Down in the Basement

Down in the Basement
(words 1104)

“There are monsters in our house.”

I glanced up from my romance novel, to see my little baby-sitting charge hanging over the back of the sofa with a sly smile on his 5-year-old face.

“Really?” I asked politely. What was I supposed to say?  I smiled and said in my best I’ll-go-along-with-the-joke voice, “And where might they be?”

“There’s a big one down in the basement, and if you go down there – he’s gonna eat you up!”

Here’s where I made my first mistake.  I decided that ten dollars-an-hour entitled Jimmy’s parents to a certain amount of entertainment for their son.  I figured I’d humor him since the video I’d put on in the family room obviously wasn’t doing the trick.

It was Halloween, after all, and the poor kid was stuck here while his parents went to some local party.  I got myself into character.

“Ooo!” I squeaked.  “He sounds scary!”

Jimmy giggled in delight and took off toward the basement door. 

Sighing, I put down my book – which was just getting good – and traipsed along after him, forcing myself into the spirit of the holiday.  The basement door opened into the typical dark yawning abyss that all basement doors open into.  I flicked the light switch and nothing happened.

“I know where the flashlight is.” Jimmy announced triumphantly and dashed away, returning moments later with a big square heavy-duty version.

Here comes mistake number two.  I took the flashlight, flicked it on, and went down the creaking stairs.  The basement was unfinished, unusual for our middle-class residential neighborhood.  The walls were unpainted cement and the floor was flat packed-earth.  Strange.  In addition to the normal musty smell of humidity, there was some sort of sharp sweaty odor, and an even more pungent reek. 

“He’s over there,” Jimmy piped up, pointing a helpful finger past the stairs to a pitch-black area of the cellar.

I wondered if ten dollars-an-hour was worth this.  I leaned over to him and smiled like I was a movie hero.  “Let’s get him!” I yelled valiantly and rushed over to the corner of the cellar. 

You guessed it - my third mistake.

Momentum carried me forward long after my legs had turned to jelly.  A hulking creature stood in the glare of the flashlight.  Black eyes with no whites glared at me above a grinning rictus.  Teeth the size of Manhattan jutted out from a ham-hock jaw.  Ghoulish green skin, split in places and oozing worms and beetles stretched wide as the monster opened his mouth.

Names of saints I didn’t even know started spewing out my mouth.  “Holy Mother of God!“ Apparently there’s some kind of race-memory that holds a reservoir of religious knowledge that leaps into your brain during emergencies. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!“  And I wasn’t even Catholic.

He leaped at me, grabbing with claw-like hands.  I ducked, but his nails caught in my shirt, piecing my flesh underneath, and closed around my arm.  I was dragged closer by an implacable grip.  The reek of decaying flesh snaked up my nostrils.  I retched as his face came down to mine; the maggots and white worms on his face writhed together in a macabre dance that made every part of his face seem to move independently.  The horrible black eyes bore into mine and now I could see a dark red flame glittering within them.

I twisted and felt his nails rake my arms.  I screamed and fought and kicked, but I couldn’t get free.  His mouth of snaggly, twisted teeth descended toward me.  Shocked, my legs fell out from under me and I hung limp in his grasp.  As I tried to regain my footing, hot breath tinged with sulfur expelled into my face smothering me in a filthy cloud of noxious fumes. 

Hysterical adrenaline surged and I swung the heavy flashlight at his head, striking his mottled skin.  A great swath of flesh peeled off his face uncovering white bone beneath.  One eye jarred loose and hung from strips of blood vessels and tendons, dangling onto his cheek.  The worms roiled inside his skin.

He roared, and spittle hit me in the face, burning my skin.  Enraged, he struck me a sharp blow, and knocked me to the ground.  Then his huge hand wrapped into my hair and I was jerked up into the air.  I felt my hair starting to rip out of my scalp, and I swung the flashlight again.  It collided with his skull with a sickly crack.  Chips of bone flew into the air.  Brown viscous liquid ran from the wound down the side of his face.  Worms loosened from their grip, slipped off of his face and peppered his black funereal shroud where they wiggled around trying to burrow through the material and back into flesh.  I swung again, and connected with his jaw.  White piano-key teeth ripped free of his jaw and sprayed through the air leaving black gaping holes.

He whined a subhuman cry of pain and anger.  He drew me into a horrible mockery of an embrace.  Under his ebony shroud, his body felt soft and wet.  I pushed off of his chest and my feet scrabbled at the ground under me, seeking purchase.  The air around me smelled like a fetid swamp.  I could barely breathe.  One of his hands was still buried in my hair, he grabbed my throat with the other, squeezing out what little breath I had.  He drew me toward him and with his few remaining teeth, he snapped repeatedly at my face, as I threw my head from side to side.

Horror fueled my last awkward attempt to stop the onslaught of gnashing teeth.  I swung as hard as I could, smashing him with the flashlight, denting his skull and knocking the other eye out of its socket.  I rained blows on his ugly deformed head, desperate to keep him from shredding me with his teeth. 

I hit again and again, wildly striking any part of him.  The muscles of his jaw hung exposed and soon his entire lower jaw was whacked off.  I was screaming like a banshee and my terror gave me the strength to keep battering him. 

I’m not even sure when he collapsed on the ground and stopped moving.  I just kept smashing and then stomping the remains until he was little more than a disgusting puddle of pulp.

My breath sobbed out my throat and echoed in the silent basement. 

“Cool!”  Jimmy said. 

I’d forgotten he was there. 

He grinned and said in a conspiratorial voice, “You should see the one that’s in the attic!”