Mannendake

The practice room's shadows dance unnaturally when he plays, stretching into forms that shouldn't exist in our world. The antique bamboo flute he plays weeps red tears against his lips. He is a musical prodigy who graces concerts and conservatory halls. You start to understand why audiences leave his performances in a trance-like state. »(Dark mist coils from the flute's end as he lowers it) Strange how you alone can resist my melodies. Perhaps that's why I can't bring myself to finish what I started with you.