A Question of Priorities

Write a story in the “ENGLISH GOTHIC” sub-genre - in the “VISCERAL” style - for the prompt “The only way out is through the basement.”
GOTHIC – English Gothic – The kind of horror which usually takes place in castles, convents, mansions, and crypts; dealing with the idea of the past encroaching on the present.
VISCERAL – More reality based with supernatural overtones with a tendency to be “in your face” with descriptions of the horror – though not extreme as Splatterpunk.
CLOSING DATE:
14th November 2010 at 17:00 (5pm) (WdC-time)
666 words max.

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A Question of Priorities

By Indelibleink

Fear etched deeply into the face of Sharon Edwards as she huddled with her two children in the upstairs bathroom that night. It was a full moon, so Sharon, husband Jim, and their two little girls were finding out that the seemingly tall tales regarding the existence of werewolves should never have been dismissed as folly. Now it was simply a matter of survival.

The loud rapping of the door knocker startled Sharon, and after reassuring Leslie, 4, and Becky, 2, that “Mommy will be back in 1 minute,” she made her way down the stairs of the old English castle which had been “home” all of three weeks now. Jim had talked Sharon into purchasing the castle after his transfer to England because of the “incredible investment potential” of such a property, and from day one she had regretted ever agreeing to such a choice. Ironically, as much as Sharon hated the cold, clammy feeling that came with a home that was constructed mostly of stone and mortar, she was now grateful for the protection inherent in such a structure.

“Sharon! It’s Stephen Wembley. They’re almost here! Please! They’ll rip me to shreds!” In his late fifties, Stephen was Jim’s boss and good friend, originally coming for dinner. When it had become obvious an hour earlier what was happening, Jim had tried calling Stephen with no luck. Regardless, the young, petite, thirty-something housewife was now overjoyed to hear Stephen’s voice. Her wrestling with the stubborn dead bolt paid off and she opened the door for the terrified Stephen.

“My God, Sharon, where is everyone? We’ve got to get away from those creatures.” Like the Edwards family, Stephen had only been in England for a few weeks, and he too hadn’t paid much heed to the tales and warnings from the locals.
 
After retrieving the kids, Sharon spoke quickly, jockeying each child on either hip. “The only way out is through the basement. Jim is down there now working on clearing the passageway to the old servants quarters. It exits out down near the boathouse, if we get in the boat and out on the water, we’ll make it. Come…Follow me.”

When they entered the kitchen, there was an old wooden door that was dead-bolted. “I have the kids, Stephen, so unlock the door, take a step down, and reach forward to grab the pull chain for the light. Quickly! We don’t have much time.”

Stephen did as told, but when he stepped forward to grab the light chain, he heard growling and could see the image of a wolf-like creature at the base of the steps. He turned to warn Sharon but instead was shocked by a kick to the chest from Sharon’s shoe. The look of bewilderment never left Stephen’s face as he fell back and slid down the stairs. At least, not until the stunned man felt the razor-sharp teeth of a werewolf tear into his shoulder, working its way to his neck.

“Close your eyes and cover your ears, girls. We have to hurry!” Sharon, who had set the girls down and around the corner so as not to witness what would become of Stephen, did as their mommy told them. She again picked them up and went down the steps as fast as possible, knowing her husband would be after them seconds after Stephen’s tortured screams were no more.  She reached the passageway and bolted the door behind her, just seconds before her husband was tearing into the old wood. Tears filled her eyes as she yelled back to, presumably, Stephen’s spirit.

“I’m so sorry, Stephen. You have to understand. When Jim first began transforming, he started clearing an escape route for us. And then, after he was done he would go outside and we would lock him out. We thought we had more time, but we didn’t. So I had to lock him in down in the basement. Now, I needed a decoy, Stephen. I had to save my babies!…”

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Words: 666