Music insinuates itself as the leaves mix into the inarticulate smog. They tend to sneer on them with a flurry. And the band begins to play. A minor and then F sharp. He breathes in some poison as she walks down on the hall. “I will be the god!!!”, he yells. Her footsteps become more and more inconsistent. She smashes up all the dry leaves as she realizes the note on the ground with a bloody signature. She can’t hear him. He yells again “I will get more than silence when I become the god”. She runs, feeling a kind of remorse, while reading the note in her hand. She realizes a question in deeper red on the note: “Would you..?”. She stops for a while thinking and then starts to run again. The frontdoor is covered with some pyre. The band plays the scale in an inevitable pressure.The cymbals crash and suddenly stop as the brushes sweep in such a kind of desperate swing pattern. She doesn’t know what to do. The blood is spattering down from the roof as the time passes. He dropped the poison for her when it was too late.The band was about to end the song but he doesn’t seem to stop rambling...