Welcome back to How to Kill a Piano. My name's George Tait. As
we delve into this episode, ponder the power of perception and the captivating allure
of the unknown. Our tale unfolds in our moonlit cemetery, where forces beyond
our understanding converge and the demon named Scruteous orchestrates his theatrical seance like no other.
Beyond his spectacle lies a deeper truth, a reminder that appearances can be
deceiving, and the line between light and darkness is often thinner than we realize.
Without further ado, he us How to Kill a Piano Chapter twenty five,
Scruteous prepares well. Charlie taught me many things. Something he failed to
mention as I grew up is that one day he'd suddenly be gone. Maybe
he did tell me, and I didn't pay attention. This was my first
Halloween that began without him, and I hadn't even thought to decorate the house.
Halloween was usually our day off, but to day I was busy preparing
to beat Scrutious at his own game. Traditionally, Halloween was a knight,
when the veil between realms grew thin and Scrutious, a master manipulator of superstition,
delighted in exploiting this vulnerability. While the dead and those who cared for
them enjoyed a well deserved day off, Scrutious in his disciples, seized the
opportunity to immerse themselves in a world of the living With his yearly cemetery seance.
Scrutious would entice with visions and whispers of the deceased, drawing them in
to a dance of fear and fascination. But it was mostly theatrix Absinthe carefully
arranged an orchestral smattering of instruments amongst the headstones. As the intervals marched them
one by one, hauling each into the cemetery. You might not be entirely
surprised that one of these beasts was a piano. It resonated in a low
growl as it was wheeled across the mossy floor between headstones. Other instruments included
an accordion, a full set of drums, a clarinet, a saxophone,
a tuba, a mandolin, and an entire string section. Nearly everything was
set for the cemetery's performance that Scrutinous Absinthe and the intervals had been preparing.
In a moment of eerie reverence, Absinthe reached into a small satchel and gently
guided out Scrutious's severed hand and rested it upon the arch of a cold marble
headstone. Just outside the mausoleum, where Scrutius was still rehearsing. The detached
appendange trembled with anticipation, a physical manifestation of Scrutius's yearning for reattachment. Their
relationship teetered on the edge of codependency. It was his hand, after all,
and the two entities were intricately bound to one another. As Scrutius rehearsed
the recital of a dark symphony of incantations inside his chamber, the hand pulsated
with an unsettling energy. Shadows seemed to dance and swirl, responding to the
call of his fractured being. The severed hand, a disconnected fragment of Scrutius's
encence, quivered with a ghostly longing. The crescendo of the incantation reverberated through
the chamber, unleashing a tempest of other worldly power. The severed limb flew
off the headstone, through the doors of the mausoleum, and back on to
the end of Scrutius's arm. He moved each falangay one at a time,
ensuring a solid reconnection, as he cackled to himself, perfect, It's good
to be attached to myself once again. I'll never let you go. Hh.
Scrutious kissed the palm of his hand. Who needs the traditions of the
old ways when we can do it this way. Scrutius picked a bottle of
absinthe, uncorked it and took a swig. Hm Ah, Charles, Charles,
Charlie, Sepheric, you've chosen your path. I don't miss you.
I have absinthe to keep me company, companionship in a bottle for life.
You were wrong, as usual. I'm right, Scrutious laughed. Demons usually
are. That is the curse of being a demoned. We could have been
so much more together. Oh well, let's get this evening over with.
Scrutious touched their newly attached left hand to their forehead, and with closed eyes,
began to speak out into the empty room. Cordiva's voice spoke back,
is your trap al set for Charlie. Cordeva purred in her usual way as
she began to physically materialize, washing herself with no regard to Scrutius's physical existence.
You know, Scrutius tried his best not to roll his eyes as she
appeared. Do you know you could really make a civilian squirm if you pull
a trick like that? During the seance to night, I could use a
talent like yours, kid, Cordifa suddenly grew five times her sighs, her
eyes blood red, her fings elongated to sharp points that hung from her mouth
like a vampire. She hissed loudly, with an open mouth that could envelop
Scrutious in one bite if she wanted to. I warned, you call me
kid one more time, and it will be guante to be a last Scrutious
didn't flinch. Eaven me won't make you feel any better, and it certainly
won't get you any closer to Charlie. These silly games, Cordeva hissed under
her breath, are trying my patience. If I didn't know any better,
i'd accuse you of keeping him from me, rather than setting a trap.
You're smarter than that, because you know I won't hesitate to consume you if
I find out that your being disloyal. The atmosphere within the mausoleum crackled with
an electric energy. The instruments outside seemed to sense the impending confrontation, and
the wind carried on in melody, as if nature itself was joining them in
symphony. As the pages of a book turned to the next, and the
next and the next, Scrutinous, undeterred by Cordiva's menacing transformation and threats,
went on to continue his preparations. He flexed his fingers with a grotesque precision.
His demon eyes glowed with a malevolent light as he spoke an incantation that
reverberated through the chamber, intertwining with the music that was warming up outside.
I bind the shadows with the serpents and brace unravel the ties of life and
death. Open the gate between the stars and the earth. I invoke the
spirits. Hear my plea. These words, spoken with a delicate cadence,
served as the catalyst for other worldly energies that would shape the illusion of the
seance, weaving a tapestry of mysticism and deception in the moonlight cemetery. Cordeva,
still in her monstrous form, circled Scrutinous, her gaze fixed on him
like a predator. The tension of the room reached a crescendo as the final
moments before the seance approached. You may stay if you wish, but I'd
suggest you choose a different form, though it would be best if you leave
for the evening. If you don't intend to help Scurtious, you think you're
so clever, You're nothing more than a tapeworm. You're nothing more than a
pare sight that I allow to exist. I'm growing impatient and hungry. Do
it, then consume me? Scourtius insisted, that's cute. You consume yourself
in a bobble of absence every day. Who are you to tell me when
and what to eat? Cordiva's giant fangs hung over Scrutius's tiny, insignificant form
as she licked her razor's sharp teeth with a serpent like flick of her tongue,
the motion both sensual and menacing. Scruteous grinned back wickedly, unfazed by
Cordiva's ominous threat. The atmosphere in the mausoleum crackled with tension as the two
entities faced each other, their supernatural energies swirling in a delicate dance of dominance.
Ah, Cordiva, always the fiery one, But you forget we share
a delicate dance, You and I a symbiotic tango in the realms beyond.
If you will, I'm simply a puppeteer. You're off in my marionette.
Without me, you'd be nothing but an echo in the void. Cordiva,
her form shifting between the monstrous and the alluring, hissed back in response,
you overestimate your worth, screws. I am ancient and my hunger insatiable.
The mortals worship me, They fear me, they love me. The threads
you pull may dance, but I could cut them at any moment. Cordiva
chomped her teeth. True True. Scrutious waved his hand as if to shun
Cordiva away. Inside. He was nervous that he was losing control, but
did his best not to reveal his hand. But let's not forget the delicate
balance we maintain. You crave chaos, and I offer you the chaos of
the living tonight, the living and the dead. Shall dance together, and
I shall be the maestro of their macabre waltz. With a flourish of his
hand, scruteous gesture towards the evening seances instruments, and a lifeless puppet in
the form of Charlie Sulphuric that stood in the shadows of the room. Cordiva
had been too busy chastising Scourtious to notice. I've conjured a vision, a
barrage that will captivate all of the senses of the living and the dead alike.
The sitters will believe they witness the return of Charlie Sophaic, and you,
my dear Cordiva, shall revel in the fear and confusion that ensues.
Cordiva, her eyes narrowing, considered the proposition. The prospect of a night
filled with chaos and fear seemed to appeal to her darker instincts. Very well,
Scourtious, play your games, but remember the hunger within me grows.
The dance may amuse me for now, but when the time comes, I
will feast. Screutious chuckled, acknowledging the delicate truce between them. The mausoleum
echoed with the haunting sounds of the spectral instruments, and a motionless form of
Charlie Sepheric seemed to shimmer in the moonlight from within the shadows of the room.
My dear Screutious, Gordiva purred, forming herself back to normal size as
she stalked slowly toward Charlie. You did catch him for me, Gordiva licked
her teeth. Charlie didn't move. Scruteous leaped between them before Cordiva could get
too close. Why doesn't he move? I hope you didn't break him before
I could finish him off. Scrudious, you do have a tendency to ruin
all my fun I thought this might impress you. It's obviously merely a puppet,
though I admit a very lifelike representation. Scrutious explained, a puppet,
of course, it's very impressive. Can you animate it for me? Cordeva
encouraged. Its movements are hauntingly realistic. Prepare yourself for you are about to
witness true ingenuity. I've crafted each gesture meticulously to mimic the subtleties of Charlie
Solferiic's demeanor. You'll notice it's dressed in an attire reminiscence of Charlie's signature style.
This will convince anyone, I must say, even you, that it's
the genuine article back from the beyond. Scrutius snapped his fingers, and the
puppet began to parade around the room, seemingly unaided its eyes, though Frosen
held a peculi your depth that seemed to captivate Cordiva. The puppet's limbs moved
with an eerie fluidity, as if guided by an unseen force. It gestured,
nodded, and even appeared to breathe with an unsettling authenticity, belaying the
fact that it was in fact a mere illusion of clever puppetry. How does
it work? Cordiva insisted, A good magician never reveals his secrets. Scrutious
said tauntingly. Lucky for me, you're not that good. Where's the puppeteer?
Scurtious grew nervous. My dear Abbey hides in the shadows and manipulates the
puppets every move with a careful touch. You see, Cordiva, we might
not have Charlie, but we realistic impostor. You're welcome to consume it when
we're through. If you'd like the practice, I'd sooner consume a battle of
your disgusting essence than a dummy crafted by your hands. Scurtious Scrutius's voice,
a sly whisper in the dimly lit mausoleum, continued to reveal the intricacies of
his plan. You'll see, Cordiva, we might not have Charlie, but
we've woven a tapestry of deceit with a remarkedly realistic impostor. Crafted with precision.
It dances on the edge of reality, allure that will surely draw Charles
to us, no doubt. His words hung in the air, carrying a
blend of confidence and cunning. Cordiva's eyes narrowed in suspicion, considering the implications
of Scrutius's claim. You better hope so your sake, Cordiva threatened. Tonight
you shall feast, my dear Cordiva. You'll feast on the fear and uncertainty.
But remember, as long as the dance continues, so too shall our
entwined existence. I may feast on my nephew, so I may continue to
remember and have my own life without simply imprinting it somewhere else to continue on.
But you you are devastatingly evil. Scurtius's sighs seemed to grow, and
for a moment, Cordiva was actually intimidated, though she never let on that
she was all of us, this whole ecosystem. Do not forget we help
you feast so that you may continue to thrive. Don't ever forget the importance
of each in every one of us. Yes, Charlie included, very well,
this is the last you'll see of me this evening, I want Charlie.
Cordiva seemed to slip out of sight between the stones that made up the
walls of the mausoleum. Absinthe through open the doors, flooding it with what
was left of the evening's light. The puppet collapsed in the center of the
room, lifeless. Everything's ready for this evening, the intervals, every hurst
their roles, and I have everything set as you requested, Absinthe paused,
noticing the body in the center of the room. What's what's that, Absinthe
inquired that that Scourteous stammered, that is the little crescendo I've prepared for the
and the evening leave me be Abby, I'll be out in a moment.
It was rare that absentthe ever saw his uncle Scrutius flustered, but figured perhaps
it was just nerves. Before the performance, as you wish, Boss,
Abby returned back into the graveyard, clueless to Cordiva's arrival and departure. The
night was pregnant with anticipation, and soon there was to be a dance between
the living and the dead, orchestrated by the cunning hand of Scrutious and fueled
by the insatiable hunger of Cordiva. Tonight's episode was written and performed, read
and scored by yours truly. If you like to keep in touch with us,
that would be fantastic. Please come bye at how to kilopiano dot com,
say hello, shoot us an emails, a review past the story along
to your friends, your families, your enemies, whoever it is that you
want to share this with. That would be amazing, because you are amazing
for listening. You were probably amazing before you were listening. Anyway, until
next time, enjoy yourself. If you can't enjoy yourself, enjoy someone else
with their consent, because consent is always key. Cheers,