06-09-2009, 03:43 PM
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Graceful, amateur fingers began to play the aged instrument; playing a slow, sad song that rang out through the otherwise silent building. He had learned the violin from a dying man just before his life expired, and though he only knew bits and pieces of one song thus far, he continued to play. When the notes he knew ended, the song again repeated with a skill of one far more talented than the young boy. In his free time he played a lot, having taken the old man's instrument as in death he would no longer need it. But Jael wished to play, and so he did. He doubted the man would mind. He began again, planning on searching for a book of songs to learn something knew. At least he'd learned how to read music before his time ran out.
He had taken the old man's life himself. Arthritis and blindness had begun to take it's toll until the old man could no longer rise. Jael had torn out his throat to ease his suffering. The shock of his actions had struck him like a blow once he'd seen the man grow still and limp, blood streaming from his neck. And yet, it had been so easy. He was meant to kill. He was a wolf and thus a predator. It was like killing a rabbit or a deer. And yet. He found no joy in killing the man--only sorrow. And so in silence, he played him a song, though the man was long gone and this place far from his resting place.
He had taken the old man's life himself. Arthritis and blindness had begun to take it's toll until the old man could no longer rise. Jael had torn out his throat to ease his suffering. The shock of his actions had struck him like a blow once he'd seen the man grow still and limp, blood streaming from his neck. And yet, it had been so easy. He was meant to kill. He was a wolf and thus a predator. It was like killing a rabbit or a deer. And yet. He found no joy in killing the man--only sorrow. And so in silence, he played him a song, though the man was long gone and this place far from his resting place.