Tip:
Highlight text to annotate it
X
My house was on fire. I passed out in my closet. Unsurprisingly, my house was gone. But there
was an odd feature that none of the other houses had. There was a staircase off to the
side of where my house was that led down to a basement I didn't know we had.
The 11 years I was there, I never saw this staircase. My dad didn't do anything to the
house in the year I spent with him, and nothing would motivate him to build an entire basement.
He was a very hands-on guy, I'll give him that. If a job needed doing, he'd do it himself.
But after my mother went, he just sat around and moped. They used to send carers round
to see him.
He didn't even cook himself anything. I pulled up and got out by the staircase. There was
an old wooden door at the bottom. Made of cheap picnic table wood, you know the kind.
An intimidating padlock hung above the handle, but if I just pulled I knew it would come
off. With no roof over, the door had become moldy and useless. So that's exactly what
I did.
The door rattled as I yanked the lock off. It opened enough for a belch of cold, dead
air to pour out. I leant back as if it smelt like tuna, but it really smelt like an old
loft. The dust was unbelievable, I'm glad I remembered to bring my inhaler. My frightened
fingers folded around the rusty door handle, and with a little tug, it opened fully. I
don't know what I was expecting, but it was completely pitch black. I had a torch in the
car, so I left the door open as I headed up to get it. I slipped the padlock in to my
pocket. The torch was under the passenger seat, because it had rolled under there just
to inconvenience me.
While I was scraping towards the handle of it, something caught my eye. From the hole
in the floor that led to the basement, I swear to God some of the darkness escaped. This
figure swooped up and over the hole, but as my eyes focused, there was nothing there.
I stood staring for a while, blinked harshly a couple times, and then reached back under
for the torch.
I exclaimed "Yes!" as I managed to grasp it, and then looked around to see if anyone had
heard me. I waved the torch next to my head with an embarrassed smile on my head, as if
someone was watching me. I kicked the car door shut, and proceeded down the stairs.
With a slight click, the basement became illuminated. It was grey, damp, and very cramped. The walls
looked like they'd been carved out with a spoon. It seemed more of a cavern than a basement.
I scanned the walls with the beam of light, and came across something that really chilled
me. There was a second door to my left, painted black, but in big, bold, blood-red letters
read "HOME". The closer I got to the door, the louder I could hear the crackle from the
tape.
I slowly placed my ear right in the middle of the O. There was a light sobbing behind
the noise. I shuddered. I shook my head and turned to leave, after I realized I was about
to be sick. I really didn't want to know what was in that room. But as I turned to head
up the stairs, the darkness came back. I only caught a glimpse of it, but I know I saw it.
It was standing between me and the stairs. And it slammed the picnic table door shut.
"No!" I screamed as I collided with the door.
I stood there punching the wood, sticking splinters in my hands as I did so, until I
realized I was heavily crying. I slid down the back of the door and wept.
"Come ... home ... son" ran through my head when I looked at the door. The static was
louder with the door shut. I rolled my head from looking at the roof to look at the door,
and realized it was slightly open. As I leaned forward in horror, it slammed shut. I could
feel my heart beating in my throat. "What do you want with me?" I managed to choke out.
"Please come home." emerged from behind the door.
"Why? Who are you?" I spat back.
"Your father misses you."
"My dad's dead, you insensitive ***."
"Please come home."
"Are they the only *** words you can say? Who the *** are you?" I could hear the anger
pouring out of me.
"Your father misses you." I stood up and marched over to the door. It's a funny thing, adrenaline.
My hand slammed down on the door handle, but before I could turn it, the door swung open
on me.
I can't remember what happened after that. I think back as hard as I can, but I can never
see it. The door knocked me back, and that's it. Just darkness after that. I must have
been down there for a while though, my girlfriend eventually got worried about me and she called
the police. She told them I'd come to this town to see my father, and they saw my car
on the way to what used to be the cemetery. I read that the police found the basement
padlocked from the outside.
The doctors say I'll always have the three scars on my chest, and that my mind probably
blocked out what happened because of stress or shock. I don't ever listen to the tape
anymore. But sometimes, when I'm lying in bed, I can hear the static. And one time,
I swear I heard a voice, as clear as day. You know what it said?
"Welcome home."