The Man with the Music Box
Jordan had had the song stuck in his head all week. He couldn't focus on anything; he hadn't even turned in his last three homework assignments. Another one of his headaches was just beginning to set in when he got a call from his girlfriend.
She said: "Are we still going to the fair tonight?"
"I have a nasty headache, but if you still want to go, that's fine," replied Jordan.
"I still want to go; I'm sorry about your headache, though. Is it because of that song? Is it still stuck in your head?"
"Yeah, but I'm fine. I'll be by your house to pick you up at around seven."
"Alright, see you then. Bye."
"I'll see you then, Riss. Bye."
Jordan Hung up the phone. He did not feel inclined to go to a noisy fair when his head hurt this badly, but Marissa's birthday was tomorrow; the last Saturday of the month. The fair would probably be packed on a Friday night, anyway. Maybe she would see the lines and want to leave, and he could take her out again sometime when his head didn't feel as if it was about to explode. He decided to take a nap for the few hours left before he took Marissa to the fair.
Two and a half hours later, Jordan awoke with a start. He had dreamt that a funny little bald man with a music box was standing next to his bed, playing the song that was stuck in his head. He covered his head with his pillow, but the more he tried not to listen, the louder and faster the music became until it was piercing his ears painfully. He looked up expecting to see the music man's crooked smile; but all he saw was his room, and his alarm clock next to his bed. It read 6:27. "Good," he thought, "just in time to go pick up Marissa."
Half an hour later, he was in his car with Marissa, almost to the fair. The song was still stuck in his head. He turned on the radio in a feeble attempt to drown it out. Marissa looked at him, concerned. "Is that song still stuck in your head?" said she.
"Yes, unfortunately," Jordan replied.
"You've had it stuck in your head all week. What song is it?"
"I can't remember where it's from. It's like I heard it in a dream; or long ago." He thought of the bald music man in his recent dream, and shivered.
"Well, maybe the carnival will put it off your mind," said Marissa.
"I hope so," he said, and pretended to cheer up. He didn't want to ruin their time together by acting like a drama queen.
When they reached the fair, there were hardly any cars parked there. "Funny," he said. "On a Friday night it should be packed."
"It is odd," said Marissa, "but that means that all the lines will be short!
They walked up to the ticket booth, and asked the man behind the counter for two evening passes. As they paid for the tickets, Jordan noticed a music box in the back of the ticket booth. A music box just like the one he remembered from his dream. He thought it odd, but said nothing. As they walked into the carnival, the man in the booth poked his head around the corner and gave him a wicked little smile; his face looked exactly like the face of the man in Jordan's dream.
"Did you see that?" said Jordan, surprised and slightly afraid.
"See what?" replied Marissa.
Deciding that it was only his imagination, Jordan dropped the matter. "Oh, nothing," he said, "I just thought that man made a funny face at us as we walked away."
The night was dark and cloudy, but the carnival lights were bright. As the lack of parked cars had foretold, the fair was almost empty. Only the people who ran the booths and rides were there, and they hid their faces and said nothing. After riding a few rides, they came upon an old carousel. The song was running through Jordan's head faster and louder than ever. All the lights were off on the carousel, and it looked like it hadn't run in years. Marissa said: "I haven't ridden a carousel in forever! Let's go check out that one."
"I don't know," said Jordan, his voice shaking slightly as the music in his head seemed to become stronger and stronger. "It doesn't look like it's running. Maybe it's out of order."
"Well, at the very least we can go and sit on the horses. Come on, why not?"
Jordan wanted to say: "Because it gives me the creeps, and the closer we get to it, the louder and faster the music in my head becomes!" but instead, he said nothing. They approached the carousel, and, seeing that no one was there to run the ride, they climbed onto the horses, just to sit there and look out at the rest of the carnival. When they were both seated, the carousel started to move, and the lights came on. Marissa was delighted.
"Look! It is running. What a treat!" she said.
"But who is running it?" said Jordan skeptically.
"It looks like it's that funny little bald man over there," Marissa said as she pointed. Jordan looked, and to his horror, the man from his dream was at the controls of the old carousel, moving them with one hand, and turning the crank on his music box with the other. He grinned evilly at Jordan, and the ride began to move faster.
The song that was stuck in Jordan's head was playing. At first he thought it was just in his head, but he soon realized that it was the music of the carousel. The song grew louder and faster as the carousel went faster and faster. Marissa was laughing. "I remember this song!" she said, as the carousel spun faster and faster. "It's the Song of Storms, from that Zelda game we used to play as kids!" As she said these words, the dark and cloudy sky burst into lightening and thunder; rain began to pour from it.
Jordan couldn't think. His mind was filled with the song. Marissa was no longer laughing. "The carousel is spinning far too fast!" he heard her screaming.
"The windmill is spinning far too fast!" he heard himself screaming.
Marissa and Jordan were thrown from the carousel. Jordan looked up through the blood and rainwater on his face. He saw the man from his dream standing above him, laughing. His vision went black.
Jordan woke up. It was no longer raining. The carnival had disappeared. The man from his dream had disappeared. He was bruised and covered in blood. Marissa lay next to him, wounded in similar fashion, with her neck cocked at an odd angle. The song was no longer stuck in his head, but a new one, perhaps more sinister than the last, had taken its place. Jordan looked up. A strange man was leaning over him, a man who hadn't been there a moment before. He had red hair, squinted eyes, and a grin that spread from ear to ear on his face. He was wearing a large back pack which was covered with all kinds of masks.
"You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"