this is false

Before they knew how to interpret what happened, it was poorly described and highly inaccurate. The following is an example of such. It never happened.

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She lies, lazily, on her back, eyes glazed over.
“Bring it bring it bring it bring it back.”
Silky orbs dart to the corner of the room. Almost like home.
“I… you see… it just won’t work.”
“Bring it bring it bring it BACK,” repeats the voice from the dark corner.
“Everything, you see, everything is lacking, and then only the Room is left, and reigning, the rain comes, and the Leech King is smiling in your face.”
She twists and curls up.
“Cantabile, why…?”
“Dead poet you can’t be real you can’t come forth shut up shut up shut UP, come back bring it on.”
“I’m only akin to hear it coming forth from a prince, and the birthright of the King is yours and yours alone.”
Lurching from the shadows, the mechanical drone dragging itself from her throat, a marionette, a cheshire, a continuing adjective, Saline, claws at Cantabile’s face.
“This isn’t right. This is wrong. Why can’t I speak?” screams the girl on the bed to a silent window pane.
“If you will it, do it.”
Cantabile’s poetic voice is quiet and dark as he utters the words. Saline is a blur of limbs and hissing false fur.
“No, no, no, stop… please… I can’t stand it… Why?”
The rain raps against the glass, a chill wind whistles through the cracks in the wall.
“This ain’t no gotdamn nothin’ no child’s play just child prey. You can’t refuse this youyouyou can’t stop you gotta keep goin’ gotta keep doin’ gotta STOP.”
Sobbing, the girl falls off the bed, covered in covers and freezing from the cold of love. The house goes quiet, Cantabile’s eye peering at Saline as she dissipates into the shadows.
“And my Prince do come forth I am here only for You and every other.”
The girl keeps silent.
“From now on You can only be the one to success the person We fear and They abhor, while You are the brutal child of Love.”
She turned her head away.
“Cantabile… I...”
“12% is a name fitting for you, for that you are and that you shall be. Praise!”
Her eyes widen in horror as he utters these words, and she starts crying again. Of course, this was the only way things could work in the farmhouse, nothing to be surprised about. It was her fault for ever having come here. August used to always say how selfish she was because of it. Looking back on it, this seemed awfully true.
She thrust her face up to look Cantabile in the eye, feeling bile rise in her throat.
“Where is Atti?”