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The Curious Tale of Two-Note and the Bloodthirsty Violin


Drakolus

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(First off, I'm kinda new at writing stories so I'm hoping for feedback.  If it's terrible, don't hesitate to say so.  That being said, I hope you enjoy this first bit.  If it goes well, I'll see about hashing out the second portion.  I've already got a good bit written but it's kinda messy at the moment.)

 

The early evening was calm.  The fading light squeezed through the small, still trees at odd angles.  Only the normal nocturnal sounds whispered around them.  Leaves gave their sussurus in the occasional gentle breeze.  Slowly waking insects chirrupped and clicked as their nature dictated.  The two moons were snuggled close as they made their way through the night sky.  The tall grasses swayed and the distant trees provided an even darker wall, penning in the farm.  A young lady, barely more than a girl sat on a felled log and carefully pulled a violin up to her shoulder and rested her chin on the worn pad.  Nearby a hulking shadow waited eagerly.  It's form was bestial with wings and claws, a devlish nightmare in deep purple flesh.  It seemed to tense and hold it's breath, it's attention fixed on the young violinist.


Mika drew the bow slowly across the strings of her violin eliciting a sound that was both peaceful and yet cutting.  Her face was locked into a mix of concentration and weary joy as she slowly began to weave in more notes and tones, the bow flickering in precise strokes.  Her milky, blind eyes remained open and staring blankly into space as the music developed.  Notes almost to deep for the small violin competed with tinkling, almost metalic counter points for this piece.  The overall effect was a sort of exhausted sadness, a longing unfit for words, but wholly suited to music.  She could hear the occasional chuff or grunt from Two-Note slowly calm and eventually transition into regular breathing, almost on the verge of sleep.  She smiled sweetly and blew a stray strand of her blonde hair away from her nose as she continued playing.

Two-Note was not a Nephilim normally given to reverie but Mika's playing was particularly melancholy today and he sighed contentedly as he closed his eyes and let the memories flood his senses.

Almost three years ago, the day had been bright and the field where the humans were gathered was lush and green. The man, Mika's father, was reaching into a basket and lifting out small wrapped packages while the Woman, Mika's mother, was watching Mika.  The young girl, had opened a case and was smiling as she tenderly lifted the instrument, a Violin it was called, to her shoulder and delicately held up a piece of wood with string attached to it.

 
Two-Note had known and understood almost none of this as he watched the family from the treeline.  All he had known at that moment is the humans were alone, apparently unarmed and would make a fine meal.  Two-Note was anxious and could barely keep himself from darting out of cover and attacking these foolish humans.  He was in a growth spurt and he was desperately hungry.  He was hunkering down, preparing to launch himself forward when the strangest thing happened.  The little one, began to draw the stick, the bow, across the strings of her Violin and a sound unlike anything Two-Note had ever heard came out.  Even from a distance it was mesmerizing and wondrous.  The little girl's face was locked into a visage of concentration and joy while her parents both stopped to watch and listen.


Two-Note didn't even notice the tension bleeding away from his muscles, the pain of his growing bones fading and the hunger and anger flitting away.  All he knew, all he focused on was the sounds, the music that Mika played.  It was joy, it was passion, it was tender and raw.  For a creature such as Two-Note, life was usually simple.  He did not worry about most things other than feeding and sleep, but this...this was something else.  He needed this more than anything he had ever known before.


Mika's playing slowed and quietly finished as Two-Note began to return to the present.  His memories filled him with conflicting emotions.  Peace and confusion, passion and worry.  It had been almost three years since he last sought out the company of other Nephilim.  He had felt their calls dimming, the pull of the crusade to exterminate the invaders had faded.  He still fed on occasion but he was exceedingly careful to do it far from the farm where Mika and her family lived.  He took only enough to maintain his form, now fully grown, but normally willed into a shape more useful for staying concealed and careful.


A long, slow breath escaped him as Mika began packing up her Violin.  Mika's mother called out from the farm house that dinner was ready and Two-Note knew it was time to begin his nocturnal routine.  He had taken it upon himself to patrol this area, to keep it safe and clear from any who would harm this precious gift.  He knew, deep down, that this was wrong for a Nephilim.  These invaders should be his enemy and yet he...well he could not say he cared, but he had a fierce need for the music.  He had killed others for attempting to upset his carefully cultivated position and he would likely do so again and again if it meant he got to listen to Mika's playing.


His form shivered and began to concentrate down.  He was shrinking himself back into a less noticeable appearance, more able to pass for a human.  He was no changeling and he could never go among them in the blazing light of day but he could approximate.  He willed himself to appear as Mika's father.  Broad of shoulder with a deep chest.  Long, muscled arms with large work-worn hands.  A tall, head capped with deep brown hair in a widow's peak.  Two-Note could not do the mustache though, facial hair was a mystery to him.  The man's temperament further confused him.  For a human he was powerfully built and obviously commanded respect from the workers and adoration from his family and yet he never had to maintain order, to fight for dominance.  Two-Note shrugged, a human expression he had picked up, and realized there were things about these humans he would never understand.


Two-Note wrapped the coat, a duster the humans called it, around his form.  He did not need the warmth but it helped to conceal what parts of his form he could not easily change.  He placed the broad-brimmed hat on his head, better to shade his face and cover his small, deep-purple horns.  While Mika may be blind, none of the other humans at the farm were and they would surely raise the alarm if they saw him for what he was.


With one last glance towards Mika as she carefully made her way towards the farmhouse, he set off into the darkening light.  A few sniffs and he was already on the scent of something that did not belong.  It seems there were a few young ones, terror tots the humans called them, in the area.  Doubtless hungry and thinking they had found an easy meal but they had made a dreadful mistake.  They should have easily been able to sense Two-Note and to realize this was his territory, his hunting ground.  Flesh was flesh and Two-Note would feast well tonight.


Two-Note awoke three hours before dusk.  He was groggy from feasting too well.  He had come upon the tots after they had just taken down a transient on the outskirts of Fortune Falls.  He gave no warning and let forth no cry, killing in silence.  It was a matter of moments before the four tots were down.  Together with the transient they made for a large meal and Two-Note had slept deeply, sure that this had been the only threat in the area.


Around the town of Fortune Falls there was always smoke in the air.  The small factories belched out their machine smoke, cook fires tempted him and all manner of other fires, great and small burned.  But this smoke was coming from outside of town, it was coming from the farm.  Two-Note raced towards his oasis, towards his pseudo-home.  Worry and anger competed to give speed to his headlong rush.

 

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