While Maestro Bianchi went off to find another lead violinist, the rest of us started setting up the traps. It's been almost ninety five years in the making but we now know that if he's weakened we have the slimmest chance to escape and if he dies we'll all be free.
He found all of us one way or another, no matter how hard we hid or how much we distanced ourselves from music. He knows who will play well for him and once he has you, that's all there is to it. You play for him until he says you can stop.
Our fingers are so crusted over brown with dried blood that we're starting to lose them altogether and when that happens, well, we won't be useful any more. He'll use our guts for bowstrings, use our bones to play the xylophone or glockenspiel.
Some of us have been with Maestro Bianchi for over three hundred years, constantly playing and bleeding and chiseling the scabs away to buy another day's worth of life. I don't even know why we try so hard now. None of us have been free in over ninety years and a few knife-loaded traps won't change that.
He found all of us one way or another, no matter how hard we hid or how much we distanced ourselves from music. He knows who will play well for him and once he has you, that's all there is to it. You play for him until he says you can stop.
Our fingers are so crusted over brown with dried blood that we're starting to lose them altogether and when that happens, well, we won't be useful any more. He'll use our guts for bowstrings, use our bones to play the xylophone or glockenspiel.
Some of us have been with Maestro Bianchi for over three hundred years, constantly playing and bleeding and chiseling the scabs away to buy another day's worth of life. I don't even know why we try so hard now. None of us have been free in over ninety years and a few knife-loaded traps won't change that.
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