Short tale
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The empty chair

It was an important day for the local orchestra. Everyone had rehearsed all year for the holiday concert. They were going to play an orchestrated version of Fur Elise. The string instruments were in place, the percussions were prepared and the trumpets on standby…however the lead pianist was missing.

It was strange and unnerving. The pianist never failed to arrive early to re-read the music sheet. They were forced to rehearse without her, but the mayor was coming to the show and the main instrument of the composition was alone with an empty chair. Time was short, they had to find another pianist.


Darkness. That’s all she saw when she regains her senses. She could feel the cold floor against her cheek. She felt sick in her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. She perks her ears trying to sense any sound that might tell her any hints of where she might be. Only the whispers of wind could be heard against a window. Her hands were tied against her back, but her feet were free and she was able to stand up. She rubbed her face against the nearest wall she could find, to loosen up the cloth that covered her sight, and she was successful.

It was an empty room, unpainted, with a lonely desk in the middle, and one solitary window with a small lit candle beside it. It was incredibly dusty and a strange smell surrounded the place. A forest could be seen outside, telling her she was nowhere near anyone who could help her. Screaming for help didn’t seem like a good idea, who knew if her captor was near?

She had to get out of there, that concert was her dream, the peak of her career. Every pianist in the city wanted her place, she couldn’t let it go to waste.

Something in the desk caught her eye. It was an opened letter.

“Dear pianist. I’m afraid you have been liberated from your position. But don’t worry, I will make sure your post is not empty.”

The desk was as dusty as the rest of the room, but it was a strange dust, it had small rounded particles and a strong smell came from them, filling her nostrils with dread.

Her eyes widen up when she realized, she gazed at the candle by the window. The wax was completely melted and the flame was about to touch the dust that was also spread by it.


The new pianist arrived with perfect timing and took his seat at the grand piano. Everyone was ready now and the concert started, but while the maestro conducted the play, he could sense a strange smell. The smell of fireworks.


She didn’t have time to react when the fiery hell broke loose, and once again, darkness.

Sept. 22, 2017, 3:17 p.m. 0 Report Embed Follow story
The End

Meet the author

Elisa Viteri Empece a escribir a los 15 pero me ha gustado leer desde siempre. Mi sueño es publicar una saga de libros y con ello inmortalizar a mis personajes. Mis historias podrán tener sus fallas pero estoy segura de que la trama es capaz de llamar la atención. Quiero creer que mis historias pueden ser queridas por otros y apreciadas tanto como yo las aprecio.

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