Carol rushed to her car, threw open the door and climbed in. In the naked glow of the dome light she immediately saw the shattered passenger side window and particles of glass strewn on the seat. Why would someone break the window when the car was unlocked?
Carol sat, hugging herself, and staring out the windows at the black monstrosity of a building. The broken window deprived the car of any warmth, and within 25 minutes she was shivering. Warily, she returned to the building. Once inside she directed the flashlight to the piano. It sat silent in the darkness. Beneath the bath of light everything looked normal. Carol returned to the room she was using. It was 3:14 AM. She examined the room from top to bottom, before she closed the door. She attempted to mover the dresser against the door, but it was anchored to the floor.
Wide awake, Carol wrapped herself in a blanket and sat back against the headboard. Several times she nodded off, only to jerk to wakefulness. At 3:29 AM the piano music began again. Carol took up the meat hammer, and turned on the Maglite. The music emanating from the piano was a Brahm's lullaby. Over and over it played, until Carol finally left the bed and cracked open the door. She couldn't see the piano from her doorway, so she took the necessary steps to reach the opening to the foyer. Shaking so badly she could barely aim the flashlight, Carol played the beam over the piano keys. Like before, the piano was being played by two small severed hands. Carol took a step forward, then another. Suddenly she felt a hand grasp her ankle. She screamed and kicked out with her leg. The grip on her leg tightened. Her screams echoed through the long black corridor. She fainted.