Jazz for Two: The Silent Beat

Episode 4: The Shadow's Song

Episode 4: "The Shadow's Song"

The world around them had shattered.

One moment, they were standing in the dark hallway, the figure of the lost student frozen before them like some kind of macabre statue. The next, everything collapsed into a void. The room seemed to tilt, the air grew thick, and the last thing Do Yoon remembered before the darkness swallowed him was Ju Ha's hand on his arm — pulling him, urging him to run, to escape.

Then... nothing.

When Do Yoon came to, his head was spinning. His breath came in ragged gasps, and a sharp pain flared in his chest. He sat up with a start, blinking in confusion. The room around him was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the cracked windows, casting long, jagged shadows on the floor.

The old music hall. They were still here.

"Hyung?" Do Yoon whispered, his voice hoarse as he tried to steady himself. He was lying on the cold floor, his limbs stiff and aching. He looked around, his heart hammering in his chest. "Ju Ha?"

His voice echoed in the empty hall. There was no answer.

He scrambled to his feet, his hands shaking as he steadied himself against the nearest music stand. His mind was racing — what had happened? Where was Ju Ha? Was it all just a dream? A hallucination?

But the whispers returned.

They had been quiet for a moment, but now they were louder. More insistent. The sound seemed to fill the entire hall, like a hundred voices mingling in an impossible harmony. They weren't speaking in words, though. It was more like a song, a faint, distant melody woven together with the whispers. A haunting melody that tugged at his heart.

Do Yoon's head snapped toward the stage.

There, standing under a dim spotlight, was Ju Ha.

He was playing his guitar again.

The sound of the strings was pure, beautiful — but there was something else, something that made Do Yoon's chest tighten. The notes were dissonant, echoing around the room with a sense of deep sorrow, as if each chord carried a story, a memory that refused to die. Ju Ha's eyes were closed, his face a mask of concentration, but there was a tension to his posture — something strained, something wrong.

"Ju Ha?" Do Yoon's voice broke the silence, a tremor in his words. He took a step forward, unsure if he should approach or keep his distance. Something in his gut told him to tread carefully. "What's happening? What is this place?"

Ju Ha didn't stop playing. His fingers moved over the strings with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly, but there was no warmth to the music — only the cold, aching emptiness of something long lost. The whispers swirled around him, growing louder, louder until they seemed to drown out the sound of the guitar.

"You shouldn't be here, Do Yoon." Ju Ha's voice came softly, but it cut through the chaos like a knife. His eyes opened slowly, and when they met Do Yoon's, there was something in them that made Do Yoon's heart freeze. It wasn't fear. It was something else. "You don't understand... You shouldn't have come."

Do Yoon took another step forward, his pulse quickening. He had to know what was going on. He had to understand what was happening to Ju Ha — and to the building.

"Why are you playing?" Do Yoon asked, his voice rising with a mix of confusion and desperation. "The music... it's different. What's going on?"

Ju Ha's fingers faltered on the strings for a brief moment, and the sound came to a sharp halt. But instead of looking up at Do Yoon, Ju Ha looked down at his guitar, his gaze distant, as if lost in thought.

"I'm trying to reach them," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Trying to understand."

Do Yoon frowned, his stomach churning with unease. "Who are you trying to reach? Who are you—"

Before he could finish the question, a loud crash shook the room, interrupting him. The walls seemed to tremble as if they were about to collapse in on themselves. Do Yoon stumbled back, looking up at the ceiling in shock. The shadows in the corners of the hall began to shift, stretching like dark tendrils. And in the distance, he saw something moving — a figure, impossibly tall, too distorted to be human.

The whispers rippled through the air, louder than ever.

"Help me..."

The voice was clearer now, and it was coming from somewhere behind Ju Ha, though he seemed to not hear it. His eyes were still locked on the guitar, his fingers slowly moving back to the strings.

"Hyung, what's going on?" Do Yoon's voice cracked with fear. He took another step forward, but the floor beneath him seemed to shift, and his foot slipped. He caught himself just in time, but when he looked up, he saw that Ju Ha wasn't there anymore.

He was gone.

"Ju Ha?" Do Yoon called out, his heart pounding. "Where are you?"

And then, he heard it.

A low, hollow sound, rising from the back of the hall. It was the sound of a door creaking open — and then, a footstep. A heavy, slow step, echoing through the silent room. The shadows at the back of the hall began to shift again.

The whispers grew louder, more frantic, almost as if they were being pulled out of the very walls. "Help me... please... help me..."

Do Yoon swallowed hard, his throat tight with fear. He turned toward the back of the hall and saw a figure standing there — a woman. She was dressed in tattered clothes, her face pale and ghostly. Her eyes were hollow, unblinking. The only sound was the faint creak of her footsteps as she moved toward him, the whispers seeming to follow in her wake.

"What do you want?" Do Yoon whispered, though his voice felt weak, helpless.

The woman's mouth opened, but instead of words, a song came out. It was a song that seemed to belong to the building, to the forgotten history of the music hall. Her voice was low and mournful, filled with a sadness so deep it felt as if it had been carved into the very foundation of the place.

The melody was familiar, yet alien. It was the same melody that had been woven into the whispers, the same one Ju Ha had played on his guitar — the song of the lost, the song of the trapped souls who had never left.

Do Yoon took a hesitant step backward, his chest tightening with a fear he couldn't explain. But then the woman stopped.

"It's you."

Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but the words felt like an accusation. She was looking directly at Do Yoon now, her hollow eyes filled with something that resembled recognition.

"You... you shouldn't be here. You can't leave." Her voice trembled, as if struggling to speak through the layers of silence that had built up over the years.

"What are you talking about?" Do Yoon asked, his voice barely audible.

But before the woman could answer, the shadows shifted again, and Ju Ha's guitar began to play once more.