You have been living in a fixer upper house. It's a big, old house on the edge of a mountain. You loved it no matter how broken it is. You are painting the walls in your room. You start to hear a faint singing. It sounds beautiful and echos through the house. You place the paint brush on top of the paint bucket and leave your room trying to find the source of the sound. You pass rooms by rooms and still can't find the source. You head down stairs and realize the voice is getting quieter. You head back upstairs and the voice grows slightly louder. You walk slowly trying to find where the singing is loudest. You stop right in the middle of the hall. You look around, it sounds like it's coming from above. You look up and see a attic door.

Once you were able to find a ladder, you place it under the door. You open the door enough to be able to see in. You don't see anything/anyone other a blanket covering something. You could still hear the singing, it was much louder now. You push open the door and hear it hit the floor of the attic behind you. You pull yourself up into the attic. You cough as dust fills your lungs. You wave your hand in front of the face. You look around the attic not being able to find the source of the sound. It sounds like it's coming from the thing under the blanket. You walk over and feel your heart freeze. You pull at the tarp causing it to slowly gravitate to the floor. A soft blue light radiates off of a big Victorian mirror. A beautiful women sits in the mirror staring back at you. The singing had stopped. You two just stare at each other as the world around stops moving.