The Object Of My Affection [2025]

When he looked up, the shop was silent. The music box sat on the workbench, once again a simple, closed cube of dark wood. No seams. No keyhole. No groove.

The room went cold. The shadows in the corners of the workshop lengthened, stretching toward the workbench. Elias tried to pull his hand away, but his thumb was stuck in the groove. The hum he’d felt before was now a roar, a psychic static that filled his skull. The Object of My Affection

As the mechanism turned, the music began. It wasn't a tinny lullaby. It sounded like a cello played in a cathedral—deep, resonant, and impossibly clear. When he looked up, the shop was silent