Sitting in a chair

[xshapelessx.livejournal.com]

The man shape sat in the chair away from everyone else below him. He had purchased the ticket with money taken from corrupted humans but the weak minded and fearful people who he had been seated near to had paid for him to be removed. They could feel the barely contained primal force contained within him and they had no wish to be close to it should it be unleashed. So here he sat, shielded from the main body of the hall by velvet curtains of a red the same shade as fresh blood. Still those below him would glace uneasily in his direction, into the shadows that concealed. They would fancy that they could see two points gleaming there, the light being caught and reflected like in the eyes of a beast. Who had ever heard of such foolishness, a beast in a concert hall? They should laugh if it was not for the fear inside them.
The young killer sat back in the chair, closed his eyes and let his senses explore the room. There were so many voices he could pick through. There was an old couple speaking of times long past. Two women lovers talking of problems with men and their superiority to them. A girl and boy barely more than children speaking of their most secret plans for that night when they would become man and woman. All the while though his nose told him that the foe was here. Wyrm in this place and around it and everywhere it could reach. He listened and thought and pondered what some of their conversations would lead them to.
Then there was a rise in the sounds as many were hushed into silence. He opened his eyes just as the last light fell into nothing. The humans were blinded by the darkness, but the man shape could smell as well as they could see. A female form moved on to the stage, stepping carefully and with grace till she reached her instrument, where she sat and took a moment to ready herself. Then she put her hands to the keys and life returned to the darkness.
The first few notes were clear but quiet and restrained. Slow and careful the notes were sent into the silence of the room, bringing life and beauty where before there was only the black void of the hall. The man shape again closed his eyes and allowed himself to be touched and carried by the music…
He was unaware of time. He was undefended. Nothing was there except for the music and she who made it. The notes her fingers wove flowed over his spirit and brought quiet to his soul. He felt the rage seep out of him leaving the gnosis glowing like embers under her breath.
Then there was silence and it was over and it was time to go back to the world.