Hannah's POV
I woke up the next morning, with the duvet on Ashton's bed wrapped tightly around my body. I peeled the duvet away from my body and walked to the door of his bedroom.
Opening it, I padded down the hallway in my bare feet.
"Ashton?" I called out, but I saw a note stuck to his apartment door.
"Had to go to work early. Really sorry, but I'll catch up with you some other time. Feel free to make yourself breakfast or some food. I left a spare key on the rack, lock the door and take it with you and you can give it back to me next time I see you."
I sighed and walked back into Ashton's room, pulling my hoodie back on and slipping back into my shoes.
When I walked into Ashton's kitchen, I decided not to make myself breakfast and just grabbed the key off the rack, locking the apartment behind me.
I stuck my earphones in and walked back to the house. I really didn't want to go back, but I didn't have anywhere else to go.
Soon, I had started to walk up the path to my Great Aunt's house. I stopped as I put my key in the lock and tried to control my shaky breathing.
Your okay, Hannah.
Nothing is going to happen to you.
He can't really hurt you.
He's dead.
I nodded my head, agreeing with my thoughts as I opened the door. I expected something to happen, like Michael would jump out at me or something.
But there was nothing.
There was just an eerie silence. I sighed and walked into the living room, opening one of my cardboard boxes I had beside the sofa. I found my laptop and my charger.
I plugged it in and I sat down on the sofa, cross-legged and put the laptop in my lap.
I logged in and clicked into Google and took a deep breath.
"Clifford Family Murder." I typed this in hesitantly and clicked enter.
Lots and lots of search results showed up. My eyes scanned over the first few and I clicked on the hyperlinks.
"Police were shocked and appalled at the murder of the Clifford family. All of them were shot, the mother in her heart, the son, receiving a fatal shot to his side. The father was found with a gun wound to the head, which makes police think that it was self-murder."
I went back onto the result page and clicked on another page.
"Police can confirm that the son, Michael Clifford, was abused before he was killed, leading police to think the father killed his wife and son."
As I clicked on more results, bile starting to rise on my throat, I started to find pictures.
Some were pictures of Michael, dressed in a white shirt, worker's trousers and boots, green eyes and dark hair and others were some of his body after police found him.
In the end, I shut the laptop closed, feeling a little bit sick.
That's when I heard a door slam close from upstairs.
I jumped off the sofa in fright.
"He's just trying to scare you," a voice in my head whispered, but I wasn't so sure about that.
I quickly walked into the hall and picked up one of my Great Aunt's walking sticks and slowly started to walk up the stairs.
As I reached the top of the stairs, I could see trails of blood leading to the closed door...
Which was the door to my room.
"Be brave." A voice in my head said and I took a deep breath, reaching out for the door handle. I tried getting it open, but it didn't help.
I sighed, slapping the door in fury, ran downstairs and bolted to the kitchen.
I opened my Great Aunt's cupboard and rummaged through literally everything she had in there, until I found a heavy looking hammer.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I ran back up the stairs and froze in my tracks.
The door to my bedroom was open.
It was open wide.
And that's when I heard the soft melody of the music box start to play.
"Oh my god," I whispered, tears starting to appear in my eyes.
I walked over to the door and I peered into my room.
The music box was lying in the middle of the floor, it's soft melody still being played.
I swallowed the liquid that had risen in my throat and walked over, picking the music box up in my clammy hands. I placed my hand over the key, which stopped the music being played and left the room in a deafening silence.
That was when I felt someone's breath fan my ear.
"Do you want to play, babe?" That oh so familiar voice whispered in my ear. I whirled around to see Michael standing there, looking straight back at me, his black eyes staring into mine.
I let out a loud scream, stumbling backwards, and closing my bedroom door, just as he started to advance towards me. I sprinted down the stairs, running for the front door, but when I placed both hands on it to yank it open, it was locked.
"No!" I screamed and I placed my back up against the door. My chest was rising and falling too quickly and I felt beads of sweat roll down my forehead.
And just like that, every light in the house switched off, leaving me surrounded by darkness...
