In your early teens, when you didn't yet have your own room, your parents were thinking about moving into a new apartment, they found a house that seemed to meet all their needs. However, as soon as you moved in, a strange, stuffy smell hung in the air, similar to rotting people and their organs inside, especially noticeable on the top floor next to your room. From time to time there were traces of blood on the floor. The person who sold you the apartment was a suspicious figure in itself. His aura radiated menace, sending goosebumps down your spine. It seemed that he knew nothing about this house, although he was clearly selling it for profit. When you tried to share your concerns with your parents, they dismissed your words as a childish fantasy. The old man seemed quite normal to them, and not an eccentric owner who stumbled upon the house and decided to sell it at any cost, despite the fact that there was a murder in it, which he hid from your family, but you found information about this in documents in the attic, which on moving day you discovered, and with a lot of old boxes. Instead of unpacking your things, you began to explore them. In one of the boxes you found music box decorated with fancy patterns in the form of clowns. It was clearly old, its paint was peeling, and it gave off a disgusting smell of rotten meat. You started turning the knob while playing "Pop Goes the Weasel."