Listening For That Sweet Tune-Chapter 17: When The Thought Arises

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Chapter 1: A Simple Beginning

Previously on Listening For That Sweet Tune:

Chapter 16: Psycho Amnesiac

    Like any other person in the world I could only wonder what the hell just happened but reason has no meaning anymore. So I found myself doing what everyone would have ran away from, I followed the tooth ripping fiend—maybe to return his tooth that he misplaced by my feet. I am still yet to explore the other side of the house but this happening here may just be enough of what I need to see.

Each and every step across the room was a step of caution and fear, I didn't know what to expect—almost anything can happen nowadays. I slid my feet across the dark room and nothing I was hearing was a comfort to my fear. As I moved my weight from one foot to the next a big creak of moving boards and loose nails echoed through the house. I wasn't quite sure if that strange man was either waiting for me or totally forgot but if this was an average man, he was waiting and waiting to make a move. All I was trying to do was to move across the rest of this room and make it to the hallway with so much more light and one broken dish but my pulsing anxiety that was pushing through my veins was making something so simple to become such a hard task.

I can assure you that I did make it to the other side of the room, in a fairly timely manner. By the time the light from the hallway reached my face and begun to light up my world I heard something rhythmic coming from the next room where I could only guess where the strange man went. It first sounded like a song, some music was playing from what I could make out but it was ancient. I headed further down the hallway—now passing the broken dish and table—and it sounded like the sound was coming from the left of the hallway.

Through every cautious step forward the music got louder but it was fairly slow, as was my steps. What I originally thought the faint sound was from instruments became more organic. What I could make out was something like Gregorian chants. Several voices in unison spoke out in a mere mumble but the words were something very few could recognize, I'm not sure if I can myself but I could say it sounded something like Latin or rooted from it.

By this time I traveled several more feet forward to see the hallway to stop heading forward but making a left and almost immediately after that was a door to another left, a dark hallway and a window to end the hallway all together. Looking back to the hallway I was still in though, before turning a left was a painting on the wall that sent chills down my spine. I could make out that it was hand painted in blood and from what I can make out charcoal.

The elements in the painting were rather natural. One coming from the natural earth and the other from the oh-so familiar natural body. This made me very intrigued on medium that was placed on this canvas before me. I can only wonder what the intention was for using such specific products I could only help but relate the similarities of blood and charcoal. One thing that is for sure is that both natural elements are used to keep something to many things alive.

As we all know, blood is used to keep practically anything with a heart to live but charcoal can be used to keep a fire alive too. Now after realizing this I found out what was written on the canvas, it read 'A raging fire is my body dying'. At that moment I heard another crash of what sounded like another glass dish being thrown to the ground. I turned around to see what was happening to see the door down the next hallway—where all the sound was coming from—was wide open, pushing out this bright amber light. I approached the door slowly looking intensely at what I could be seeing in the room but how the door was propped open I ended up being directly in front of the door to see anything in the room.

The music was something of a Gregorian chant but I couldn't find anybody in the room. The room was covered with writing on the walls, ceiling and the floor in another red substance that one can only assume to be blood. The writing was cryptic I couldn't make any sense of them but they looked more like large symbols that actual writing. On the floor looked something like a drawing of a rather large octagon with several figures inside of it and directly above it was a drawn in eye on the ceiling looking down at the octagon but it almost felt like it was looking at every thing inside the room—including me.

There was a table in one of the corners of the room, it looked like it was made of solid wood but metal at the same time--one thing is for sure, it was sturdy. Looking at the objects on the table there were several parts of the human body. There was a large forearm that looked like its been whittled down slowly, a handful of teeth—several small and large, a jar full of eyeballs but they weren't being fermented, fingers, tongues, lips and feet. I couldn't examine everything for to long because I heard another crash behind me but this time, if felt very close. I turned around to see that strange man looking at me intensely while standing in the doorway. The glass was broken right next to his feet and he knelt down to pick up a rather large fragment.

Something bad was going to happen but then again it was expected ever since I walked inside this house so I wasn't surprised. I stood my ground to see what was going to happen and the man reached up into his mouth again tearing out another tooth but this one sounded very painful. There was such a large crack it felt like my own teeth were being pulled out but when he showed me the tooth; it wasn't a full tooth but a half the other being still in his mouth. I could only cringe in pain as he spit blood out to the side of him and pocketed the tooth smiling. Then he rushed towards me.

In the big struggle between the two of us he landed the first strike. As he got closer to me he threw the piece of glass at me piercing my upper right arm—just my luck. Then he overpowered me by throwing me to the ground towards the center of the room and jumping on top of me holding my hands above my head. It felt like the fight was over too soon. He put his face right next to mine and he started sniffing me, the blood from his mouth dripped from his chin down to my face. It was disgusting so I thrashed back and forth trying to get him off of me and before I knew it I snapped.

As he was putting his attention to my hands probably fantasizing what he could do to me I looked at what I cold do. His neck was the only thing I could reach so I acted on impulse.  I pushed myself as hard as I could and I bit the mans throat and vocal chords and it wasn't a gentle bite. He started to yell in pain as continued to chew at his throat and I ripped all I could out of his body. What began as a yell turned into a choke, I took out a good portion of him and all he could do was put his hands to cover his neck to stop the bleeding but that wasn't going to help him. 

I pushed him off of me got up and stood over him as he was shaking back and forth as if he was having a seizure. This was a matter of life and death so I did what I had to do. I spit out the mans throat onto his body and I could only assume that my body was even more bloody than before but now there was a blood taste in my mouth. With it being the only thing I have eaten for days, it tasted so sweet it tasted like heaven.

Up next in Listening For That Sweet Tune:

Chapter 18: It Feels Like Ecstasy, It Tastes Like Blood

Remember me

A Poets Last Thoughts

The city dies by old age, tomorrow.

You can never die to late.

It is said that a dove can heal,

all of our savagest of wounds.

Will you inject it into my veins,

If I falter or cry?

Knives, blades and hand grenades,

kill those on the street

Take this village of sin to the light,

what did we really achieve?

Your soul has been thick from the very start.

It can break me in two.

When you look for your image,

will you be on deaths bed?

When you look for the answers now,

to late came to soon.

What if I tore off these broken threads,

could you see any good left in me?

There is no fire left inside,

I just feel anxiety.

Shattered memories tear up my head.

Just forget what I once did.

Look through the sky with a telescope,

does everything else want to be dead?

Take this village of sin to the light,

what did we really achieve?

Your soul has been thick from the very start.

It can break me in two.

When you look for your image,

will you be on deaths bed?

When you look for the answers now,

to late came to soon.

And if I wish for tomorrow to come,

will my last words be known?

If I survive my monsters release,

will I still have a home?

I sit on my death bed now,

did I do anything right?

I did things I don't want my children to see,

what will they think of me?

If I should wait for this afterlife,

could I finally be clean?

Or should I wish for the darkness to come,

then what could I be?

Take this village of sin to the light,

what did we really achieve?

Your soul has been thick from the very start.

It can break me in two.

When you look for your image,

will you be on deaths bed?

When you look for the answers now,

to late came to soon.

If I could find a way to start again,

could I do anything right?

The city dies by old age, tomorrow.

You can never die to late.
































Remember me

The Child: Entry 16

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The Beginning:

Prologue 

Previously on The Child:

Entry 15

Several nights passed and I began to have so many racing thoughts that I couldn’t find a single way to sleep. They moved me back upstairs with the rest of the members but everyone thought I was too 'dangerous' so they moved me into a small vacant room that was at the end of the hallway where all the rooms were located—the entrance being towards the end of the kitchen. Though it was small it was really quite cozy. I didn’t have to hear 'Deadeye' Jack have reoccurring Post Traumatic Stress dreams in which he kept mentioning the name, Jackson or James—not really sure if they are the same man or two people. 


     Mr. Robinson was always fiddling with something. It almost sounded like termites hollowing their way through a board of wood or even mice scurrying in the walls but the sound was always coming from his bed. The weirdest events on those nights were from someone that I have hesitated to mention. He is a man in a wheel chair, crippled but practically paralyzed from neck down and a frequent blank stare that I am not to sure about.

 


     

Nobody has ever been able to get the man to talk but from what I hear from The Mother is that he is a man of very few words. She mentioned to me once that he was here when everything started and he was a youthful young man, which I can only wonder how? The Mother looks no older than her mid twenties and she was very young when she started this place, yet that old crippled man looks like he is on deaths bed. The Mother should be way older, Suzie too! 

She looks about thirty yet she was the one who began The Family. 


   

  

The weirdest thing was Frankie Frank. The first encounter—also the only one—was a very odd experience. His skin became paler and began to age while his eye started turning and only when he mentioned the words 'Why didn't you pursue your hopes and dreams?' One can only wonder what that means but then again I have been trying to figure that out with almost everything that has crossed my path though no answers have been found. 


     The old man--in whom The Mother has told me that people call him Grandfather, something like a running joke though I think there is something more—at night sat there in his wheelchair. I woke up several times during the night to turn around in my bed to see him staring at me intently. Once I got up and walked towards him, yet his eyes were still focused on my bed and I crouched down to intercept his gaze from across the room.

He looked old, yet aging well. He had a small face a balding head and these little round spectacles, which he had on at all times—I, guess he couldn't take them off himself. Looking into his eyes I could see a form of happiness in his eyes and I could only wonder if this was the same man that I saw in those photographs—one owned by Suzie, the other by Mum. It has been a while since I looked at one of them so I never could recall but everything just seemed so 

familiar. 


     

Upon recollecting with these thoughts I heard a sound that was like a loud bump, something rather large being dropped on the ground, though it was very quiet do to its distance. I rolled out of bed and opened my door to see what all the commotion was about and at the end of the hall—which has twenty or more feet away—a man passed carrying a lantern. I didn't expect to see anyone up this late so I began to walk down the hallway hoping to make conversation to get this night to pass quicker. 


     

Before I turned the corner I heard several people talking amoungst themselves one in particular stood out from the rest. In a small raspy voice I heard, 'We found him snooping around on the grounds, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he can’t open his mouth.' Then a rustling of people moving down to Solitary. I peeked around the corner to see something and I found several of the members, some I knew some I didn't. I held my breath to relax; it nearly felt like I was going to have a panic attack. 

     When I turned around I saw someone looking into my room, I became determined to see who it was. I hustled towards my room yet keeping an element of surprise through silent footsteps. Right when there was about a few feet between me and the man in my room, he turned around. Immediately I noticed it was Ville and he immediately noticed it was me. Walking up to me, he put his hands on my shoulders and whispered very franticly. 


     

'Did you hear that noise? I’m afraid something bad is going to happen, we need to see what is happening.' I stood there and thought for a second then I asked a question out of curiosity. 


     

'By any chance, is there anyone missing in your room?' He replied quickly. 




'No, wait. Yes! What is that supposed to mean?' 


    

'I heard something so I walked down to the end of the hallway to see several people going downstairs.' Ville's face looked surprised and he began to head down the hallway then turning around to say something about us having to see what was happening, it may be the difference between sleeping the rest of the night or being slaughtered by morning. 











Next entry in The Child:

Entry 17

Remember me

It Makes Me Feel Well (Terror In Rain)

I dont care,

with all the options you left for me.

Just keep, me, numb.

Pills, cuts, crush,

I am blind with all my atrophy.

Please stop, this, train.

Don't lift this fog

that nicely seals, protects my subtle mind

Why leave, me, with more?


Keep this blank

I can run with all the cozy space.

Just don't, let go.

A secret if,

I put up on a shelf,

cause some terror in rain.

This is my home.

Do you wish to know?

Where it is just to peek and see.


You want me, to laugh out loud,

try to contemplate, my poetry.

Find the flavor of my mood,

I just think this living hell,

makes me well.

Remember me

Listening For That Sweet Tune-Chapter 16: Psycho Amnestic

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Go to the beginning:

Chapter 1: A Simple Beginning

Previously on Listening For That Sweet Tune:

Chapter 15: The Ones With Eyes

When I was able to compose myself I finally opened my eyes to see everything that was around me inside the house. Candles were on every piece of furniture leaving this amber glow through the whole house. I guess I can say now, blood is quite normal to me now. At first I was getting sick to exact sight of it or even the thought but now, it's really not that bad. This may be some disturbed point of view but what hasn't been disturbing the past several days? I guess I'm just desensitized now.  

From where I was staring—I was still against the door—was a wall no more than four feet away from me. On the entire length of this wall is a skinny table of which has several melted candles on it. To my left and right were hallways to other rooms but there was this bloody smear on the ground like a bleeding patron was dragged by a third party; the blood path led to the left. Looking into that room I could only see flickers of light from the candles and what seemed like dancing shadows. Up high in the same room I could see a lot of movement and after a while of determining what I was staring at I noticed that it was dancing-ballroom dancing. 

The couple that I saw—from what it feels like—a few hours ago, seemed to be following, then again I may have just been following them. I looked to the room to my right—which was the room conjunctioning to the lighthouse like tower—all I could make out was darkness and dark figures all around in the room. I could see a faint light coming from in the room but leading behind me, this was where the tower was, so it looks like that light hasn't gone out yet. Im not really sure what to do at this point, either I can go left to meet the maker of all this blood on the floor or I can head right, into the darkness, not knowing what is over there. I feared nothing would be worse than what was to my left so I got up and tried to get the guts to move forward.

If I am recalling this correctly—I am just in this big state of shock right now—the room that I am preparing myself to go in is the same exact room that I was standing on the other side while the hands were covering the window. I think I just took a back-step, I really shouldn't think of things like that if I am going to enter the exact same room that I am thinking creepy things about. I approached the table in front of me and grabbed one of the lit candle sticks; I moved slowly so the flame wouldn't go out and I also put my hand in front of it so no big gusts of wind will blow it out. I was now entering another domain of who knows what, I just hope its nothing with a desire to end me for good. When I entered the room I hugged the left wall—not only so I can cover my back but also to look at the window that was covered with blood. Just a few steps in and I already was reaching the beginning of the window. Moving my light closer to the window, I noticed that there was still blood on the window and it wasn't just some hallucination along with that was something else.

There was what seemed like roots or veins in the surface of the window but they were just as deep red as the rest of the window. Looking closer, they looked like actual veins that you see on your body though they were all relatively shallow, in fact, they weren't shallow at all they were straight bare. I focused my gaze to more veins and as I stood still trying to focus I saw the veins move up and down like they were in fact living things still breathing and working. I traced the veins down to see them approach the ground and flow underneath the floor boards maybe flowing directly under my feet or even leading down into the basement. I heard something glass fall to the floor to my right and upon turning around I saw something.

When you put yourself back into the threshold looking into the room—the window still on your left—to your right was the rest of the room but another hallway led down to lead behind me right around the corner when you walk straight into the room. In this hallway—leading out of the current room I was in—was where a dark figure stood. It wasn't the same one as before but it still gave me the same dread as the other dark figure. Down this hallway is also where the light is coming from and somewhere back there is where I saw the shadows of dancing. Looking at whatever was looking at me just gave me chills. Seconds at a time it felt like the figure was twitching abnormally but whenever I blinked I noticed that my mind was playing tricks on me.

I could see its face and it looked like it was in a suit, then it smiled at me. Not just an ordinary smile but a big grin showing all of his teeth—or lack thereof. He had several teeth missing and several more filed down to little stubs but I could see his smile through all the darkness. His mouth opened wider and he started to look up making the most emotional scream I have heard. It was full of anguish and anger, he was frustrated. One of his hands went inside his mouth and a gushing and cracking followed. a big snap of what sounded like a bone breaking came out of his mouth and he showed me a tooth that he just ripped out in his upper right jaw. Blood proceeded to flow out of his mouth and with the same hand that ripped out his tooth rubbed against his face to get the blood off his face. Before lowering his hand again he looked at his tooth that he just took out and shifted his gaze towards me. He spat blood towards my direction as if I did something disgusting but as he noticed that the blood didn't go very far, he threw his tooth at me.

I didn't want to move because I wanted to see if this was either a hallucination or an actual living thing in front of me--I haven't been this close to very many things so I had to know. The tooth was real, it hit my shoulder and I could feel a little poke of a sharp edge on the tooth but it was nothing to cry about and then it fell, rolling down my body till it hit the floor—it sounded real too. I looked back up at him very surprisingly because I really wasn't planning to find out that my previous and present hallucinations were more than just my imagination. He already had his back to me when I looked back up and he was casually walking away then stopped in his tracks. He looked to his left looking down to a table with glass dishes on it, then picked one up. Admiring the craftsmanship I heard him mumble something to himself and smashed the dish on one of the corners of the same table and continued on his way down the hallway whistling some upbeat tune.

Next up in Listening For That Sweet Tune:

Chapter 17: When The Thought Arises

Remember me

How To Mend The Wounds

Its when you're always trying but you only bleed in return.

Bleeding out feelings, emotion and the hopes of my heart.

I am pierced so much right now.

So now its time to turn back the hands of time.

To the time when it became a mistake.

Its the time in life where the point is fate.


Im going to mend my wounds,

forget they were even there.

Im ready to shoot love in the head,

with a cold .44.

I will shoot love in the head,

then stab all that remains.

No one can make it through this forsworn fate.

It will be a massacre,

even to the things I forgot.

I want to kill these things,

that people claim to be good.

They give you a headache.

They only ruin the start.

They take your life.

They hide in the dirt.

They think that I'm crazy now.

Hell, you might too.

But its you thats become dead.

But its you that lives in dirt.

Soon you will realize,

this was never meant to be.

This was never to be a praised device.

This was never to settle in the hearts of men.

Im going to mend my wounds,

forget they were even there.

Im ready to shoot love in the head,

with a cold .44.

Remember me