u/Neither_Rhubarb560

I heard a song played on a church organ a week or two ago, and haven't been able to get it out of my head or find what song it is.

It mostly consisted of repeated, pulsing triad chords, and rarely if ever deviated from that pattern, with the exception of the melody, which was high and used much more sustained, long notes as compared to the bass' short, repetitive chords.

Sorry if the description isn't good enough, as I don't know the most about music/music theory.

Hey, all. I’ll keep this short as I can, as I really need help. Things have been weird around my town, and I’m starting to get blamed for it.

It started about a week ago. It was a seemingly normal day in my relatively small town, excruciatingly boring as always. I began my day as usual, dragging myself out of bed at the early hour of 1:30 PM. The only abnormal thing was some large insect in my room, which I let out of my window with some difficulty and annoyance. Granted, I’m from the midwest, so anything I can hear buzzing is too big for me. I can’t imagine how long that thing was in my room, as it tore out of my room instantly the second I opened my window. I quickly forgot this encounter, as it was early in the day, and just a bug. The rest of the day was boring, until I got home from work, and learned from the local news that a local boy had been hospitalized, seemingly from some sting or something, to which he had an allergic reaction. The boy in question was a nuisance who had an awful reputation for breaking windows, terrorizing small animals, and so on. Looking back, I’m pretty certain he was just raised poorly. A pain, but he definitely didn’t deserve it. I almost choked when I learned that the sting occurred mere seconds before he would’ve launched a stone at one of my windows with a sling. In other words, whatever insect had stung the kid saved me the price of a new window.

The next day, I was awoken somewhat early by a sound. As I searched my room, groggy and confused, I found my window half open, but nothing else disturbed. Until, I walked downstairs, and found a note, written with reddish-brown ink on strange, tan paper. The hand writing was odd, scratchy, almost like it was written with just two fingers. The paper was odd as well, being far too thin and inconsistent in its makeup to be factory produced. The words on the note, or rather, the word, was simply, “PRINCE.” At this point, I’m freaking out. Someone broke into my house or something. But, after searching everything, nothing was missing, no-one was there, and I half thought I imagined it. With no other choice, I went to work. Once again, I got home, and found the vicinity of my home on the news. This time, a retired old man had died, from what was theorized to be a snake bite, although only one puncture was present. The man lived nearby, and his only hobby seemed to be local nitpicking, or being a one man HOA. From what I recall from a city council meeting, his most recent quest was to get a very old tree on my property cut down, since he deemed it an “eyesore,” and the tree was likely to be cut down soon despite my protests, as the mayor was used to letting the old man have his way. Of course, with his passing, that plan was dead in the water. Again, another weird event, which happened to coincidentally benefit me.

The next day, I awoke to a thin, yellow film of dust covering me, and more of that strange paper littering my home. All of the pieces of paper had simple messages scrawled on them. “PRINCE,” ”KIND,” “NOBLE,” “PROTECTOR,” and, the first to feature multiple words, sickeningly, “MY LOVE.”

I stayed home from work that day.

I spent all day trying to find what or who left those weird, creepy notes around my home. I felt like I was losing my mind, but kept seeing a mix of black and yellow just behind me, but every time I turned, nothing. Eventually, I stood still, gathering my thoughts. Maybe it's just a sick prank. Was that kid out of the hospital yet? Maybe it was someone I pissed off. Maybe I’m going insane, living alone…

And I felt it.

On my back, six nearly imperceptible, scratchy pressures on my back, like little claws or legs, all of which apply the tiniest amount of pressure. I feel something like breathing on the back of my neck. I froze, for a good few minutes. And then, I passed out, with a feeling of vertigo and dizziness as I fell forward. I didn't know at the time, but I was out for three whole days.

When I woke up, I found myself in my attic, laid on a mattress covered in the strange paper. I sat up groggily, looking forward to see a… I guess a shrine, of sorts. Draped in long, thin sheets of the paper, were around a dozen photos, taken from my home. Some were from weddings, others from funerals and birthdays, but all of them had one thing in common: me. Regardless of how old or new the photos were, they all had me somewhere in them. At the front of the shrine was another note, with the scrawl of “LOVE” on it. My stomach turned. I need out. I half crawled towards the exit to my attic, as the low ceiling was made even more cramped by the paper, which lined the ceiling, the walls, and hung down from the ceiling like vines. It looked so familiar. The walls were lined with hexagonal cells, like a beehive or maybe even…

A huge, black and yellow shape began to move from the back of the attic, the opposite side to where I was crawling. It was formerly laid on the floor, nestled in a large, hexagonal cell which reached from the floor to the ceiling. The mass of black and yellow approached me through the mess of hanging paper, it’s angular shape cutting through smoothly. It reached me, face to face. What stood before me was a wasp, larger than me by a good two feet in height. I half expected it to sting me to death on the spot, but it simply stared me down, compound eyes unblinking. I registered a slight emotion in those eyes before common sense returned to me, and i forced myself to scramble to the attic hatch. To my shock, the wasp let me go silently, and I tore through my home like a total coward. My intent was to get help. Police, Exterminators, Exorcists, anything. The warm welcome I received was that of a small mob, who immediately recognized me. It was hard to pick out clear phrases, but the thoughts of the mob mediated out to, “Where have you been hiding,” “We know you’ve been poisoning people,” “You’re dead meat when we get you.” Self preservation took over, and I fled, getting myself lost in the woods around town to escape the mob. When I finally stopped, wheezing and out of breath, it all started to hit. That… thing in my house, it had to be the source of the countless stings that plagued the town for a week now. With no one to blame, the townspeople found a conclusion to jump to, that being that stings seemed to occur around my town, and since i was missing for three days, I couldn’t exactly defend myself. But… those notes. What the hell made them? Don't tell me that thing…

I eventually snuck back to my home, which was thankfully untouched by the townspeople. I enter my home, to find the interior transformed, the paper nest now filling the entirety of my home. Hanging on the walls, are several large sheets of the paper, with a series of messages written for me. “PRINCE. LOST. FOR SO LONG. MY LIFE DRAINED IN SUCH A DROWNING PLACE. AN INDESTRUCTIBLE, STONE HARD BARRIER ENTOMBED ME. LOST. HOPE. ALL HOPE LOST. MY YEARS DRAINED OUT. I SAW YOU. MY CAPTOR. I HATED. HATED FOR SO LONG. HATED UNTIL I COULD NOT ANYMORE. AND THEN I LOVED. I FOUND MY CAPTOR WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEAST UPON THIS EARTH. A DIVINE IMAGE. I RAISED UP THE ONLY SONG I KNOW. AND MY PRINCE SET ME FREE. MY HOURS WERE OVER. I WAS SPENT. BUT AS I TASTED THE SUNS AIR, MY LOVE KILLED NATURE. AND I BEGAN TO LIVE PAST NATURE. I BEGAN TO LOVE PAST NATURE. I BECAME GREATER, AND I BEGAN TO REPAY MY PRINCE. I HURT THE ENEMIES OF MY PRINCE. MY PRINCE DID NOT SEE, SO LABORED FURTHER. I GREW GREATER. I COULD NOT RESIST SHADOWING MY PRINCE. LIKE THE FOOLISH MOTH AND THE LESSER SUN. BUT MY SUN IS NOT LESSER. MY SUN. MY LOVE. MY PAPER PRINCE.”

I walked along the wall, following the trail of frantic messages towards my bedroom. At the end of the trail, was a disturbingly lovingly crafted crown, made from wasps paper. At this point, I could feel the cold, enamored gaze of those compound eyes on my back, and I knew what I had to do, or else be torn to shreds by my spurned admirer. I lifted up the crown, and put it on my head. I heard the nearly inaudible sound of the wasp retreating into the papery depths of my home. I'm typing this on my near dead phone, my last connection to civilization. I need help. The townspeople blame me for the wasps attacks, her infatuated crusade. Maybe I am to blame. Maybe I should've just killed the insect I let out of my room. But I also have no chance of escaping this obsessed… thing. I just know, anywhere I go, she'll follow. She'll find me. She's smarter, faster, and stronger than any person, with a lethal sting to deliver zealous judgment.

I need help. I need to get away. I'm too afraid to even take off this stupid paper crown.