you can also search 'nightmare is over the years with a piano' on youtube and click on the one from butterfly, that's the audio i was thinking of more specifically when it comes to this story
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The large oaken doors were heavy, only made heavier with the weight of the memories behind them. The thick knobs felt dull under his light grip, the once brilliant gold now faded to dark brown. It was cold in his hand, the doors groaning their protest when he pushed.
He knew what he'd see on the other side, knew the room like his own mind. He could picture his old piano, could see the songbook and its petrified pages in high definition. And yet, despite knowing, he still felt his soul ache when he saw it once more.
It was a large room, fit for a ball, with marble floors and excessive curtains. Nestled neatly against the wall, the large classical instrument sat, almost untouched by time. The songbook, yellowed with age and faded from the years, still sat open to the same song. Nightmare didn't need to read it anymore, the notes engrained in his mind in a way that not even his old age could ruin. It was one of the only things that would stay forever clear, enough that he could write it out perfectly.
His fingers twitched over ghostly keys, his corruption rippling, and he let out a weak breath.
"..please? y..hav'n't played in... so long."
His chuckle came out hoarse, his own voice echoing despite how he murmured the same response he'd given all those years ago. "..Solo para ti, mi amor..."
Phantom Horror smiled brightly, red-cheeked and delighted, Nightmare blinked and then he was gone and all there was, was an empty room and H̷o̷r̷r̷o̷r̷'̷s his favorite piano.
The stool creaked when he sat, the key cover squealed when he moved it aside, the keys wheezed when he pressed them, and his shoulders shook when he started to play ̷H̷o̷r̷r̷o̷r̷'̷s̷ his favorite song. Horror always liked the slow build-up. Killer liked to joke about the first five minutes, calling it the foreplay of the song. Dust liked to sit with him sometimes and simply enjoy the melody in silence. Cross liked to watch, and then when he thought he was alone, he'd try to do it himself. The look of pride when he'd finally gotten it was something Nightmare prayed he'd never forget.
"Night, Night, look! I'm-!"
He hit a wrong note, and the tune went sour. He pressed the wrong keys, again, and again, and again, and before he knew what he was doing, he'd slammed both hands onto the piano and froze at the shriek it gave in response. The songbook had fallen over, sitting stiffly on the ground. Nightmare was afraid to pick it up, afraid that if he touched it, it would crumble away into nothing. J̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷H̷o̷r̷r̷o̷r̷,̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷D̷u̷s̷t̷,̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷C̷r̷o̷s̷s̷,̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷K̷i̷l̷l̷e̷r̷,̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷m̷-̷
He gingerly reached out, holding his breath. The pages crinkled and popped, the spine sounding like cracking wood as he flipped back to the page he wanted. It sat heavily in its resting place, and he pulled away quickly, relaxing the longer nothing happened.
And yet, despite nothing going wrong, despite the lack of issues, Nightmare still felt tears burning in his eye.
Strange.
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Horror tilted his head, metaphorical ears pricking at a strangely familiar sound. Dust hummed his question as he turned, blinking lazily up at him. "...s' the piano... cantcha hear it..too?" Dust blinked again, slow and confused. "...what piano?" Horror frowned, "..th' one night... used to..??" His brow furrowed, his train of thought derailing quickly. Dust nudged him lightly, bringing him back to attention. "what piano, big guy?"
Horror's head tilted further. "...piano..??" Had he said something about a piano? The stove beeped and his mind was once again thrown off, and he forgot the subject entirely, leaving Dust to stare at him in silent confusion. Where had Horror gotten the idea of pianos?
They didn't even own one, much less did Nightmare ever mention one. Hell, Dust hadn't ever seen one in person. He wanted to press the issue more, but Horror grinned at him hopefully, presenting a plate of some kind of experimental mush, and Dust decided to let it go. Besides, it was probably nothing more than one of Horror's random thoughts.
[Dust is silent at he stares at Nightmare through the crack in the door, and for a moment, he thinks that Horror was right about there being a piano somewhere in here. Nightmare was certainly seemed to have played one before, with his eye closed and his twitching fingers poised over an imaginary keyboard. It was familiar in a way that Dust couldn't understand.]
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weird, it's almost like they have someone else's memories or something