the guy that works at the record store...episode 9 (2nd last episode of the Final Season)

Experiences were scarce but it was nonetheless entertaining, and emotionally excruciating, for the record guy when such instances were encountered. This one makes Twilight Zone look like Disneyland...



Imagine a quiet room.



A room too quiet that you can hear a pin drop.



But it is not exactly silent.



You can hear faint voices singing in the background.



You can hear instruments playing its slow and morose scores.



The tempo and rhythm-bleak and morbid.



A sudden burst of sound came from the outside and you sigh in relief knowing that your hearing has not been impaired yet.



Everyone else in the room walks elegantly.



They don't talk. They never talk.



The only sound coming from them is the creaking of the wooden floor created from their footwear.



They communicate through cold ways: speaking with their eyes.



Your greetings echoes back through rigid and fierce nods from them.



Your smiles fade when you look at their blank faces.



After such an emotional void devours your beating heart, they are gone.



But their aura lingers around - keeping you company in that room.



Keeping you in that room.



You cannot escape because someone has to be the host.



Because there are guests.



Because you have been selected as the host.



Someone else was suppose to be there instead of you.



Until it was confessed that you were the one that was suppose to rescue that someone else.



Now nobody wants to take your place.



Nobody wants to rescue you.



Most of all, nobody wants to be in that room.



And it's going to take all day.



Time is not your ally at this moment.



You feel your ears and skin slowly decay.



Your brain electrocutes itself.



Headache.



Then migraine.



Followed by nausea.



Finally phobia.



But you could only imagine.



The record guy was actually there.



In that room.



Alone.



All alone.



Till his time ends.



At the Classical and Jazz Room.