The theater smelled of old wood and dust, but it was more than that. Something lingered in the air, a metallic tang, faint and sharp, like the memory of a storm long gone. Eli's fingers still tingled from the first full phrase he had played on the piano. He had expected relief, or at least nothing, but instead, his chest had tightened with a strange sense of expectancy.
The girl remained near the stage edge, her gaze fixed on him. Her name still hadn't been spoken. Eli had not asked, though he wanted to, there was a cautious rhythm to their silence that neither dared break.
"You need to leave," she said suddenly, her voice low, carrying a weight that made the words seem like an order.
Eli froze. "Leave?" His voice sounded absurdly loud in the vast space. "After what? After I've already" He gestured at the piano. "After I've already started?"
"Yes." She stepped closer, and for the first time, her calmness faltered. "Before the second note, you must understand. The song isn't just music. It feeds on attention, on intention. Every time you play, it reaches further."
Eli swallowed. His pulse quickened. "Reaches… further? How?"
"The first note…" She hesitated. "It touches the small, the immediate. The second, it touches the wider world. The city. People you know. Places you walk. Actions you've yet to make. By the time the third note comes, the consequences will start to accumulate."
A chill skittered down Eli's spine. The streetlamp outside flickered again, faint shadows crawling across the cracked floorboards.
He looked back at the piano. It no longer appeared simply polished; faint tendrils of light shimmered along the edges of the black wood, almost imperceptibly moving with the air's vibration. Eli's hands itched to touch it, though dread weighed heavier than curiosity.
"Why me?" he asked finally. His voice was steadier than he felt. "Why now?"
The girl's eyes softened briefly. "Because it found you. Because it needs you. And because if not you, someone else will suffer. The song chooses wisely or cruelly. Sometimes both."
Eli exhaled sharply and stepped closer to the piano. Each step made the floorboards moan under his weight. His heart beat faster than he had thought possible. And yet, as he neared the keys, the notes already seemed to hum in his mind, anticipating his touch.
He pressed a single key, and the sound rolled across the room like a low wave. The faint tendrils of light along the piano's edges pulsed, synchronizing with the note, almost alive.
The girl winced slightly. "That's all you should play for now," she warned. "Even a single extra key can alter what happens."
Eli frowned. "Alter? How? Nothing has happened yet. Except the stranger outside. That could be coincidence."
She shook her head. "Coincidence doesn't write itself on sheet music. Coincidence doesn't move with intention. Listen carefully. The song…" Her voice grew faint, almost swallowed by the darkness around them. "It always responds. To curiosity. To fear. To desire."
Eli's mind raced. He had never believed in destiny, in premonitions, in curses. Yet, standing there, watching the piano glow softly with anticipation, he realized he had been wrong. Or at least, the piano had made him wrong.
The first note's consequence had already begun.
He turned to glance at the girl again. Her posture was rigid now, her expression unreadable. And yet, her eyes betrayed something he couldn't name, a fear that wasn't her own, or at least, not entirely.
"Who are you?" he asked.
Her lips parted, and for the first time, she gave a name. "Lina. My name is Lina."
Eli blinked. "Lina…" The word felt strange in his mouth, grounding him somehow, even as the tension thickened. "Why are you here? Why do you care?"
She looked away, eyes tracing the shadows along the walls. "Because I have to. And because I already lost someone to this song. I can't let it take another person without warning them."
Her words struck Eli deeper than any chord he had ever played. He swallowed hard. "Lost someone?"
"Yes." Her voice cracked slightly. "It doesn't forgive. And it doesn't forget. The song remembers what was played, and who played it, and what they wanted. And then, it exacts its own truth."
Eli's fingers itched, as if remembering something he had not yet touched. He looked back at the sheet music. The second measure was still blank. But faintly, shimmering in the dim light, new lines had begun to form. He leaned closer.
"The next choice cannot be unmade. Play if you dare."
He recoiled slightly. His pulse throbbed painfully in his temples. "It's talking now?"
Lina nodded. "It speaks only through its notes. Its words appear in the spaces you follow. And it waits for action."
Eli exhaled shakily and moved his hands back to the keys. The first measure hummed beneath his fingertips. He pressed the first chord of the second note, and a wave of sound rolled across the theater. It was beautiful, and it was terrifying. Each vibration seemed to reach outward, stretching beyond the walls, past the broken windows, toward the city beyond.
And then the theater shuddered.
Eli froze. Dust fell from the ceiling. A low, rumbling groan echoed from somewhere deep within the building. He spun around, heart pounding, but Lina's calm hand on his shoulder steadied him.
"Focus," she whispered. "The song is sensitive. It reacts to panic."
He nodded, forcing his hands to continue. The melody progressed slowly, each note heavier than the last. The shadows along the walls stretched and bent, twisting with the music. It was as if the theater itself was alive, moving with the song.
Outside, the figure under the streetlamp stirred again, this time moving closer to the building. Eli's pulse raced. The song's notes seemed to accelerate, warning him, teasing him.
"What… what is it?" he asked Lina, breath ragged.
She shook her head. "I don't know. But the first consequence is not finished. And the second… begins now."
A faint glow appeared on the floorboards near the stage. Eli looked down. A piece of sheet music, not there before, floated gently as if guided by invisible hands. The notes on it shimmered, writing themselves in real-time.
Eli reached for it, and the glowing lines reflected in his wide eyes. He realized something terrifying: he was not just playing the song. He was following it. It was guiding him.
The second note ended. He paused, chest heaving, and glanced at Lina. Her expression was unreadable but tense.
"Did we do it right?" he asked.
She nodded slowly, though her eyes remained fixed on the stage entrance. "We did. But listen carefully the next step will not wait. The song is alive, and the city already feels it. Shadows are moving, and people are noticing things they shouldn't."
Eli's throat went dry. "What do you mean?"
Lina stepped closer, voice urgent. "The second note always attracts attention. Someone, or something, is coming. You'll know when it arrives. You must be ready."
A sudden crash from the back of the theater made them both jump. A chair had fallen over, toppling from a stack of old furniture. But the timing… Eli's stomach churned. It had coincided with the music, as if the song itself had provoked it.
He swallowed. "The song, it's not just notes. It'sb alive."
"Yes," Lina said quietly. "And it has chosen you to carry it. Every note you play now ripples outward. The second note… has already sent its shadows across the city. You will feel them soon. And you will see what comes next."
Eli's hands shook slightly, yet he moved toward the piano again. The sheet music floated gently to the stand, ready for the next phrase. The second note had been played. The third awaited. And somewhere, beyond the theater's crumbling walls, the consequences of what he had done were already unfolding.
He pressed a key.
The glow from the piano pulsed.
And somewhere outside, in the city streets, something stirred.