Jazz for Two: The Silent Beat

Episode 6: The Heart of the Song

Episode 6: "The Heart of the Song"

The air in the old music hall was thick with tension, a palpable heaviness that weighed down on Do Yoon's chest. The distant sound of the guitar — still playing on its own — echoed in the hall like the last warning of something about to go terribly wrong. The ghosts had begun to stir, their whispers rising in a chaotic crescendo that filled the room with an eerie sense of foreboding.

Do Yoon turned toward Ju Ha, his heart racing as he tried to make sense of everything. The urgency in Ju Ha's voice, the terror in his eyes — it was all too much. How had everything gotten this far? How had they ended up trapped in a place like this, tangled in the threads of a curse neither of them could escape?

But before he could voice another question, Ju Ha reached out, grabbing his arm with an urgency that made Do Yoon's heart race even faster.

"We can't stay here," Ju Ha repeated, his voice trembling. "It's too late. We need to go. We need to get out of this building — now."

Do Yoon glanced toward the exit, but the door — the one they had come through earlier — was now closed, as if the building itself had sealed them inside. The air grew colder, and the shadows that seemed to lurk in every corner of the room began to move again, their forms stretching like fingers reaching out toward them.

"Hyung, it's not that simple, is it?" Do Yoon said, his voice shaking. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to run, to escape, but something inside him — something deep in his gut — told him that leaving wouldn't fix anything. "There's something I need to see. Something in this building. It's... it's calling to me."

Ju Ha's eyes widened in horror. "No. You can't — not down there." He shook his head, pulling Do Yoon closer. "There's nothing for you in the basement. Only more death, more regret. It's not worth it."

But Do Yoon could feel it now, pulsing at the back of his mind — a pull, a magnetism that seemed to lead him toward the heart of the building, to the deepest, most forbidden part of the hall.

"I need to understand, hyung," Do Yoon whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I need to know why this place is the way it is. Why it's all tied to your music. And... and I need to know the truth."

Without waiting for a response, Do Yoon moved toward the staircase at the back of the hall, the one that led deeper into the building. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to stretch farther, as though they were reaching out, trying to pull him back. He could almost hear them whispering his name, urging him to turn around, to leave while he still had the chance.

But he couldn't. He had to keep going.

Ju Ha hesitated, his gaze flickering between Do Yoon and the dark stairwell ahead. For a moment, he seemed torn, as if he were fighting against an unseen force. Finally, with a deep breath, he gave in.

"You're not going alone."

Ju Ha's voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of resignation. He knew the danger. He knew what they were about to face. But there was no stopping it now. The building had already begun to draw them in.

Together, they stepped toward the staircase, and the moment they did, the music stopped. Silence filled the hall, as if the building itself was holding its breath.

The air grew heavier with each step they took down the narrow, winding staircase. The walls of the stairwell were cold, the steps creaking under their feet, as though the building itself was awake, alive, and watching them. The whispers were gone now, replaced by an unsettling stillness. But beneath that stillness, Do Yoon could feel it — the heartbeat of the building, pulsing through the floorboards, through the walls, through the very air.

It wasn't just the ghosts that were alive here. It was the building itself — ancient, hungry, and full of regret.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found themselves in a long, narrow hallway. The walls were lined with old, peeling posters, faded remnants of past performances. The floor was covered in dust, the silence thick and suffocating. At the far end of the hallway, a single door stood ajar, the faintest light spilling from within.

"This is it, isn't it?" Do Yoon asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. "This is where it all started."

Ju Ha didn't answer. His face was pale, his eyes wide, but there was a strange sense of acceptance in his gaze. He nodded toward the door.

"This is where the last performance took place," Ju Ha said quietly. "Where it all went wrong."

They stepped into the room, and immediately, the temperature dropped. The walls seemed to close in on them, and the shadows grew darker, deeper. The door slammed shut behind them with a loud bang, and the room plunged into near-complete darkness.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing — shallow, quick, filled with anxiety. But then, a faint light flickered to life in the corner of the room.

Do Yoon's eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he saw it.

A grand piano, ancient and covered in dust. But there was something about it — something that made his skin prickle. The keys were moving, of their own accord, as though an invisible hand was playing the piano.

And then, he saw the figure.

A man stood near the piano, his back turned toward them. His clothes were tattered, his face pale and gaunt, like someone who had not seen sunlight in years. His fingers moved over the piano keys in an intricate, eerie pattern, creating a melody that sent chills down Do Yoon's spine.

"Who... who is that?" Do Yoon whispered, his voice trembling.

Ju Ha's face went white. "That's him," he said, his voice barely audible. "The one who started it all. The first victim."

Before Do Yoon could respond, the figure at the piano turned around, his face now visible. His eyes were wide and empty, staring blankly at them, as though seeing them but not really seeing them.

And then, he spoke — his voice raspy, barely more than a whisper.

"It's too late. You can't stop it. The song will play forever."

The ground beneath them trembled, and the walls seemed to shift. The figure at the piano began to play faster, the melody growing more frantic, more desperate. The air grew thick with the weight of the song, pressing in on them from all sides.

Do Yoon looked at Ju Ha, his heart racing.

"What is he talking about? What does he mean by 'the song'?"

But Ju Ha's expression was filled with guilt, with a deep sorrow that seemed to reach all the way into his soul.

"The song..." Ju Ha whispered, his voice breaking. "It's not just music. It's a curse. And I... I'm the one who started it."