The music box

I walk upstairs, tried form the long exhausting day, just ready to go to sleep. When I get to my room though, my eyes immediately spot a little package on the foot of my bed.

Curiosity got the best of me

I walked over and picked it up, looking at the tiny thing that weighed no more than a loaf of bread. It made a chiming sound as I shook it slightly. My fingers went to the bow and I started to undo the wrapper, carefully not to hurt whatever was wrapped inside.

When my fingers came in contact with a small metal box, I was confused. Though as I finished unwrapping it, I a saw all the little intricate designs lacing the outside of this antique. A small chuckled came from my chest and I smiled at the polishings, knowing that someone took the time to clean this thing up before wrapping it.

Then a thought crossed my mind.

No one else lives here.

So who could have put it on my bed?

I opened the box to see a tiny little dancer, twirling in  front of a mirror that was on the inside of the lid. Then, I was suddenly startled as music started to play, as if it was already wound up and just waiting for me to open it. I smiled at the small child like tune, then, suddenly... My yes caught the reflection of a man dressed in black. 

A hunting knife in his hand.

She turned around and gasped. The cloaked figure emerged, shaking the crude knife in his hand. His eyes were forlorn, lost in some dark other world. His whole body was shaking in what seemed like sick excitement. She looked him over again, looking for some sort of indication that she knew him, that this was a joke. The more she analyzed the more she panicked. Her heart raced and her forehead started to sweat.

“Mary,” he whispered, almost delusional. His voiced cracked and rumbled.

She couldn’t stop shaking, “Who are you?”

He pointed the knife closer to her neck, “Play it again!” He insisted. “Don’t you like our wedding gift?”

She fumbled with the opening, but managed to open it again. The music started as innocently as ever. Her eyes were wet and she couldn’t stop heaving. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He shook his head, “I would never hurt you, Martha.” He cooed, and wiped a tear from her face. She winced but knew better to fight back. “That’s a good girl.” He mused. “I knew you loved this melody. It’s the one that played when we first met.” His eyes focused into something in the background, reminiscing. “I knew it would make the best wedding present, but then, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

He fumbled with one hand into his pocket and brandished a simple gold ring. “It’s your mother’s. Remember? You always said you wanted one exactly like hers.” He pushed her to sit on her bed, and bowed on one knee.

“Martha, marry me.”

The woman stood up and backed away, “I’m not Martha,” she shook her head, “or Mary.”
She bolted to her nightstand where she had left her phone, “I’m calling the police!”
She fumbled through her passcode, forgetting about the emergency dial, and dialed 911.

“MARTHA!” He howled in a hellish rage. He bolted to her and hammered her head with the back of his knife. She immedialty collapsed to the floor. He took the phone, barely dialing, “911 what’s your emergency?”

“No, I’m sorry. It was a false alarm. Thank you.” He hanged up and tossed the phone across the room.

He dragged her body to the bed and got to work on making rope out of the sheets and random electrical cords  around the house. Before he tied her down, he found a sultry red dress her closet and dressed her. He took a moment to fix her hair and makeup as well. After the touch ups were finished, he tied her up. He then got to work on his own appearance.