Someone’s In the Cellar
The walls were cloaked in the dark shades of night. Small hints of moonlight peeked behind exposed curtains sheers. Dim glow of flames twirled round a wax ballroom floor. The thunderous ticking of a bird clock rested on floral prints. In the eerie quiet of the house, a faint fumble was heard from the floor. The rustling sent subtle chills racing up her frozen figure. Desolate for any sign of life for many minutes. Her ears however perked to the muffled movements down below.
‘What could that possibly be?’
`No one else is going to be home for hours.’
She slunk down the hall, taking silent steps towards the cellar door. Creaking followed from behind her on the dingy carpet. Hollow breath bled into her ears, banging along to the sound of her heartbeat. Beat, beat, beat inside her chest as the door was in view. Stalking splintered wood frames, parallelled to the chipped walls. Finally she was faced in front of the aged and weathered door. It’s corroded handle, dulled in a thick blanket of dust. It’s mystery taunted her, while pondering to confront the noise. In a tremble she called to the empty space below.
“Is there someone in the cellar?” retracting back from behind the frame.
‘What do you expect an actual answer?’ She chided herself for such a stupid thought.
The light switch gave no response when she had flipped it
‘Huh, maybe the power is out?’ but as she gave it further thought the phone in her hand had bars of strong connection.
‘ Well this house is old and broken, it may just be the wiring.’ reasoning with herself. Persisting down the stairs, the slabs of frozen cement meet her bare soles. With only the shallow beam cast from her phone, scanning the webs of silk that hung from exposed ceiling beams. Sleuthing to the open cracks settled in stone walls. Curling around the poles,to greet the ominous space.
‘ I don't remember this place seeming so scary in the day.’ gaping at the vast ocean of black, she furthered to the hatchway door. The golden handle still with it’s lock facing right to the sky. However when she turned her head to the shag carpet, it’s traces of dust and dirt moved. Wall of soot, pushed back in an acute angle. Making a move to inspect, a harsh shrill of wind paraylzed her. Sharp chills waltzing around her frigid form. Raw bittered fingers blooming stone blues, in frozen lungs breathing out iced clouds. The clattering rang to numb ears, she turned to see the window rattled against the rage of the winter storm, it’s latch leaned away from the glass.
‘Since when have those not been locked?’ She questioned the vacant room. The sense of rhythm matched her gasp, and leering eyes shadowed behind an unaware gaze. The doors wailed along to the howling winds, and shuddered against the hollow walls. The clanging of brass knobs knocked to the tune of a single swirling light confined to the corner. It's a burning bulb dissipating the shadows. In the further part of the floor plan. Flickering life on and off, trapped in a continual cycle swinging to invisible circles. Set behind towers of miscellaneous items, stackd in boxes and bins. Low strachtes on the cold floors filled her ears. Rustling and rushing of small bodies, hurried from tower to tower. All she could see were the flashes of beading faces, and hushes noises. Starling scenes spiraling inside her mind. Standing silent, disoriented and dazed in the basement.
‘I can't see. What is it?’ ‘What is that, what is that?’ Twisting on the floor, she cried out in desperation, “Is someone here, please don't hurt me.” with tears clouding her sight. Small wrappers littered the ground, chocolate bar chunks solidified in the cobwebbed cracks. She raised her head in a small sob, seeing little tails wedged underneath cardboard. Regaining the escaped breaths, she lets out a relieved sigh.
‘Rats, they were just rats,’ She observed as they scurried to another side of the room. She noticed them following each other to the bathroom. Walking closer, a putrid smell invaded her nostrils, its stench of death tickling her skin and hair. The scent was so repulsive to the point that she had to cover her head in scarves. The rats’ scratches grew frantic and agonzied as they came to the odor behind a cabinet door. Opening the door, her curiosity controlling her movement, she was met with the most revolting image. The carcass of a half eaten raccoon rotted, its blood painting the wood to mahogany. Flies consumed the already purified flesh.
‘ What the hell is in my house?’ Gagging down the arising vomit, she began to call her mother.
‘ Something really messed up is happening, and I need to leave.’ Turning up the stairs,
her fingers quivered over the call button, until a crash came from behind her breaking the cruel silence. She shrieked as she staggered up the stairs, tripping over step and slipping on loose carpet. Fear raced in her heart.
‘No, no, no, no.’ she sobbed until the top step was in her vision.
Past the threshold, a numbness filled her from the toes to teeth piercing her body as she stood with her back to the top of the cement staircase. Her eyes stared down into the endless black void, twisting in illusions of it’s negative space. Her brain saw imaginary shapes moving in darkness.
A cool breeze danced its way up the back of her neck, cold air caressing the tips of tinted ears. Pins and needles punctured every crevice on her spine. A smooth voice spoke slowly, dragging along each syllable.
“There’s someone in the cellar.”