"'Atop a hill, beneath a garden...

Lays the madman's deathly pardon...

His bones cracked, flesh twisted...

For his ideals were quite insisted...

No one loved the madman for true...

But he loved you and you and you...

His mortal folly was deep belief...

In the handsome life of a thief...

So on the night of which he'd fly...

He sang the madman's lullaby...

He laughed until he thought he'd die...

To sing such madman's lullaby.'

These words of steely silver drift upon a young woman's ears. They pass the muddy hair that's grown upon the years. And as they whisper words of love to her loveless mind. She feels the tension in her hands begin to unwind. Above her lies a man unknown, mad by design. And kindly sing does he now the words that she'll be fine. But simple recitation satisfies her not. For what she wants is simple, to leave behind her lot.

And if a dream is this, then a mighty dream it is. For if she were to come awake she find herself of his. The man she hates is just behind, waiting for her wake. And when she comes back to life, it is pain he will stake.

'So drift away into the night, Miss Elle, will she now.'

For the madman clutching her sweet breath won't always be around.'" I am Elle, properly Ellen Cordial Masthersin. And the inscription I just spoke aloud is the last entry in my journal. It will always be the last entry, because tonight marks the night I run. The night my problems finally leave me behind. Those words of pure gold were told to me by the only man I'll ever love. And, tonight, when I leave to see him I will die. But, it is the most meaningful, worthy way to die when you die in sheer serenity. True, I've never glanced upon his true face, only a facade, I love this man with my whole heart, and I love him all the same.

Perhaps my story interests you, if so then stay along. And if you listen, and I mean hear, you'll know the madman's song.