FREE HER

I once was playing piano in the forest.
Well, practicing at least.
I was really, really good.
I think.

Then, suddenly, after hours of playing.
I noticed something new.
Sorry, someone!
It was a girl.

She was pretty.
Very pretty.
And cute too.
She stood still, listening to my delicate tones.

I gasped.
How long had she been there?
Did she like it?
I guess if she didn't, she'd leave.

I tried to speak, but couldn't
It was as if I'd forgotten how.
No, not how, why.
I forgot why I was playing.

She started talking to me.
She spoke with a soft, melodic voice.
And complimented me on my skill.
I responded nervously.

I thanked her and asked if I should continue.
She said yes, so I did.
But as I played, I realized something.
Something off.

Her hands were held behind her back.
Like she was hiding something.
I felt a chill down my spine.
When I noticed something red dripping down her leg.

She noticed my gaze and stepped back.
Hiding whatever it was a little better this time.
I swallowed and tried to forget.
But I couldn't.

There was something else.
A voice.
Not hers.
Not mine.

But I could hear it all the same.
It called to me.
It cried.
And wailed.

Then another came.
And it too cried.
It cried out to me.
Begging and pleading for me to do something.

But what?
I kept playing, the girl still watching.
More and more voices lingering around me.
All screaming, all crying.

It soon became too much.
A cacophony of screams.
A banquet of tears.
All around me.

Then, without warning.
It stopped.
All but one voice fell silent.
The voice of a man.

It spoke in a deep and raspy tone, like an old man.
It spoke slowly, and with depth.
It spoke with purpose.
It said.

FREE US KILL HER.
FREE US KILL HER.
FREE US KILL HER.
FREE US KILL HER.

Until the rest joined in.
And that was when I realized.
The girl was gone.
And in her place, was a light.

Like a will-o-whisp.
Or a giant lightning bug.
It floated there, nearly motionless.
Slowly, more appeared.

Lighting the sky, I was surrounded by them
The souls of the dead.
The souls of the voices.
The souls of the murdered.

And she was the culprit.