Chapter 6 - The Footsteps on the Stairs
The wooden staircase leading down from the attic groaned under David’s heavy boots as he descended into the dim hallway, the iron fireplace poker gripped tightly in his right hand. Sarah followed close behind, keeping one hand firmly on Lily’s shoulder to guide the little girl through the suffocating gloom. The power outage had persisted, leaving the entire house lit only by the erratic, sweeping beam of David’s phone flashlight and the occasional eerie flash of lightning through the high windows.
As they reached the second-floor landing, the heavy thud they had heard earlier was explained. The bedroom door at the end of the hall—a guest room that had remained locked and unused for years—stood wide open.
Sarah gasped, stopping dead in her tracks. "We left that door locked. The key has been on the hook in the kitchen since we moved in."
David raised the flashlight, sweeping the beam across the threshold of the open guest room. The room was pristine, yet entirely altered. Dust motes swirled in the LED beam, illuminating a small antique wooden table that had somehow been dragged from the corner to the center of the room. Resting neatly on top of the table was a single, old-fashioned music box inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
"David, don't go in there," Sarah warned, her voice tight with rising panic. "This house... something is wrong with this house."
"We're going to check every square inch," David replied stubbornly, though his eyes darted nervously around the shadowy corners. "If someone broke in through a window, I'm going to find them."
He stepped cautiously into the guest room, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. As he drew closer to the antique table, the music box suddenly sprang to life on its own. A slow, hauntingly delicate lullaby began to play, filling the silent bedroom with tinny, echoing notes that sounded as though they were being played underwater.
Lily broke away from Sarah’s grasp before her mother could react, running lightly across the threshold and stopping right in front of the antique table. She stared down at the rotating metal cylinder inside the open music box.
"That's my song," Lily whispered, her big blue eyes reflecting the tiny brass gears turning inside. "Grandma sang that to me before she passed away. How does the girl know my song?"
Sarah rushed into the room, grabbing Lily’s hand and pulling her backward. "Get away from it, Lily! Now!"
David reached out and slammed the lid of the music box shut, cutting off the eerie melody mid-note. The sudden silence that followed was heavier and more oppressive than the music had been. He looked down at the brass clasp of the box and noticed something etched into the metal surface: C.M. - 1994.
"Clara Miller," David murmured, his blood running cold.
May you like
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door of the guest room slammed shut behind them with a deafening crash, plunging them into absolute darkness as the flashlight flickered and died.
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