Description of a person lol :P

hello :) well this is a description of a person, I wrote it in english class and we had to make the end surprising so I hope you guys like it :D P.S if you want more of the story just comment and I will write the next "episode" shall we call it :)
here goes

It was summer, the air was hot and dense yet the wind brought a cooling dampness that fell over the guests. Amongst the rustling of chiffon fabric, clinking of wine glasses that were filled to the brim, the chitter while the wives made small talk, and the clack of shoes in the ballroom, dancing to a brass orchestra. Midst it all, I could still hear it, the faint music, a person strumming the stings of a guitar as if caressing a dear one. As if it were calling me, seducing me to come and find its origins. I picked up the long fussy hem of my dress and began to walk, and walk, and walk. Soon I could hear the music getting louder, and louder as I got close; suddenly the music stopped. 

A horrible sputtering sound was made, as if someone had just been stabbed. I turned around and began to run. Run as fast as I can and then I heard  faint footsteps behind me, the footsteps started falling in step with my heartbeat. Soon enough I felt a hand grab my wrist and it jerked me back. As my face turned, out of the corner of my eyes I saw him, tall, thin, well dressed but the tips of his sleeves were stained with blood that seeped up to his elbows. His one hand, holding a knife, the other grabbed onto my wrist. 

I looked at my arm trying to think of a way to jerk away. But he had a tight grip, his hands were full of scars and the skin on his fingers were rough with lots of fold lines, lines that could only imply one thing. It was him, he was the one paying the music. His blue eyes that struck out like  two gems. Eyes that seemed to be as clear as the sky; yet just as endless with high cheekbones that shaped his face. Yet there was something, something that seemed off, something important yet I cant put my finger on it. He let go of my hand and stood there, staring at me. I asked him “were you the one playing the music?”  and he nodded. I asked him what his name was. He opened his mouth to speak, and as he did, I noticed it. That something that put me off. That something that suddenly made all of his magnificence meaningless and explained all the blood around his sleeves. He had no tongue. 

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