Beyond the Basement
My family’s house is old, built at least two hundred years ago. The basement of my family’s house is unfinished with plaster walls that are pealing with cracks running through them. I did not usually play down there but the downpour outside made it impossible to play outside. My older brother had already laid claim to the videogames in the family room above, so that left me with only the basement to play in. I brought my ball down and started kicking it against the far wall from the steps. I had done this a few times before, but this time something strangely different occurred. When the ball bounced back from against the wall, the wall shook slightly and resounded with a hollow smack as if it weren’t solid. Curious, I kicked the ball against that far wall again and heard the same hollow smack. Now I was beyond intrigued. I kicked the ball against the wall with all my might. This decision is one I would later regret. The ball left a crack in the wall and plaster fell from the place of impact. In the clearing dust I saw a hole in the plaster just large enough for me to crawl through, and so I did.
What I saw was a stairway leading down.
I descended the cold stone steps leading deeper down from the basement. The staircase that, until today, I didn’t know existed. The steps curved downwards such that it was not possible to see the bottom even with my flashlight. There were no light sources other than my flashlight. Each step I took seemed to draw me deeper into the darkness. For some reason, I simply had to know what was at the bottom of this staircase. I counted the steps as I went down, “one, two, three, four, five, six, sev-” at the seventh step I paused.
“What was that sound?” I wondered silently, “Could it have been my imagination?”
I held my breath and listened. It was hard to make out, but it sounded like music, possibly someone singing. The melody, from what I could hear, was filled with sadness.
As I ventured further the air became chilled and stagnant. The singing’s volume did not grow accordingly, stay just too faint to be able to make out words. I continued downwards along the curving stairway. No longer could I see the top, nor could I see the bottom. As the air grows colder I begin to see my breath form a fog in front of me as though my very soul were exiting my body.
I step down to the twenty-first step and the singing abruptly ceases. I froze. With the music’s end complete silence enveloped me, the only sounds those of my breathing and my beating heart. I waited for an eternity of a moment. Then, with bated breath I took a step forward to rest both my feet on the twenty-first step. I again waited. When nothing happened, I pressed onward ever vigilant for any sign of danger.
Suddenly, the glowing amber ring that had been my beloved companion throughout this journey blinked out. I was left in darkness. I held back a scream as the panic coursed through my veins. My heart raced. I was petrified. Darkness enveloped me on all sides, threatening to absorb my very being into its murky blackness. I fervently shook the flashlight, desperately trying to bring life back. I stood there in the complete dark. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw a faint light emanating from the bottom of the stairwell. Not wanting to remain in darkness forever and the bottom being closer than climbing back up, I pressed forward toward the light source.
Coming to what was the bottom of the stairs based on the faint light, I saw that there was a door from under which the light was seeping. I crept towards the door. Crouching on the floor I looked through the space between the door and the cold stone floor. From my vantage point on the ground I could see a small, rectangular room with what appeared to be the legs of a stool or chair in the center of my field of vision. As I stared the now eerie singing began again, still quiet but louder than before. It appeared to be in a language that I didn’t understand but sounded familiar.
Surprised by the sudden noise, I jumped to my feet, dropping my flashlight in the process. My gut wrenched as I watched it fall to the ground in slow motion. It hit the ground and the singing abruptly halted.
There was a moment of silence, but it felt to be an eternity. Then a voice spoke from behind the door.
“Hello? Who’s there? You can come in if you want,” the young girl’s voice sounded innocent. She couldn’t have been more than eleven. “If you like my singing you can come in and listen better,” the girl continued.
Not knowing what to do I silently bent down and picked up my flashlight and pressed up against the cold stone wall, trying my hardest to melt into the stone to hide.
“I am going to be having a tea party. You simply must come in and join me,” the young girl demanded with a slight poutiness present in the later statement.
Heart still beating rapidly but slightly calmed by the fact that it was just a young girl on the other side of the door and with the knowledge that I could use my flashlight as a weapon if things turned bad, I thought to myself [Why shouldn’t I just go in? It is only a young girl.]
Not wanting to be viewed as a scared child I took a step forward and opened the door.
My vision went white.
