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My name is Dr. Otto Matarov. I live in a quite lovely home in France. However, I wasn't born in this country. As you might be able to tell by the name, I was born and partially raised in Ukraine. I moved to France when I was 32.

What kind of doctor am I? Well, I'm an animal psychologist. I work with animals by trying to make them understand humans. It's very hard to understand.

I have another big interest though. I love collecting instruments and instrumental things. Especially the antiques. I have over a hundred instruments in my home. Most in the attic. Anyway, let's begin with my story.

It was one languid day. I got interested in buying some music. So I started my way to the music museum. When I got there, there were many things for sale, and a lot of people looking for something they might be interested in, including me.

I noticed that this day was pretty crowded with buyers and dealers, so I decided to go to the less populated area of the museum. I walked my way down to a darker part of the place, at least I thought it was darker. Until I found a man that seemed to be anxious for buyers. Before I walked up to him, I spotted a big chest, probably filled with divine and rare instruments. I hurried over to him to ask what was for sale.

As I approached him, he said in a coerce voice, "You want this box?"

I got a little confused on why he was so harsh, but I politely said, "Yes sir, I would love to have it. Whats inside, if I may ask?"

"It's just things," he said.

"What kind of things?" I asked.

"Just music things."

"Any antiques?" I asked.

"Yes sir, very historic items," he replied.

I got very excited and asked for the price right away. It was only €200, which was quite cheap for antique instruments.

When I got to my house, I took the large chest into my home and immediately opened it. I found a few violins, a guitar, a bunch of instrumental gear and two trumpets. I guess it was alright.

After I took the instruments to the attic and was about to leave to go to bed. I wanted to take one last look inside the large box. I opened it and admired the things I purchased. I waved my hand into the bottom to find any more instrumental gear. until I felt something strange and square-like. I picked it out of the chest to find a completely black music box. I was amazed that I found it, and I immediately wanted to open it to hear what composer it was. Before I opened it, I saw in the back of it saying "The Izan Club". I'd never heard of that song before.

I opened it up and saw all the great machinery that was inside. I then winded it up to make the music go. It sounded pretty and soothing. I had no idea who made this tune, but it was so relaxing.

I felt so sleepy listening to it, that I dropped down and fell right asleep. But the dreams. Oh how terrible the dreams were after I listened to the music! I was sitting in a room, on a gurney. These men with black and red robes appeared to me with needles, about to inject something into my flesh. I wanted to wake up but I couldn't. I felt trapped. I was trapped.

The next dream was even worse. Kids were happily playing in a playground, when the men with black and red robes suddenly appeared. They took out ropes and hung the children! But the children weren't struggling. They still looked happy, as if they wanted to die!

I woke up on the attic floor. I felt sick, not only from the dreams, but I felt sickness from inside me. I went down to my bedroom to rest. I was so sweaty and exhausted for some reason. I laid there for a long while, thinking about the dreams. Then, I heard a quiet trinking noise. I realized that the music box was still playing somehow. Before I could do something, I fell asleep. I tried to stay awake as long as I could. I even tried moving my body, but my limbs felt numb. I couldn't do anything!

And then the dreams. No, these weren't dreams. They were visions! They were even worse than the last ones! I'm crying right now just thinking about them!

The men in the black and red robes took a dead man and sliced his hand. All the blood dripped into a baby's bottle. They then pointed at me and beckoned me over to them. I walked over and they gave me the bottle with the blood in it. They pointed at a baby in a crib. The baby was crying. They told me to feed the baby the blood. They forced me to do it! I then gave the baby the bottle of blood. The baby suckled on it, but it kept crying.

Today I don't have the black music box that says "The Izan Club." I went far away and threw it in a river. But just because it's gone does not help my discomfort. Actually, the reason it is gone still reminds me of the dreams, and the song of the strange events of the mysterious music box.

Original story by Snazzell