Notes run through the family stream in veins protected by wooden flesh. The unstoppable flow consuming its host. The sound escaping from the pores in the wood traveling, consuming other victims. Expanding the disease. The notes from phantom’s past pulling a boy down to the starting steps. His journey begins with a single key being pressured down.


Shadows of sticks dance on white and black bars producing waves crashing into minds, taking control. An army of brainwashed victims clashing into others, spreading the disease. They pick up their weapons protecting protesters and the homeless. The special weapons create force fields emitting a beautiful hum. The disease grows, expanding from the shields grappling onto new hosts. I see small boy lifted from the ground, traveling towards the shield. His skin morphing into white and black bars. He is a conductor of the plague. Classes perfect his weapon, enhancing the spread. Heat seeking bullets disguised as sound find new victims. The boy sees a new era in the distance.


The next step is calm. A purple haze paints the night with a single island with a palm tree in the center. He hears the faint sound of native Hawaiian music. His eyes glow as he sees his new weapon. Rays of light silhouette his figure shaving his square keys to four lines. The light taps the lines creating a bright chime. The color of orange launches from the lines, spiraling away. The sound echoes off the step creating shadows mirroring me. Their colors are bright and loud. Joined together they face the step. Strummed at once they emit notes. The visual of their colors interlocking is amazing. The step folds away exposing a crowd of victims. The notes fall upon them, some are hit by the great experience. The few scream long live the plague, long live the plague. Their screams spawn a new stair raising from the ground beneath their feet.

The floor shakes, leaving a fault leading up the stairs. The notes turn dark blue bursting eardrums. The fresh stair drips of red paint, it is loud and exciting. The boy grows taller and more powerful combining the fresh paint and the newly born notes. He changes into a rigid angle with sharp edges and six parallel lines in the center. The fault grows larger, consuming the boy. He hears the echo of the crowd. As he falls he sees images of his same figure. Groups of rigid angles stand in front of innocents, inspiring them. He can see his future in them, spreading the disease. The boy is grabbed by a ledge slowly ascending. As his elevator rises he learns from the rooms ahead of him, he is inspired. He learns from them, watching their every detail. The echo grows louder. Long live the plague, long live the plague.