The sound reached a fevered pitch and the shroud of the great hall quivered. Oppressive chandeliers swayed. Resident rodents halted their scampering.
“Stop!! Stop!!”, Maestro screamed. “This disaster cannot go on!! Do you impostors, I will not call you musicians! Do you impostors know anything about the tools you hold in your hands?!”
Silence like the grave.
“Have you ever played an instrument before this moment?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! The ears of the universe are offended! Flowers are wilting! The air is saturated with disgust! The dead roll in their crypts!”
Heavy moist darkness filled each soul.
Maestro Inor Breschein is well known for his hatred of anything deemed less than himself, which is everything and everyone. The greatest unknown is how music penned by anyone other than Breschein could ever be considered worthy of his time. Oddly enough, he is not a composer.
“Get out of my sight!! Leave me now!! Don’t take the music!! You are not worthy of it!! Get out!!” he howled until the veins of his face longed to burst.
Inor Breschein stood on the podium with his eyes pinched until the concert hall was completely empty. The door closed for the last time with a loud snap!! The maestro slowly opened his eyes, waiting for them to respond to the light.
He was startled by a dark figure in the wing.
“What are you doing? Get out! I told you to get out!” Breschein screamed.
The shadow did not move.
Maestro stepped from the podium toward it and immediately he was fully alone. He walked behind the curtain and found nothing. Withstanding the uneasy feeling dancing near his mind, he retrieved his coat and walked for the door.
Sensing someone walking behind him, Breschein turned quickly, but saw nothing. He heard laughter coming from the stage.
“Who’s there?!!” he shouted. “Who is there?!!”
Finally reaching the door he found it chained and locked. He shook the chain. “Who did this?!!” he shouted in frustration, trying to fend off fingers of fear reaching for his heart. Breschein ran to another set of doors and found them locked tight.
From inside the auditorium he heard a loud crack and blackness swallowed him. “Turn the lights back on!! I’m still in the building!!” he screamed.
Shaking the door chains frantically, he pleaded for help.
Through the glass he saw someone walking along the street. He picked up a folding chair and threw it at the window. Neither the glass nor the passerby reacted to the deafening crash.
Hysterical laughter behind him!
The concert master arrives first at rehearsal. She found the concert hall open, the lights off but for a single spotlight focused brightly on the stage.
Maestro Inor Breschein lay supine on the podium, baton in hand, eyes frozen wide in terror.
A single sheet of music lay across his chest with scribbled words, Murder and Fugue in G Flat Minor.