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The wolf let out a howl and the deep dissonant sound of a sad violin played in the distance while our moans filled the silence.
Epilogue Two
MIDORI
“What is this?”
“A request,” he murmured.
I arose from the bed, the black silk sheets flowing around me.
“You know I cannot play anything but that song.”
“I am sick of that song!” He yelled.
I stared back at his handsome face, distorted in sorrow. Serge Bastien was Cirque Diabolique’s master of none. He served as a footman for the witch that had given me my curse. And it had been all because of him.
The more I tried to get away from him, the more he lured me in. I hated being so damn weak. Always at his mercy. Always falling for the wrong men.
“Please, Serge. She will get mad at me.”
“I want her to squirm,” he raised a fist, tightening it before me.
“And I agree, but not like this. Do you know what will happen if I stop playing?”
His head hung low, and he swayed slightly. He had been drinking tonight. He drank most every night, and when he did, he’d seek me out. Crawling into my bed in search of a love that left a long time ago. Now all I felt for him was pity. And in that pity, I opened myself up to be tortured and used by him.
He was always rough and dominant. And I always allowed him to take out all his hatred onto me. A willing submissive to his conniving games. How I hated him so.
The witch had seen me in the crowd years ago when the Ringmaster was the one on the stage. He’d chosen me to have a scene with, and it had been overwhelming and passionate. He became my obsession, and I trailed after him like a lost puppy. Begging him for more.
He’d warned me that if this were to happen, bad things would come of it. But I didn’t listen and I wanted more.
It wasn’t until that dreadful night that I realized what he had meant by those bad things. The witch had come to me, asking me to leave, but I didn’t listen. Instead, I wanted to make her jealous of me. I wanted her far away from my Ringmaster. I was possessive, and self-destructive. I was also enchanted by my new master. He made me feel wanted and loved. I had never felt such yearning before this, yet in it, I lost myself.
I had been an award-winning violinist. I had a career, money, fame, and I lost it all for him. A man who only knew how to use me, and still did.
I didn’t understand why I let him. How I had succumbed to this darkness, to this hold this place had on me.
I had enraged the witch to the point where she had cursed me. Night after night you’d find me sitting on a lonely stage, a violin in my hand, and the notes to Memento Mori flooding the night. It was meant to drive my lover crazy, and sure enough, he stayed away for a long time.She also made sure I was hidden away where no one could see me, where I had no audience, no notoriety, and I would be alone.
The notes that poured out of my stings, were chords attached to my soul.
How sad they were.
How lonely.
“I will not stop, Serge.”
“Then I will need to remove you from here.”
“You can try, but I doubt she’ll let you. Because I’m your punishment, Serge. Me. And this is all your doing.”
I put on my robe and gave one last look before I left. “Don’t blame others for your mistakes. You’ve already ruined my existence along with yours. Don’t you think that’s enough.”
His light eyes turned dark and sinister as they landed on mine. He was an expert at keeping his feelings hidden, but tonight was different. Something was coming. It stirred in the air. The last thing I imagined, was that it was coming for me.
