The words echoed in the silence as the dull blue skies slowly died towards orange and then red and the busiest avenues fell to a hold. Besides the accursed chant, the only thing to be heard was the slightest whisper of wind and trash crawling the sidewalks. Not a soul could be seen but she knew that now they were watching her waiting to be fed upon by the 'demons that roamed the grey deserted streets' of San Antigua.
As she cursed loudly enough to make shutters close and blinds drawn, Amarilla Del Oro became worried and almost to tears thinking that her life might end any minute now. For the first time in 5 years, Amarilla was caught without a 'GIPHT', or 'government-issue-periodic-heart-tracker'. And for the first time in 5 years, she hadn't felt safe. The thoughts of death flooded through her head as the sun slowly sank into a sudden stop; and then she heard it. She remembered the sudden trembling feeling and the irritant annoyance from 5 years before and it had stuck with her through out. The wind that blew so gently came to a halt and the silent streets perished to a dark dooming buzz and that, itself, was like a death sentence already.
Amarilla's stomach dropped as she started with a stumble and then quickly evolved to a run from the noise; first in a straight path and then down every alley and walkway that had an opening, but it just kept coming closer and closer, creeping. She never turned around just in case she might see them, which would kill her in shock so she ran until she heard something even more familiar- and far more odd than the buzz of an impending doom. It was soft and memorable and drew her in like a bull to a matador; the exact opposite of the buzz from before. The sound turned into a note, and then to a song. It didn't matter which alley or walkway she took, it all seemed to just make the song appear louder. And as she edged towards it, the words started to form and the buzzing disappeared into a warm but eerie melody. Amarilla couldn't understand what was making her draw near but with each step she took, the next one became easier. Soon she found herself mouthing the words as if she had known it all along. And she had.
"... Bright copper kettles and whiskers on kittens." The melodic voice was just around the corner and Amarilla's feet stopped her, but her mind kept going. In a trance like state she stood there for what seemed like hours, too afraid to turn the corner, but too human not to.
"Brown paper packages, tied up with string..." The voice became noticeably masculine on the lower notes and held the last word, as if waiting to be finished
"... These are a few of my favorite..." The lyrics fell out of Amarilla's mouth as instantly and loudly as it did clearly and in tune.
"...things?" the masculine voice that used to sing, became questioning and echoed in the alley that Amarilla blindly walked through. She had no idea where she was anymore and any thoughts of a death had disappeared and the only thing left in her brain was the same thing that got her into this mess. Words.
"Who's there? Don't worry, I don't bite!" A mocking tone to the voice had been applied. "Well, at least, I won't bite... or I can't right at this moment. It's a little hard in this predicament..." and the mockery switched to a rambling speech. Amarilla fearfully looked around the corner and what she saw blew her mind. It was 'The Suite', a man chained and punished for his misdeeds. And he was just that; chained. She turned the corner but stayed her distance of 15 feet. At the other end, The Suite was bolted down tightly, in a crucifix-like position, on a wall that spanned high, which was covered in dried blood and crushed bones on the ground. The dead-end-alley was just as wide as it was long and had enough room to wonder where in San Antigua, the city of growth, would there be enough space to hide this fugitive. And he was just that; a fugitive.
"I know you! You're that bloke who did all those terrible things! You better leave me be or I'll..."
"What? Chain me and feed me to 'The Demons?'" The Suite, as he was known, joked. He was a pasty grayish brown color with a clean bald head and a big muscular physique. His chin had a gash along the middle, which accentuated his strong jawline and sideburns and added to his handsome, but fearful demeanor. "Besides cupcake; your GIPHT is broken, I can tell. Else you wouldn't be running like a crazy woman. Unless you're just that..." a coy smile broke in his face.
"You shut up! I've had more dangerous men chained up before. 'cept this time I don't have to pay to beat you!" She half joked, though most of it was true. But before her heart could settle down, the buzzing came back. The fear shot her in the throat, which dried quickly and her eyes widened and delated.
"s**t s**t s**t! We gotta go, before they come!" She panicked, but still keeping her distance. The Suite just whistled and looked at his arms spanning beside him, locked into the wall.
"I don't want to die this way! I don't want to-" Amarilla screamed and cried, breaking down wear she stood, only to be interrupted again.
"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens..." The Suite's singing had become louder and buxom and the buzzing followed the same pattern.
"I didn't quite get your name!" He laughed
"What?" The buzzing started louder and louder. The shock of his statement held her crying out of confusion.
"YOUR NAME!" He yelled back at her. His smile slowly became a bit bigger and strangely attractive.
"What kind of-"
"QUICKLY!" He yelled across again, the sky coming to a quick ink-black color, seeping into the sky with same liquid qualities as the color.
"AMARILLA DEL ORO"
And it stopped. The buzzing, the fear, the fast-pace heartbeat, and most of all- the singing.
"The... the demons... THE DEMONS! They're gone! The noise is... GONE!" Amarilla started at a whisper and then rose to a roar.
"Amarilla. I'm going to ask you what you know of me in a bit, but for now, I'm going to tell you everything you'll need to know about me..." He paused. Amarilla could almost hear the sweat fall down her face.
"...I AM the demons".
- Title: The fugue and the favorite
- Artist: steam punk rhapsody
- Description: (prologue)1989, 5 years after the metropolis of San Antigua became the quarantined prison, after an outbreak of hideous murders caused by unknown assailants, and it's citizens live in fear. "The Demons" as they are known, appear only at dusk and roam the streets killing all in it's path. But the doors that were once locked to keep "The Demons" in are soon unleashed. Who will save us?
- Date: 11/23/2008
- Tags: fugue fugitive