Danse Macabre

The belltower strikes midnight, its powerful chimes echo throughout the town. It’s an ordinary night, yet somewhere in the church’s burial grounds, the atmosphere becomes tense. As Death idly wanders the churchyard, slowly pacing between tombstones, he sighs to himself, disappointed in the leisurely calm of the sleeping town. “Oh, how unbearable it is to wait for a disturbance to the tranquility. It has been far too clean, with no stench of blood or decay spoiling the air. Not to mention the endless labor I am cursed with. It is time for a change, for amusement!”, he exclaims to himself, lifting his fiddle onto his shoulder. Suddenly, the graveyard turns into an orchestra: the concert of the century is about to begin.

The calm is violently interrupted by a malicious tritone, an unnerving timbre of pure barbarity, awaking those lying six feet under. The dead begin to break through their graves, desperately pushing themselves out. Death starts his solo, a splendid tribute to earthly prosperity. The delightful music awakes an uncontrollable urge to dance, a hunger for life. Skeletons rise from their tombs like flowers in the early spring and begin to make their way through the churchyard, mindlessly dancing to the rhythm of the song. “Yes, go, my slaves, do my bidding and relish in the dance of life!”, he commands them, maniacally roaring. The sound of bones crushing fills the air, as the skeletons climb over the churchyard's walls. They start to head deeper into town, swinging their arms and kicking their feet. The melody of the violin and the percussion of clacking limbs and jaws alert the townspeople.

Panic spreads across the town, with people screaming at the sight. The music causes many to fall into a deep sleep, blissfully unaware of the absolute terror outside. The rest, however, no matter status or wealth, end up in a trance-like state of utter horror, fearing that their lives are being violently stripped away from them. They end up listening to the same inviting but vicious tune of the fate that befalls them all, the only universal, uniting force that all of humanity is prey to. Yet, it causes a quick change in attitude, a sudden desire for pleasure: a vain attempt to hold on to what little time is left before ultimate doom. And so, they start to dance. People rush out into the streets, many led by skeletons: the town becomes a ball, with masses of souls all swinging, twirling, and skipping. People can be heard lazily laughing and chattering, creating a boisterous contrast to the event’s macabre nature.

As the skeletons make their merry way across the town, they break into the homes of all kinds of people. One man, a shopkeeper in the heart of the town, meets such a fate, having been woken from his slumber by the music and hassle. He is greeted by one of the dancing dead: the skeleton reaches its hand out to him in a teasing manner, insisting he join the fun. The shopkeeper, feeling untamable dread, yells in a horrified voice: “Who are you? What do you want from me!?” Not knowing what to do, he flees his room in a panic, leaving all his possessions behind. As he tumbles his way through the room, he knocks over furniture and shatters pottery. Despite having spent all his life trying to find success, suddenly, the only thing that matters to him is survival. Nevertheless, the effort is futile, for as he makes his way to the stairwell, he is greeted by an army guarding his door. The skeletons make their way up the stairs. Caught off guard, the man gives in to the music: his body drops to the floor, and his limbs, unusually hollow, start to move uncontrollably. The dead guide him out into the streets to join the parade.

Further away from the town’s center, still bustling with hedonistic joy, can be found a small farmhouse. In it lives a poor family of farmers, most of whom are sound asleep but for a young child who is greeted by the dead that are slowly entering the room. “What’s going on? And, who are you?!” the child shrieks, confused and frightened. “Don’t be afraid, come and join the others. Take part in the fun!”, a voice responds in a rather gentle and calming way. “But, I’m scared, and I can’t just leave my parents alone!”, she argues. “Don’t worry, just follow the sound of the music and you shall be guided down the right path. Soon, you won’t have to worry about that sickly body of yours, either,” the voice assures her. The child stands up but quickly starts coughing and falling to the floor. The skeletons pick her up and carry her away. Now, she finds herself peacefully dancing, with no suffering, feeling nothing but pure bliss and the moving tides of the beautiful music. After years of having to make do with what little the family could afford, the hardship is finally over. Yet, it is a terrible fate for a child that couldn’t flourish, to suddenly and violently be pulled away, only to lie in the cold ground for the rest of eternity.

Closer to the countryside, far from where the peasants live, can be found a magnificent mansion, home to a noble family. In one of the numerous rooms lies a wealthy woman, awoken by the strange melody of death. A group of skeletons barge into her room, like with the rest. As they approach her, offering to dance, she screams in absolute disbelief: “Burglars?! Leave me alone, and don’t you dare touch anything here!” The dead don’t seem to care about her pitiful demands and start to grab her, tearing the fabric of her gown, as they lead her outside. “Stop this nonsense and let go of me!” she screams in a desperate rebellion, refusing to submit to her fate. Still, she ends up complying with the warmth of music and starts to dance, moving towards the town to join the rest. She becomes part of the mass, completely indistinguishable from the commoners, just another wandering soul to haunt the town. The earthly form she chose to put so much of her time into turns into an ashen gray corpse, slowly decaying away. It is impossible to tell the origins of each soul in the mob, as if everyone has degraded into some ground state, with all earthly pleasure and suffering molding into one single fundamental force, the will to live.

As more souls partake in this amusing event, the chatter and clatter becomes louder and louder. The streets become crowded, with souls trampling and pushing each other, some quietly moaning as they lie on the ground, unable to get up. The scene enters a crescendo, with the music getting stronger as Death tries to keep up with the ever-growing orchestra. But, as the scene develops, the night starts coming to a close: the sun rises from beyond the horizon. Unable to handle the burning light, the skeletons flee back to the churchyard, leaving behind the dancing masses. As they make their way through the crowd, many push people out of the way, causing even more chaos. The undead swarm up the church’s walls, desperately trying to reach their tombs before they burst into flames. Soon, the sun begins to show itself, proudly boasting its rays. The music speeds up as it comes to an end, and the dancing masses start collapsing to the ground, each fall acting as percussion to the wild melody.

Soon, everything is over, as if nothing ever happened. When the sun finally lights up the town, glowing as a blazing ball of red flames, the lost souls start to boil away, evaporating into a sort of shimmering dust. The wind picks it up and carries the souls towards the hands of death. Amidst the silence, Death starts to play a calming solo, one almost melancholic in nature. He finishes his spectacular performance and lowers his bow. As the bright cloud of souls fly towards him, he collects his bounty, and silently walks away. Having been thoroughly entertained, and satisfied with his work, Death moves on with his eternal labor, thinking nothing of the aftermath of his actions.

After all the mayhem, the town is mostly unscathed, aside from the mass grieving. The mystery of the dance is never to be solved, but those unaffected by the trance wake up as usual and continue with their lives. Shops open up for business, farmers tend to their fields, and nobles get ready for a hearty breakfast. Those who were unfortunate enough to hear Death play are resting in an everlasting sleep, unbothered by the tragedies of mortal striving. Regardless of what faces humanity, it will always try to prosper, as long as the sun continues to rise every morning.