She sits upright before us, like a tree trunk still and dynamic, and her frail fingers are placed alert on the ivory. Her old lungs fill and release once as the room slowly revolves around. We are dark icy planets to her sun. Then patiently, softly, from somewhere deep down in the black wood there forms a melody. It’s caramel. It burrows down into our bodies and paralyzes us; it’s like warm, sedative water poured slowly down our necks – it trickles down our spine, earthly and heavenly, easing red knotted muscles, spreading its nirvana everywhere. The room melts a little, the clocks slow a little. And she sits resolute. Her eyes are closed and her fingers dance like spiders over the small black and white keys of the piano. Does she know her power? Does she hear her Sirens’ sound? Or is it only her fingers who could understand?… is it such that the entirety of her grace is reserved solely for the gods and clouds above?
She has us so fully in her grasp – so deep in this euphoria that we dare not move when, after the sweet song fades into nonexistence, she opens her eyes. She scans the room, counts our heads with her bony finger, and smiles. Then she returns to the keys. With yet another all-encompassing breath, she sets her fingers free on the instrument.
The tune begins like spring; tiny pale flowers open wide and silver streams flow crisp and cool. A dazzling mountain breeze sweeps over our shoulders and we are free, oh so free, flying through the night… But, despite our earnest effort to ignore it, something is wrong. Something has been corrupted. A missed note?
No, there lurks something monstrous here – something ugly and black and hidden like a tumor. She peers out at her audience, that witchy smile burning bright upon her face. We feel the music ooze through our veins. It’s overpowering. We feel it enter our chest, slip into the heart. We feel it thicken. It stings. It hurts. Every organ fights the corruption. But it’s too late. It’s too late… Our blood becomes ice.
As our minds dissolve away, we hear the song’s unending glory; we feel the twist of its dagger in our backs. We see the witch’s cold hands stretching out to ravage our souls – and we taste the red smoke of hell… Away into the darkness the sweet music takes us.
Credit To – Nate C.
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What happened? Did they die by piano music? Because saying it like that makes it sound silly.
Now I have “Red Like Roses Part 1” stuck in my head bc that’s the only piano song I could think of while I read this
Umm…I don’t know how to comment on this. It’s like a passage in a book, or a page torn from a notebook. No one knows what events led to it or what will succeed it. It’s good, but not the best.
But nice writing style
This can be made into an actual song ;-; Am I the only one who, like, sang it in my head? o.o” I SHALL WORK TO MAKE THIS, A SONG. Lol, probably not, but really, it could be a song.
Amazing! I absolutely loved it! Do you play the piano? It reminds me of how music can be an extremely visual thing. XD
This is not a creepypasta. It is a dramatic thing with an old lady with spider man powers and puts caramel in bodies and poofs elements through her wood and starting to murder you with music and then they go to hell cuz a sword is magically plunged through your back and the music dissolves your brain.
Creepy pasta is for horror, not so much flowery pizzaz .
I get you’re trying to mesh your words with the beauty of the piano, but if you wanted to so convey a mood, you’d make the ending more abrupt, get it?
Overly verbose descriptions, plus a ton of bad, mixed metaphor. For instance:
“It’s caramel. It burrows down into our bodies and paralyzes us; it’s like warm, sedative water poured slowly down our necks…”
“Burrow” isn’t what water or caramel does.
I thought this pasta was VERY well written.. the description was awesome. Original concept.
Wat.
*shrugs*
Beautiful! Poetic! I could easily be trapped in the concert to hell if the music was beautiful enough. I loved the descriptions and read it 4 times..encore!
I dont know why but I really understood this. Its about a witch who uses music from the piano to trap her victums and take their souls and send them to hell. I love how the story at first seems harmless and then she takes their soul. Like every story out there it need polishing. 8/10
The author knows how to write, there’s no denying that. However, this is too vague and that effects the impact and creepiness. It only leaves us confused. In fact, I would go as far as saying that it is slightly pretentious.
My rule is that just because something seems intricate and poetic, doesn’t mean it’s good. Don’t be fooled by big words and pseudo-poetry.
5/10
Slightly pretentious and lacks substance. Focus on writing a good story, not trying to impress us with lengthy sentences and obscure images.
Yup.
Actually, I just now noticed that this had been accepted to the site. I thought it had been rejected because of the very obvious pretentiousness…
5/10 is generous. Thanks for the friendly criticism.
Definitely something a bit different. I really like this descriptive style, and I think the comparisons were wonderful in their seeming contrast. Music compared to physical things and events is a method I like to read. I enjoyed the twist as well, though I think it is evident from pretty early on. The willing resignation to the events is probably the most unsettling part to me, and I felt that was worked into this beautifully. I suspect there may be a second meaning to this that I am not fully picking up on as of yet, but it definitely left me with things to mull over. I enjoyed the descriptiveness of it and found it very engaging to read. Thanks, and happy writing!
so wait, whats it about? I think its something having to do with dying while listening to piano
other than that I got nothing