No where near any sort of civilization there could be heard a sad melody. Where was it coming from, they may ask, when it was heard by naive, innocent ears. The answer was held in a lean-to, mould rotted shed. Nobody would ever dare enter the decaying wood structure, but yet, that is where our story begins.
A lone piano stood crookedly in the center of the space, mice scuttling around your feet as you enter. But since this story is held on a sheet of paper in your hands you will never quite be able to enter the run-down building.
The ivory and ebony instrument was being played by young girl about the age of nine. Her only companion, besides the mice, was a death black raven, that stood on a rotted board, cocking its head differently at her each time her bony fingers rested and lifted upon the keys.
The girl wore a dark grey, ripped dress that contrasted against her deathly pale body. No shoes covered her bare, rough feet. Her eyes never blinked so the brilliant green irises were always desert dry. If there had ever been white in the eyes, there was no more, for that space was occupied by blood. Blank stares stared at non-existent sheets of music as her fingers hit the keys gently, creating the melody that could turn your blood to ice.
The bright sun was setting in the west, facing the back of the girl. Darkness followed its dazzling streaks across the sky, but the young pianist stayed right where she was, where she had been for so long, just waiting.
The raven looked towards the window, through which the sun could be seen. It cawed loudly, causing the music to stop suddenly, with a clatter of different notes. The zombie girl's neck turned slowly and determinedly toward the bird, almost able to create a nail on chalk bored screech. Its feathers ruffled under the blood and green eyes, almost as if they made it uncomfortable. Which, they would to almost anybody.
"Is it time, Jynx?" Her voice was sweet, but rough, as though it hadn't been used for a very long time.
The raven cawed, slightly this time, trying to avoid the girls eyes, look at anything at all, but them.
"Well then, my dear, we must prepare," callously it left her pale, rotten lips.
You would have been scared from your socks that day if you had been able to see the expression glued into the red and green eyes. The raven, Jynx, jumped into the air to be suspended by its black wings, only to fly out of the window, which the sun had disappeared from.
The music resumed, almost as if it had never been interrupted and nothing had been exchanged between the girl and the bird. But Dearest Reader, you know much better than that, because you have experienced it second hand, on a sheet of paper.
