𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍// 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟒

Will hated the silence.

It stalked him through the sterile halls, sat next to him at every meal, pursued him through crowds of bumbling campers. It was a constant, harsh companion.

The silence couldn't shut out the thoughts that plagued Will. It was a void for the memories to take up, to fill.

Ever since he had escaped, his dreams had been full of nothing but that dark cell, of Admirel Blyden, of King Abbadon. Every night, he would wake up drenched in sweat that felt too much like blood.

The thoughts and the memories left him... numb.

Empty.

He felt like a ghost, wandering these silent halls. A shadow.

One day, as he passed a room, immersed in his thoughts, he spotted something.

A piano.

Will swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

He had started playing the piano at age six. His mother would teach him, and have him practice every day. It was before the drinking, before the cigarette burns, before... everything.

Will shook off the dark thoughts and took a cautious step towards the piano, as though it was a slumbering beast he feared to awaken.

He had played. Before he had been taken, whenever he could, Will would play until his fingers were sore.

He hadn't played since. Hadn't given it a second thought. Hadn't bothered to.

Will sat on the piano bench, running his hands over the keys, thoughts empty, core hollow. He played a light, cheerful melody, the music quietly echoing off the walls.

He stopped. Stared at nothing. A cruel mockery-- that was what this song was. A cruel, viscous mockery to what he was feeling--

He pounded on the keys with an awful CLANG. He did it again, and again. He put my face in his hands, his breathing ragged.

Will reached out a trembling hand and pressed a key lower on the piano. The note split the air, throbbing with pain and anger.

That's more like it.

Those emotions, the pain and sorrow that he had tried so viligantly to hold back, grabbed him by the throat, demolishing every last wall he had built to keep it bay.

And this time, he embraced it.

He plunged into the song, hands flying on the keys.

The music crashed around him, roaring through the silence and emptiness of the infirmary, of him. It was a song that spoke of darkness, of hellfire, of a pitch-black cell and chains that tore wrists to the bone.

Will didn't know he was crying until a tear rolled down his face.

And, for the first time in a long time, the emptiness in him was full of sound.