Für Elise

It was December. The big warm celestial ball of fire was high up in the noon spitting his hot, fiery saliva at the small blue planet like an incandescent and irked teacher who was admonishing his disobedient and detested student. It was scorching, and when a simple man like me has to use that word instead of 'very hot', it is more than tacit that the floor is truly lava. I and my sister were playing chess on the porch.

Oh no no no! I screamed in my head silently. I had played the wrong move! I prayed with all my might that my sister might not see that move, but the smirk on her lips told me otherwise. "I am dead", I thought. She was just about to move the horse and fork my king and queen when mother called us inside.

"So, 'King of Chess', that was quite a win!" My sister smirked and said.

I just groaned. She was going to tease me all day now! What rotten luck!

We lived in our old ancestral house in Australia. It was a Victorian-style house that resembled a vintage palace. It had heavy iron gates and century-old lacquered wooden tiles which had managed to keep their majestic shine till that date. It even had a humungous library with many dusty old books along with a few new additions. My sister loved to sit there all day, reading a book while drinking her tea and she loved to pretend to be a princess. She might have been a princess in some previous birth, it seemed so, because the air she carried with her definitely belonged to one.

We both went inside to answer mother's call. It was time for lunch. 

Besides Kedegree, Lancashire Hot Pot, Yorkshire Pudding as the main course, we had Raspberry Summer Pudding and Vanilla Blancmange as desserts. 

After having lunch, I went to take my afternoon siesta, while my sister made her way to the library to read another classic romance novel she had found there the other day while drinking her afternoon tea. 

Sleep, my dear readers, is rare, in summers, on scorching days when you are sweating all over, it is almost unattainable, and when it is attained, the feeling that it gives is far more superior than of that which is attained on the consumption of divine ambrosia.

My eyelids had just started getting heavy with the burden of sleep when my sister came to wake me up. I protested at first but eventually gave in, as there was something about the way she was rhapsodically shaking me, as this childlike and amateur side of her was a very rare sight. She excitedly dragged me to the hall, while I was still sluggish and half-asleep. 

"What do you want to show me?" I asked her, yawning and rubbing my eyes. She ceased to reply but simply pointed in front of her.

In front of me, I saw a majestic white grand piano. I didn't know why, but the very sight of it sent a chill down my spine. There was something about this piano. Something which only I seemed to notice. Something uncanny, something queer, something paranormal, and something evil. 

My dear readers, to you it might seem that I was fantasizing due to being drowsy, at first, I considered this possibility too, but that was not the case, for if it were then these events which I will describe to you in this story, would never have happened. 

The sudden summer breeze that was whizzing past me seemed to whisper something in my ear. It seemed to be telling me that we were not alone. That someone was watching over us. Someone who knew us, but someone with whom we were not acquainted. 

I felt an ice-cold hand grasp me from behind. It gave me horripilation. I turned around only to find no one standing behind me. I heard a distant evil cackle resounding in my ear. 

There was something seriously wrong with this piano. But like I said, everyone else was oblivious to this. It was as if there was nothing wrong with this instrument. 

A pinch from my sister provoked me out of my thoughts. "Ouch, that hurt!" I said to her, but she just laughed it off with gaiety. Her behavior was becoming more and more suspicious. Although she was oblivious to it, it was certain that her bizarre behavior was in some way influenced by the piano.

"Can I play the piano mother?" My sister asked my mother.

"Yes sweetheart, you sure can!" was the reply that was given by my mother. 

My sister was four years elder than me and had learnt to play the piano. Father had engaged a piano tutor to teach us both to play the piano, but I never enjoyed the classes so I chose to discontinue, but my sister had kept up her learning and was proficient in playing the piano. Two years ago, our old piano broke down so her lessons had to abruptly be stopped.

Her hands glided effortlessly and elegantly over the keys as she started playing "Sate - Gymnopédie No. 1 ". But there was something uncanny and demonic in her eyes. They were- red?? "No no I must be dreaming! Morticia has blue eyes, how can they turn red?" I thought to myself but it was clearly evident that her eyes were red and not blue. She looked up at me and I noticed that there was a weird devilish smile plastered on her lips.

I glanced at mother and father. They were absorbed in her performance and did not notice anything. Her golden locks swayed with the breeze as she continued her performance.

By the time I was done processing my thoughts and abnormal observations, her performance had ended. Mother and father clapped. My sister gave a curt bow and thanked all of us. She then threw a side glance towards me and gave me that demonic smile. 

I went into my room and tried to shake the terror off me. "You are just imagining too much, it'll be okay," I said to myself, giving myself false hope and completely unsure of my own words. 

Just then my sister entered. She noticed my white face and asked me what had happened. I replied that I had forgotten to drink water, and she smiled that smile once again and offered to go and fetch water. I, now pallid with terror, shoved her out of the room and bolted the door. 

When I came out of the room, it was time for supper. She again gazed at me with her red, unwavering and steady eyes. They were not my sister's eyes. They were the eyes of the cold, evil creature which was lurking inside her. 

After supper, I went to my mother's room and bolted the door. I told her everything about the piano and Morticia's strange behavior and told her that there was something wrong with Morticia and the piano. My mother dismissed this as a prank me and Morticia were playing on her and decided to play along. Frustrated of not being understood, I started off to my room in a fury.

I went inside and bolted the door. The moon had risen and the soft light that had left it was dimly lighting up my room. I grabbed my blanket and fell flat on my bed.

But sleep ceased to invade my eyes. I shut my eyes and lay awake for a long time. I eventually gave up trying to sleep and went to the library. Although I was not very fond of reading, there are certain pieces of prose, my readers, which regardless of whether you like reading or not, create that desire to read. 

I had just picked a book whose title had interested me when the familiar tune of Für Elise was caught by my ears. I shivered. Was it Morticia? I was more certain than not that it was Morticia. I gathered some courage and made my way into the hall. It was dark. I spotted a womanly figure. She had long nails and was bent on the piano beside the window. The soft light of the moon was all that enabled me to have a look at her.

The woman looked up and all at once I saw Morticia. But this time, her eyeballs were white, her throat was cut and her long white neck had blood dripping down.