tagNonHumanThe Violinist

The Violinist


Willem was perched atop a crumbling tombstone as he played. The cold air tousled his baby blue hair as his fingers dance over taut strings. The abandoned cemetery was haunted by his dark, delicate violin. Its voice reached out into the dark and drifted across the deserted yard.

This was a secret place, a forgotten place, hidden away from the noisy city and harsh street lights. Sweet decay and autumn leaves mingled with dry roses for the finest bouquet. This old Victorian cemetery made him yearn for an era that he could never know in place of this modern one. Willem composed his private pieces here far away from the people who scorned his dour playing.

Tonight was a special night, though. Tonight Willem played the sweetest, saddest piece he ever composed. When the last somber note died away, he slid down from where he sat.

Willem knelt next to a mossy, worn tombstone and leaned his bow and violin against it. In the flicker of the novena candle he'd lit earlier, it read "Alyse Dalton, June 2, 1881-Oct. 26, 1901" on the old slate. From his picnic basket, he took a bottle of wine, two glasses and a bundle of black roses.

Leaves rattled in the skeletal trees and the air was suddenly suffused with the scent of earl grey tea and plums. Willem felt something cold against his cheek. He looked up to see an ethereal woman and her pale lips brushed his cheek.

"Alyse..." Willem sighed.

"You play so beautifully," Alyse said "but I don't know that piece."

"I wrote it for you, my beautiful muse." he smiled. "It's called "The Moon's Last Dance." "

Willem caressed her cheek. She was thin as moonlight; he could see his hand through her. Alyse drifted around and settled next to Willem in front of her tombstone. She watched as he poured himself a glass of red wine. He filled the other glass, set it next to the candle, and reached around for the bundle of roses. "Roses, Willem?" she said. "You remembered my Death Day!"

"Of course I remembered." he smiled as he raised his glass to her. "How could I forget? It's our anniversary as well."

Willem felt the feather touch of Alyse's fingers as they stirred his hair. Her hand trailed down to a tarnished, silver locket that he wore.

He opened it and looked fondly on the faded picture of her. A year ago, Willem caught her listening to him play. She left it for him as a token of her appreciation. He'd come to see her nearly everyday since, especially on her Death Day.

"To you, my Alyse."

Willem raised his glass and swallowed his wine. It warmed him against the late October cold.

"I missed you, Wil," Alyse said as she nestled closer to him.

Willem jumped and wine sloshed out of his glass. Alyse giggled and her slender, gloved hand caressed his face. He hadn't expected her to do that!

"Alyse what--"

"Ssh," she soothed. "It's been so cold without you, so lonely."

An unseen force gently pried the wine glass from his hand. It floated to where the other was and settled next to it. The buttons on his deep blue vest started to pop off one by one...

"I want to feel you, Wil," she whispered in his ear. "Let me feel you?"

Willem's mouth worked, but no words came. He looked down at Alyse, and her innocent, pale blue eyes looked back at him. Willem's shaky hand went to her cheek. It was cool velvet to his touch and he nodded.

More buttons popped off his dress shirt and Alyse's ghostly hand slipped inside. Willem sighed at her phantom touch. It was just cool enough to call attention to itself as it trailed down his smooth, bare chest. Alyse paused at the silver buckle of his belt. She idly played with it before she gently pressed between his legs.

Willem's breath caught in his throat and she felt him grow hard under her hand. He couldn't believe that he could feel her! He pressed back and his eyes slipped shut as Alyse's phantom hand passed through his leather pants. He felt her start to gently caress his cock.

"Will you play for me?" Alyse murmured in his ear as she stroked his hair from his eyes.

Willem gasped and his hips started to rock with her hand.

"Will you play our song? The one you played when we first met? Do you remember it?"

Willem barely nodded. His fingers clutched at her ephemeral dress but they sank through as Alyse's hand slid out. Despite his frustration, he smiled at Alyse as she drifted away.

"I remember." Willem said as he reached for his violin. "I read Bryant's Thanatopsis to you by the light of the moon after." He started to play the sweet dirge inspired by William Cullen Bryant's poem, the one he'd played on the night of their first meeting. Alyse's wan cheeks flushed a faint pink. The same thoughts she'd had then, came on her now as she watched Willem play. She wanted to run her hands through his strange, blue hair, to feel his warm, living flesh against slide against her.

The sweet sound of the violin embraced Alyse. It sank into her and she closed her eyes as her gloves started to fade. Her pallid hand found its way into her bodice and she grasped a breast. The faster Willem made the strings sing, the faster Alyse's funereal dress started to fade. "Oh Wil..." Alyse begged as her hands roamed her ghostly body. "Please..."

Willem looked up as he played and saw Alyse's gossamer body glimmer in the moonlight. His fingers almost faltered at her eerie beauty while she caressed herself with pale hands and slender fingers. Alyse cried out for him again as the last note crescendoed and faded away.

Willem's cock pressed almost painfully against the leather of his pants now as he sauntered towards Alyse. She hovered in the air, chest heaving from non-existent breaths. Her Willem looked so sexy the way his shirt and vest fluttered against his bare chest.

"Did you enjoy that, sweet?" he said. "Did I make you come?"

Alyse blushed at such a question and nodded. He could see a sparkle of wetness on her thighs. Willem set his violin and bow on top of her tombstone. He sat on one of the worn mausoleum stones and Alyse followed. She hovered above and her hair hung down like a dark curtain around him.

"I'm going to make you come again," Willem said as he reached for her. "I want to make love to you, Alyse."

For a moment, there was joy in her eyes but it was swiftly crushed by doubt.

"Wil... we can't. I'm just a--"

"I don't care," Willem said. "I want to try."

He felt the cool brush of Alyse's lips on his and he moaned.

"Alright," she said softly. "we can try."

Willem kissed her gently, almost chastely at first. There was the sound of buckles coming undone and zippers slowly being pulled down by invisible fingers. He barely felt Alyse settle on his cock, light and delicate. There was no weight to her at all.

"Alyse," Willem moaned.

He felt a strange spark of warmth as he slid inside her.

"Wil!" Alyse cried into his neck, "You feel so good, so warm!"

She needed his warmth, his heat and she shifted her hips in time with his slow, gentle thrusts. Willem buried his face in Alyse's dark curls and gathered her airy body to him as best he could. The scent of Earl Grey and plums, layered with sweet arousal grew stronger...

"My precious Alyse!" he moaned softly in her ear.

Alyse cried out and her back arched. Her silky, pale breasts pressed into Willem's chest as she threw her head back. Willem kissed her down her neck and took a cool nipple into his mouth as she rode him. The spark of warmth that he felt before, grew and pulsed around his hard cock. "I've dreamed of you, wanted you, my Alyse," Willem whispered desperately. "I need you--need you so much!"

Alyse's breathed warmed as Willem's skin cooled. Her ephemeral body grew more solid under his hands and he held her tight.

"You're mine, only mine!"

"Wil!" Alyse cried out, as she came, "I love you!"

Crystalline tears streamed down her cheeks and Wil brushed them away. His eyes never left hers as his hips worked faster and faster. He grit his teeth and grunted softly when he burst inside her.

"I love you!" Willem breathed as he stroked her hair. "I've always loved you..."

Alyse was warm and solid in his lap. This was a dream, he thought. A beautiful dream that he never wanted to wake from.

"Wil," Alyse whispered as she shifted on his lap and stroked his cheek. "You're cold—you're not supposed to be so cold."

Willem laughed softly. His cold lips trembled against her cheek as she brushed aside his hair. He felt so weak, so exhausted yet satisfied.

"It doesn't matter." he said as he nuzzled her neck. "I want to be with you, Alyse"

Alyse nestled against his chest and Willem's eyes drifted closed.

"We'll be together soon, Wil," she smiled.

"Yes, love. Always."


"Poor bastard..."

The officer stepped out of the glare of red and blue police lights to let the coroner through. The coroner bent down, snapped on some rubber gloves, and turned the pale, bluish face this way and that.

"Who found him? Did he have any ID?"

"His driver's license says he's John Willem Harris," the officer said. "Some homeless woman said she heard music coming from here. When she came in to see where it was coming from, she found him."

"Well," the coroner said as he pushed up his glasses. "looks like Mr. Harris had himself a private party." He gestured over to the bottle of wine and the glasses. The novena candle's flame barely flickered at the bottom of its glass.

"There were even roses."

The officer shook his head. He didn't understand what a young, handsome 20-something was doing in an old cemetery like this by himself.

"Whoever he was partying with is long gone now. Looks like they just left him."

"Yeah," the coroner said as he finished his examination and waved over the paramedics. "He probably passed out from the alcohol and succumbed to hypothermia sometime after."

"What a waste."

There was the sound of a zipper as the body bag closed, and the paramedics carted the body away. The coroner and the officer followed after. There was muted laughter somewhere nearby and the officer stopped. He swore he could hear violin music...

"What the hell was that?" he mumbled.

"What the hell was what?" the coroner called back. "Are you comin' already?"

Out of the corner of his eye, the officer saw two people—he thought they were people—pressed against a tree necking and groping at each other.

"Hey!" he yelled. "What are you doing?!"

He saw a flash of baby blue hair, same as the corpse. The young man took the woman's hand, gave the cop a grin and turned away.


The officer stared, speechless as the two faded away into the gray morning mist. The sound of violins followed.

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