"You're such a brown-noser, always buttering up Aunt Aurelia, telling her she's as pretty as a picture," Nina accused with a roll of
her eyes.
Mira pouted, "That's not true. | don't kiss butt. You never kiss a horse's butt, and it might kick back. And Aunt Aurelia really is
beautiful. Everyone says so."
Sheryl let out a yawn, feeling the day's toll from the endless card games, "Alright, girls, cut it out and hit the hay. I'm hitting the
sack too. Nighty-night," she said, ending the video call.
Mira reached for a bar of chocolate but Nina slapped her hand away, "No chocolate before bed, and it'll rot your teeth."
"I'll brush them," Mira retorted.
"You're such a little rascal, never listening. | give up," Nina said, hands on her hips and fuming.
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In another room, Skyler lay in bed and hit play on seerie tunes. The creepy music was unsettling, and he planned to edit it into
segments the next day.
He doubted Geoffrey had hidden any clues in the track, and it was more likely an attempt at a mind game, maybe even hypnosis.
But Skyler was just a kid, and kids couldn't be hypnotized, right? Still, how did Geoffrey manage to keep tabs on him?
Security had combed through Mossy Rock Retreat and didn’t find a hidden camera.
Geoffrey loved his cryptic games, and he'd relished them since he was a boy, reveling in others' confusion and boiling with anger if
anyone cracked his codes. He was a real piece of work, no wonder he had no friends.
He was probably holed up in Elysium by now, but surely not as content as Skyler, who wasn't busy concocting schemes with a mind
as dark as a dungeon.
The twisted music, Skyler realized, was altered, different from what he'd heard before. He wasn't a music buff, and someone else
must have done this for Geoffrey.
Closing his eyes, Skyler drifted off to sleep, only to be woken the next day by a knock on the door.
"Skyler," Kane said as Skyler rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "I've been thinking. If there's a clue in that music, it's likely in the
sheet music. We need to transcribe it."
Skyler smacked his forehead, "Bingo. Why didn't | think of that? But do we have anyone musically inclined in the family?"
"Aunt Beverly's a music teacher, but I'm worried the tune could bum her out or, worse, hypnotize her," Kane said with concern.
"I'll chop the music into bits. It'll lessen the impact," Skyler assured him.
"Alright, let's get to it," Kane agreed, and together they sought Beverly's help.
Beverly was actually thrilled at the prospect of dissecting a horror tune; she thrived on the thrill.
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"Sure, I'll score it out for you guys."
They headed to the soundproof study, ensuring no one else would be subjected to the sinister symphony. As Skyler played the first
segment, Beverly began to transcribe.
"The composer is such an odd duck, churning out such ear-sore material," she mused.
"Maybe the composer was battling their own demons," Kane suggested, ever the philosopher.
"Or it's the work of a twisted psycho, crafting a killer tune quite literally," Beverly chimed in.
Skyler added, "There was 'Gloomy Sunday," once dubbed 'the Hungarian Suicide Song." It was linked to over a hundred suicides
and banned for 13 years. Even psychoanalysts and psychologists couldn't fully fathom the composer's intent."
"But wasn't the song destroyed?" asked Beverly, intrigued.
"Sfolks with a morbid streak always manage to stash away the scores," shrugged Skyler.