I Came Back to Make the Music Box Kill You

The moment before I hit the concrete, I saw Fleur Lane standing at the edge of the rooftop.

She was holding that damn music box, a smile curled on her lips.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on my dorm bed. Sunlight stabbed through the window, and the familiar clatter of typing filled my ears.

“You’re awake?” Fleur’s voice came from across the room. “Perfect timing, I just picked up something good.”

I shot upright, heart pounding, fingers clenched tight in the bedsheet.

I was back. Back to the day she brought the music box.

Fleur pulled a faded wooden box from her bag, its red paint chipped, the brass lock rusted.

She wound it eagerly, and a familiar melody flowed through the dorm.

“Für Elise.” But something about the tune was off.

In my last life, it was this warped melody that killed me.

“Where did you get it?” My voice came out tight.

“Flea market,” she said casually, fiddling with the box. “The seller said it’s an old piece. I had been sitting around for years, nobody wanted it.”

I stared at the box. Last time, I had believed her, right up until the first girl jumped.

This time was different.

“Stop playing it.” I pressed a hand over the lid. “It sounds… unsettling.”

Fleur raised a brow. “Since when are you this superstitious?”

I didn’t answer. My gaze drifted to the bottom of the box, where there was a nearly invisible crack.

Last time, when the police collected evidence, they had pried it open from there and found a miniature recording device inside.

“Let me see.” I feigned curiosity and took it, my fingers brushing the cold metal spring.

The box was heavier than it looked.

Fleur suddenly reached out to snatch it back. “Careful, that’s an antique.”

Her nails scraped across the back of my hand, leaving a red mark.

Something wasn’t right.

No normal person would be this tense over a broken music box.

That night, while Fleur was in the shower, I pried open the base.

There was something hidden behind the gear assembly.

A button-sized electronic component, flickering with a faint red light.

“What are you looking for?”

Fleur’s voice came from behind, laced with amusement.

I snapped the lid shut.

She stood at the bathroom door, water dripping from her hair, her eyes dark in a way that felt wrong.

“Just curious about the mechanism.” I set the music box back on her desk. “It’s pretty intricate.”

Fleur said nothing, only smiled as she wiped her hair dry.

That smile dragged me back to my last life—when she had stood on the rooftop, looking at me the same way.

The next day, Tina Watson from the room next door came over to borrow notes.

“This music box is beautiful.” She reached out to touch it. “Can you play it for me?”

“No!” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

Tina flinched.

Fleur only smiled. “Of course.”

She wound the spring, and that eerie melody filled the room again.

Tina’s gaze slowly turned unfocused.

I grabbed a cup of water and splashed it across her face.

The music cut off instantly.

“What are you doing?” Fleur snapped.

Tina blinked, dazed, clearly having no idea what had just happened.

“She has low blood sugar.” I pressed down hard on the music box. “I’ve seen this before.”

Fleur stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly smiled. “You’ve been on edge lately.”

She took the music box back, gently running her fingers over the lid. “It’s just a music box.”

But I knew it wasn’t.

In my last life, Tina was the first to jump.

And now, the countdown had started again.