There’s something in my basement. I’m sixteen years old, and as long as I can remember there’s been something in my basement. Every day before school my mother would give me a plate of raw chicken (or whatever raw meat we had on hand) and tell me to walk down the stairs to the basement, open the door and set the plate down…then slam the door and run back upstairs.
I honestly always figured we had a dog or something, but I never understood why I wasnt allowed to play with it. Whenever my friends would talk about their household pets they never said anything about locking them in a basement.
Well, every day when I get up, I put a plate of raw meat in my basement for whatever it is that’s down there. And before you tell me to just ask my parents, I already have. Here’s an example of how those conversations go:
“Sooo…mom, what exactly am I feeding every morning?”
“You really shouldn’t worry about it.”
“But mom, if it’s a dog or something…Why can’t I know? All I do is feed it, can’t I know what it is I’m feeding?”
“Please stop, I can’t tell you…Just promise me you’ll never go down there and you’ll never turn on the lights. Please, I’m doing this to keep us safe.”
I’ve never heard such fear and desperation in my mother’s voice before. She sounded so scared, it made my heart pound against my ribs. I felt sick. What the hell is down there?!
I’ve decided I’m going to check. My parents are out of town for the week, so there’s nobody here to stop me. I have a kitchen knife to my side just in case.
I step down the stairs slowly, listening to them creak as I make my way down. I reach for the door knob.
I slowly open the door and stare into the pitch black room.
Nothing.
Nothing? That can’t be right.
My eyes adjust a bit to the darkness, and I see something. A dog? It almost looks like it could be…
But my hopes were quickly crushed as it stood up, it’s head scraping against the ceiling. It was breathing heavily, like it hadn’t seen a human being in years. Surely it hadn’t. The knife I had in my hand fell to the floor, I was shaking too hard to keep any grip on it. And as it made it’s way closer I could see that it’s skin was rotting and peeling off it’s arms and legs.
I didn’t wanna stay to see the rest, so I bolted up the stairs and out the door, running to my neighbors house. I pounded on the door but I got no answer. I checked under the rug and in their plant for a key, but I didn’t find one.
“You okay, kid?”
I jumped and turned around to see my neighbor, he must’ve just pulled up.
“Please let me in, please…My parents aren’t home and I’m scared.”
He laughed and unlocked his door.
“Of course, you can come in and stay for dinner! But kid, I think you should run home and do something first.”
“Do what?…”
“Lock him back in your basement. Or else he’s gonna let all the others out too, and I was just getting used to the light..”