Can't you hear the music?
The screeching, painful screeching, ripping at your ears and daggering your soul, so painfully?
As they march forward, staggering here and there, leaping about in their sick, broken dance.
And they sing. In a strange, incomprehensible tongue they sing. Foreign to all except each other. And perhaps not even they know what they say.
So what do they sing of?
Such things are better left unknown.
So they prance, door to door, street to street. World to world. In search of new people to sing to.
To carol for.
They find you. They find you…and then sing for you.
But you hear nothing. Not a thing. They twitch and sway and fidget and swing but say not a thing.
And then they leap.
They leap, and rip the screams out of your throat. You press forth a sound – a broken, heartbreaking sound as you are destroyed right then and there. You are sent spiraling into a world that you never knew existed, where only horror and grief can thrive. A fiery, brutal torture that can only be described as Hell. You writhe. You fight. You cry and you struggle, but it's all in vain.
And even if you tell yourself to be strong, you can't help but shout.
Shout in anger, in fear, in pain, in despair.
Shout. Scream. Sing.
You're singing.
You're singing to them. And they love it. And then they move on and leave you to fade. They leave them all to fade.
For you see…
The Heartless don't sing for you.
You sing for the Heartless.
Carol of the Hells.
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While looking through my doodle box for a drabble idea (yes, I keep poems and stuff in there too), I can across an idea about Heartless and caroling, and I thought it'd be nice to use. :)
Just 8 more days…