Carol awoke with a start. As she tried to rise, she discovered her arms and legs were tied. The rain had stopped and the moon  cast a weak sliver of light through the grimy windows. Carol was under something, a table, she thought. No. She was under the piano, and tied to it's legs.

Straining every muscle she pulled against her restraints. Then she felt it, a hand was moving up her leg. She screamed, and bucked against the invader, but the hand was moving up her leg under her slacks. Then another hand covered her mouth, a hand that was cold and damp. She violently shook her head from side to side, but the hand refused to be dislodged, then another hand on her other ankle moving up her leg, and yet another hand unbuttoning her blouse.

Carol felt she was losing her grip on sanity. The hands were now all over her, inside and outside of her clothing, feeling and caressing her. But there was nothing or no one attached to the hands. In sheer terror, Carol lost consciousness. 

Carol opened her eyes. For the first time tonight she felt warm, like an electric blanket was covering her. Mustering her strength, she jerked her arms and legs, against the ropes. Suddenly, what she though was a blanket begun to move, they were the hands, and they covered her entire body. The tiny hands moved like spiders She screamed, and screamed and screamed. The screams echoing throughout the empty house of horrors.

The piano began to play the Brahms lullaby. Carol, naked, and tied to the legs of the piano started to laugh. Her laughter was so much worse than her screams, that pigeons roosting on the roof took flight.

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Author guidance for This story

I don't know where this story is going. I'm just letting Carol tell it.... while she's alive.

updated Feb 13 '09 by WyattAapr