Requiem, for a Nightmare.

Our beautiful composer takes another frightening step, descending into the pits of the Underworld where his birthplace resides. Arquette was born into the Underworld with a name no tongue of this era could speak. In this realm, under the tyrannical hierarchy Hades is where our composer must give his next performance. As he falls greater into the pits of the fiery depths, he can only so much help but think of the piece he is soon to conjure to the lost souls on the River of Styx. A fraction of a second later and we land within the confides of the pits. Arquette is numb to the screams and shrills of the souls condemned to suffer for eternity. He pulls on his white, silk gloves. He slides into his black woolen suit, casting aside his raspberry tie for he felt as such was inappropriate in such a damned place. He stepped out onto the stage designed for him, with the musicians he held with him in Paris. Instead of his striking visual characteristics, he was replaced with an unspeakable face of horns and fire exploding out of every orifice. The souls of the damned wondered around the stage, looking up to him as though a residual God had been casted among them. He lifted his fiery baton, and proceeded to guide the orchestra with immense grace and solidarity. The orchestra began to play the absolutely beautiful piece composed by Arquette's favorite composer, Tchaikovsky. The Waltz of the Flowers rang a dissonant tune throughout the burning hot realm, causing every lost soul to dance and sway to the strings. The piece itself bought memories that had been long forgotten straight back to those who have been dammed. Arquette twirled the baton as though everything in his career depended on it. The beautiful waltz lasted its full nine minutes, sparing no details. After the waltz was completed, our so dear and beloved composer, turned around and bowed towards the souls of the Styx, finally setting them free and giving them purpose. With the snap of his fingers, Arquette disappeared with a flash of white light, leaving absolutely no trace of his presence. This is the 2nd journal entry of his wonders, and we have not yet understood what he stands for. This journal will continue until I find the purpose of Mr. Arquette. Being a soul of the Styx really gives you purpose afterwards, just so you know.