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Previously on Listening For That Sweet Tune:
I felt clean. Like every wrong thing I have ever done was washed from my back then lit on fire. Everything looked different now from what I could tell wood panels, wood floor, bamboo curtains, there was light in here now and plenty of it. The sun was up and brighter than any day before at once in my life I finally feel at least a little hope for tomorrow. Everything is normal—at least to my standards.
Looking down to see myself I not only felt clean but I looked clean too. Any traces of blood or dirt that was present on me before has now vanished from off my body and mind. Looking at my past crippling wounds, they were nearly healed to make me perfect again. No dirt or blood lied under or around my fingernails—I truly felt perfect. When I woke up from my black peace I found myself lying in some make shift bed consisting entirely of fleece blankets. I got up to look around the room at another perspective and I still felt a sharp pain in my leg—though it is more bearable than before.
In front of me were the French doors that opened to one of the hallways and the previous one I was in before I blacked out. The wall to my right was filled with wood paneling and two windows equidistant from each other and to the corners of the wall. The wall to my left though, was entirely naked with nothing to decorate its loneliness. Turning a one eighty moving the wall that was on my right now to my left was a view to the crashing waves below me. Sets of windows filled the entire wall other than the last five or so feet leading to the right wall. Here laid a closet with no doors, clothes or even shelves, just an empty, useless area inside this house—most likely to be the majority of the house too. I walked towards the windows to see a balcony is out on the other side of the window to hang over the rocks below it like a man’s last standing place.
Whatever I was looking at whether it be the ocean or something else, it was beautiful. This treacherous fog was pushed back towards the horizon; I was amazed from what I saw. This was the first time I was able to see what was around me since I reached this beach and the view was so stunning I thought I was literally in a peace of all that was good. In the distance I saw islands with enormous mountains full of trees and a solid beauty and the surrounding beach had no fail to it. I then remembered that I wanted to see what was on the other side of this house; I entered back inside.
When entering the hallway, everything that was there previously that was at least mildly disturbing had vanished. I first walked into the room that I blacked out in to see something similar to a black room where photographers developed their film due to no light inside and sinks littering the walls within the room. I looked to the left wall to see that the phonograph was still in the room but it was on the table now, clean and in perfect condition. I left the room and continued to head down the hallway to look into the room that previously a man was killed by my mouth.
There was nothing strange or out of the ordinary. Everything was where it once was minus all the blood, body parts and objects formed into a ritualistic manner. I walked inside still smell a dampness if blood in the air, I wasn't just seeing things, I could feel it. Crouching down to look at the floorboards I could see stains of blood being nearly wiped away but the wood on the floor soaked in the moisture like it was water and blood is what it needed to survive. There was nothing more for me here so I continued onward.
Walking back into the hallway I headed towards the painting that was in the hallway previously. Everything that was on it before was now something totally different. The painting that was there looked familiar, I knew I've seen it before but it took me a while to figure it out. The name of the painting was 'A Bar At The Foiles-Bergere'. In it is a woman bartender in the middle and liquor bottles around her as she is serving a customer. One thing about it is that behind her lays a mirror that enables you to see the things that she sees. The interesting part about it is that what is in front of her to the reflection in the mirror, there are many irregularities. The part that I paid close attention to though, is in the reflection you can see the man’s face of whom she is serving. Normally you can see it but in this version I was looking at had the man’s face scratched out aggressively with black ink.
I wasn't really sure what to make out of this but one could only assume the worst. I turned away from the painting to continue to head to the other side of the house and I finally heard a noise. I first thought it was a creak in the floorboards or the house settling but it then sounded to be more of a mumbling of voices. It sounded like a few people at first but then I realized that it was coming from the same mouth, just in two different tones. I walked into the next room seeing that the glass that was smashed in the hallway was still here. Walking into the adjacent room I looked towards the window that had the hands looking at me to see someone sitting on the floor in front of it, holding a knife with several decapitated hands surrounding him. This was a new sight to come to me but this peculiar fellow seemed to know of the strange events and though looked very strung out, it seemed like he had a grip on reality.
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