本帖最后由 sammy 于 2010-9-20 15:16 编辑
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Julia Brown loved to dip into the occult. She never missed a chance to pick up an article on one of the ancient pagan religions, or to have a quick look through one of her grandfather’s ancient tomes. She didn’t really believe in the occult image with which she clothed herself, but she appreciated how it kept the mundane people of her day-to-day life at bay.
Julia was an attractive, quiet woman who had survived a rough childhood with no help from her parents. Scarred by her past, she did not trust those around her, and while there was many a would-be suitor who would gladly offer his arm in an attempt to save her. Salvation was the last thing Julia Brown was seeking, as unbelievable as it may sound to those who prefer the proximity of friends and the comforts of community. Julia was perfectly contení to spend the bulk of her free time in the close confines of her drab, single-bedroom apartment. There she spent her time bowing her grandfather's violin to the strange notes of the syncopated, atonal music that only she could hear.
Julia worked as a seamstress in a government factory, and found her job neither pleasant nor rewarding. Each day she would sleep-walk through the repetitive tasks of her work, dreaming up mysterious new compositions. After work, she would rush home to play them on the ancient violin. She often played the entire night, not even bothering to stop for dinner, carrying on into the wee hours of the morning. Sleeping was never a high priority: she felt that the night was her most inspired time. She simply played better the later it got.
Not too long ago, however, her "preference" for the magic hours of the night changed to something a little more ominous. It was not that strange dreams or nightmares troubled Julia Brown, nothing that childish. Instead, what frightened her about going to sleep was the anticipation of what she would find when she woke up.
The first time it happened, after shaking off I he grip of sleep, she woke in a cold swcal to find the sink in her bathroom running. Looking down at the empty drinking glass on the counter, Julia reasoned that she must have played herself to a state of both physical and mental delirium, gotten a drink of water, and simply forgotten to turn off the faucet. That theory was dashed when she went to the kitchen and found the faucet there running as well.
"I must have been further gone than I thought," she muttered to herself as she turned off the water, staring suspiciously over her shoulder at the violin. She tried to recall the last moments before going to sleep. However, she could only remember the final composition of the night, a haunting, memory driven ensemble of the music of Eric Zann, music that she had heard once, years ago, as a child. Only a largo droplet of sweat, rolling from her brow, down her cheek, and into her mouth was able to stir her from the daydream. "I need to get to work."
That day she was, as usual, unable to focus on her work, but it was not the music of the violin that held her attention. Rather, she could not escape from the recollection of waking up to find the sinks in her bathroom and kitchen running. Try as she might she could not remember turning them on.
When the workday finally carne to an end. Julia hurried home with a desire to lose herself in the haunting music of her violin. As she played, though, she was continuously distracted by the faucet on her sink. She could not keep her gaze away from the innocent device, and she was spending more time staring al the sink than playing the instrument. "This can't be happening." she thought as she got up to take a closer look at the faucet, and she laughed lo herself at that thought, not even knowing what "this" was. With the understanding that she wasn't going to be able to focus on her music that night, Julia made certain that both of the faucets were off, and went to bed. The next morning, she woke with a start. She could hear the water, and knew that it, whatever "it" was, had gotten worse. Not only were the faucets on the two sinks running, but someone had turned on the bath-tub as well. Further, all of the drains were haphazardly stuffed with an article of her clothing. A slow build-up of water had crept above the rims and trickled out onto the floor of her apartment. Julia called off work that day, and went out to buy new towels.
The next few nights she stayed awake later and later. She tried to prevent herself from sleepwalking by dozing off in her chair with the lights on. Alas, every morning she would wake to find the faucets running full valve and the drains stuffed with clothing, rags, or anything else she was able to find in the dead of the night. To make matters worse, the water running into her house was no longer the clear sanitized solution one would expect; it had become a dirty, sludgy brown.
Julia kept the experience to herself. She resolved to try sleeping pills, hoping to kick the problem once and for all. "I just have a weird case of sleepwalking." she rationalized. "If I can knock myself out with pills, I won't be able to turn on the water."
After returning from the drug store, Julia picked up her violin for the first time in a week. She played into the darkest hours of the night, and then swallowed a number of sleeping pills, dry. She was not about to get a glass of water. She went to bed with the feeling that she had out-thought the problem, and that things were about to get back to normal.
The following morning, Julia Brown woke to find herself naked, in the cold, muddy water of an overflowing tub.
