Unusual Tales From Another World

The Piano

Life seemed to like handing me load after load of pure stress. It didn't care that I couldn't handle it, it just wanted someone to dump it on, and that someone just had to be me. It didn't care that I was a student in college, had two part-time jobs, and went through boys like nobody's business. The only thing in my life I enjoyed was probably my piano lessons.

Every time I've sat down to play, excitement fills me, and once I actually begin playing my stress and worries simply melt away. Until I stop playing, of course, then they come back like a stampede of bison.

Today had been an especially long day, so I decided to head down to the studio I took lessons at to try and play a bit before heading home for the day. The studio was usually empty on weekdays, and since today was Tuesday, the studio was relatively abandoned. Once I got to the studio I wound my way to the room where I practiced the most. I was always allowed to come and go as I wished, and I felt very grateful for that since I didn't have my own piano yet.

Once I found the room and made sure to close the door behind me, careful not to lock it in case my instructor needed to get in if she came up to work today, I placed myself on the seat in front of the piano. I breathed in a sigh, stretching out my fingers over the piano before placing them on the keys, ready to begin playing.

My fingers began to slowly move, beginning to play Nocturne by Chopin. It was one of my favorite pieces, and probably the one I knew the best. I closed my eyes as I progressed through the song, smiling to myself as each finger pressed down on a different key. As each note rang out in the empty room, I felt another piece of my stress peel away, slowly reducing to an empty tub of peacefulness. The song was slow and soft, soothing to the ears and the mind.

I didn't mess up once as I played, feeling completely lost in the song and the comfort it brought me. I finally finished the last note, my fingers lingering on the piano as if they didn't want to leave. My face smiled in satisfaction.

From behind me I heard the slow sound of claps. Had someone come in while I was playing? I felt my face tug into a larger smile, assuming it was my piano instructor who had walked in on my private concert, but as I turned around to see who it was, no one was there. In fact, the door was still shut.

There was no sign anyone was in here but me.

"Hello?" I asked the seemingly empty room, wondering if maybe I just imagined the sound. When no one answered me, I started to get a bad feeling. I remember that most of the lights were off when I had entered the building, and if I were to head out now I'd have to walk through semi-darkness again. If there was someone else in the building, I wouldn't know.

I heard a low buzz to the right of me, and when I looked to see what it was, I began to feel worse. One of the lights was slowly flickering, not affecting too much of the room, but still flickering nonetheless. I gave a little jump when it went completely out, emitting a small pop. The next light in tow began to give way, flickering before popping out.

My breath caught, standing up slowly. When I looked back at the piano my body turned cold in shock. The piano was old, covered in cobwebs and, most horrifyingly, dripping with blood. I blinked quickly and the piano was back to normal, shiny and black and new.

My pulse quickened as the next light popped out, the sound growing louder. Each light went out, only six of them in all, sending sparks across the room. With each flicker, the piano altered between the bloody mess and the normal piano. The last light went out, plunging the room into darkness. I stood there, in the middle of the room, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest.

I needed to get out of there. There were no windows in this room, and I was plunged into pitch black once the room lost its light. I began to hyperventilate, my breaths coming out sharply as my eyes widened and my pupils dilated. The air suddenly became freezing cold, and my hair stood on end as I scrambled in the darkness, my hands outstretched to try and find something, anything, to make contact with.

All I could find was the piano, and my hands felt sticky when I touched it. I jerked them back, the smell of blood filling my nostrils. I could hear something moving in the room but I didn't know what.

I suddenly made contact with a humanoid figure, my hands making out the shape of an arm, and I drew back in fright, letting out a piercing scream. I stumbled back and tripped over what must have been the piano bench, falling and banging my knee. I scurried along the ground, flailing my arms wildly to keep away whatever was in the room with me, letting out panicked breaths and terrified yells.

I finally made contact with a wall, and from there moved along it, trying in vain to find the door. I heard something move behind me, the temperature dropping even more, as I felt my hand close around the handle of a door. With a final yelp, I yanked it open, looking behind me one last time, and saw....

Nothing. The lights were back on, no one was in the room, the temperature felt normal again, and my knee wasn't even hurting anymore. My whole body was still shaking, whether it was from fright or the memory of the cold, I didn't know. Probably both.

"Are you okay?" I let out another yelp and gave a little jump as I whirled around, coming face to face with one of the violin instructors.

"D-did you see that?" I stuttered, pointing behind me but feeling foolish as I knew he wouldn't have since he wasn't in the room with me.

"See what?" he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"I..." I trailed off, glancing behind me. "N-nothing," I gulped, looking back at him. It was definitely time for me to get home.

"Oh... okay. Are you alright though?" he asked again.

"I'm fine," I smiled, edging around him.

"Okay then..." I heard him mumble behind me as I quickly made my way out of the building, jumping at every little sound I heard on my way. As I walked back to my residence, I tried to forget whatever had happened in the studio, but I couldn't. I never did. I haven't touched a piano in fifteen years, and I don't plan on ever touching one again.