Less.

Keys.

Less: Day 12

Keys.

"Officer Harris, do you report? Over."

"Reading you loud and clear amigo, what's up?"

"We got a report of a 601 on Deer Park Road."

"I'm afraid that's a no can do operator, I'm already on a call."

"What you on?"

"A 419."

"A noise complaint! Come on Harris that won't take you long, probably just a couple of kids."

"Apparently, it's an old lady playing the piano too loud, wouldn't you know!"

"Well after you're done, head over to Deer Park. And while you're there, ask her if she knows any Elton John."

"Very funny. Yeah sure, I'm five minutes from it. Over and out."

Officer Harris placed his radio on the dash, got out of his cruiser and headed up the overgrown pathway towards the darkened house. In the day, the house was a cheapy pink colouring, but at night held a greyish blue. As he walked up, he heard faint muffled piano notes coming from inside. In the window of the house, he could see one lamp holding a hue of warmth over the front room. The rest of the inside was left in darkness, only the top window held the black silhouette of a man. When he arrived at the door, the officer noticed large cobwebs around the handle.

"Hello, Miss?" He spoke while knocking on the door. "I'm officer Harris, we've had-" But his words were cut off by the first few notes of Für Elise reaching loudly through the door. He knocked, again, harder this time.
No answer.

"Must be deaf, poor thing."

A thought danced in his mind. "Wasn't she playing the keys? How can she play when she's deaf? Wait Mozart was deaf, no? It wasn't him it was no- yeah, it was Mozart."

He shook his head to almost empty the thoughts out of his ears.

"I'm coming in."

He turned the handle and it opened with a harsh whistled screech. The sound made him quickly place one hand on his holster and then, after seeing no one, insert his fingers into both ears. "Jesus! I've never heard a door make that noise what the-"

Harris heard a muffled sound of feet running up the stairs. He pulled his fingers out of his ears to notice there was blood on each fingertip.

"The fuck? Hello? You're gonna want to fix that door for your own safety, hello?

The light that had been fighting the darkness in the front room was now gone. A blue tint now washed over the interior of the old house. The living area was very outdated and looked like it hadn't been dusted in months. A smell of mothballs evaded his nostrils. The officer walked further in to notice a staircase. He leant on a banister and shouted up, "Hello! Madam, Sir? I saw in the window; you aren't in any trouble. I just need to talk to you."

Harris shook his head. "Are they hiding from me? Sometimes the old are worse than the young."

He looked around the room, he noticed a pair of legs dangling from a stool. As he walked closer, he saw it was a piano stool that an old lady was sitting upon; her hands were hovering over the keys, her back hunched over, and her face resting against the sheet music.

"Poor thing must of fell asleep playing." Officer Harris chuckled as he silently walked over, placed a hand on her shoulder and lightly shook it.

"Hello mam? Don't be alarmed I just wanted-"

The old lady began to lean back in her chair, the chair cracked as she did so. She then fell off it and landed on the carpet with a thud. Her body laid stiffly.