Of Dreams and Demons

I hear the phantom sounds of a piano, it's melody somber, further deepening the mood of the dimly lit hall. Numerous candles cast a bronze glow against the pillars and nearby but fails to penetrate futher into the darkness of the vast room.

The music stops, and from the abyss I hear course voices mumbling demands to play. I look down to find I'm dressed in a black suit and white collared shirt. Buttoned to my cuffs are unfamiliar symbols, and my shoes look highly expensive: gold buckles against black leather.

After the quick inspection of my attire, I look to my left and find a piano that wasn't there before. The disembodied voices urg me to, "Sit and play. Yes, play." I take my seat and rest my hands on the ivory keys. On reflex my fingers play the same somber song that lilted through the expanse before. As I play I can see dim shadows shifting at the edge of the light. Several pairs of bright eyes peer at me, and as I continue to play, more seem to join and watch. I make out the irregular shapes of my audience. The sillouettes of horns stand out the most, but I just continue to play. They urge me to.