*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1203445-DOWNSTAIRS
Rated: E · Short Story · Ghost · #1203445
What's really happening beneath this house?

'I'm not going down there,' I said shaking my head. 'Do you think I'm stupid?'

Donna shrugged and peered over my shoulder into the dark void of the cellar below. 'It's a bit on the dark side isn't it.'

'I've seen horror films, and this is exactly the thing to not do in this situation.'

I felt Donna grip onto the sleeve of my coat. 'Well, if we're going to buy this place, we have to look at what's under it. There could be anything down there.'

I turned to her. 'That's kinda my point.'

'Wimp.'

I sucked in a deep breath and coughed as the musty dust scraped at the back of my throat. I really didn't want to go down there. Not because I was a wimp, but because every natural sense within me was telling me so. Donna nudged me in the back and giggled in my ear. 'I'll hold your hand.' She whispered. 'A quick look and then we can get to the restaurant for your birthday dinner.'

Flicking the switch on my torch I aimed the beam into the pit. Dust fairies danced around the light, spiralling, almost hypnotic as they skipped up and down the stairs. I was sure that they were laughing at me too. Scaredy cat, scaredy cat.... The light pierced the first three feet and then stopped suddenly, like it had hit a wall so dark that the room below was swallowing it whole. Chomp.

'Maybe you should stay here,' I said to Donna and she gripped my sleeve tighter.

'No chance. I want to see, I want to see.' She pouted her lips and put on her sulking face.

'Well, it's your-' I stopped. 'Did you hear that?'

Donna frowned. 'Hear what?'

'It was a scuffling sound.'

'Ooooh, like a rat. Gross.' She shivered.

'Possibly,' I said, but that wasn't what my mind had pictured. It sounded much larger than a rat. It was brief, sudden, but heavier than a rat, more like a footfall.

'Maybe it's a ghost?' She put her free hand over her mouth and giggled again, only this time she was more nervous. I took her hand and kissed it. I wasn't making things easier.

'It's not a ghost, it's not a rat, it's just old noises from an old house.' I ran the light over the walls and watched as the slight touch of the light caused it to flake like old sores from dead feet. I took a deep breath, accustomed myself to the wooden stairs and stepped through the door.

My skin pricked and I stopped for a moment. Donna released my hand so I took another step down, then another, then another...

With each move the darkness swirled, the torch still unable to push any further in front, straining to make any impact, almost dulled by the darkness. Behind me the stairs accepted Donna's weight and two steps later I was on solid ground. I paused, waiting for my eyes to adjust, but nothing. There was nothing to adjust to. Just darkness, no sounds, no smells, no light. My hand was shaking and the light hummed into the middle of the room.

I reached behind for Donna and turned to her. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing. No scream, no sound, no Donna.

I could see her silouette painted against the almost ridiculous brightness of the day beyond, and tried to move my legs. My left foot dragged across the grit dusting the floor, it was as though it was tugging at my feet. The momentum snapped my shin onto the upper edge of the stair and again I cried out.

My heart made a run for my throat, ceasing to beat for a second, just as a slam filled the room. The door upstairs became as dark as the rest of my surroundings and in shock the torch lept from my hand and crashed to the floor. It bounced, spun, the light piroutting, enjoying its freedom.

Then it went out.

For a second my ears did my breathing. The hair on my arms stiffened so much that I was sure they would snap if touched. My throat was sore, my eyes throbbing as they did everything they could to focus, I screamed, 'Donna.' But the sound was muted. It was there, I could hear it as the air twanged at my vocal chords, but it was smothered, like screaming under water or from beneath a duvet.

I did it again anyway. 'Donna.'

I swivelled, still unable to move my feet from the floor. My ears strained to hear something, anything. A cold tear wetted my eye and my stomach cramped like I was pregnant with a wild buffallo. There was somone else with me. Those insticts that were passed down from the beginning of time, the ones we no longer use as we hunt for our food in McDonalds and get our warmth from gas. The instincts that only come back in the dark. They were telling me the truth. I was not alone.

'Who's there?' I asked, my mouth drier than a worm dying in the sun.

I heard a snigger. It was faint, dusty, but there. 'I said, who's there?' I heard it again.

I started to bend my knees and without looking down, I felt around for the torch. It was gone. Using all of my strength I straigtened up, my legs so weak that I was sure that pretty soon they'd just fold like a bad poker player.

I wanted to run, I wanted out, to fly up the stairs, force the door open and grab my Donna, my girl, my-

Then I heard a definate noise. I could feel something looking at me. Then someone else, and another. I began to spin around, desperate to make out who they were, not wanting to call out again, the silence thrown back at me too much to bare. And then my eyes split. They burst, screamed in my face as light, the brightest light I'd ever seen scratched its claws across my pupils.

Yelling I covered them with my hands, terrified of what was happening to me, needing to see who or what was there, but knowing in my guts, as they churned over, that I probably would regret having the knowledge the minute that I did. My ears were then smashed with sounds, screams, yells, snapping, shouting, madness all around me.

I fell to my knees and buried my face, tears running down my face. I was going to die. I was going to be killed. I had walked into hell, strolled right in without bothering to bring the pass to get out. I was going to rot with some demon, some spirit. Oh God help me.

Then silence. Again.

Trembling I forced my hands from my eyes and ordered them to open. The light was bareable, it was actually helping me to see. People. Lots of people, all of them faces that I knew. My mate Paul. My sister Grace. Mum, Simon, Amy, Donna.

Donna.

'What the?' It was all I could say, my chest was hot with adrenalin. Blood throbbed in my toes.

'Oh baby,' She said, getting down to my level and kissing me on my sweaty forehead. 'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry?'

'It went a bit wrong.'

There was a mumbled agreement throughout the room and I forced myself back up, desperate to understand. There were at least forty people around me, all of them familiar. Behind the main group to the left was a banner. I read it, then I read it again.

Happy 30th Birthday.

I looked, pretty stupidly I'd imagine, at all the faces and returned my gaze to Donna. She smiled a faint smile and said, 'Surprise?'

I blinked again and my brain decided to catch up. 'You mean?'

She nodded. 'Sorry baby. I just wanted to surprise you and when we put our collective heads together we all discovered that at some point we've all fallen for one of your jokes, so we thought-' She gestured to my audience and her grin widened. 'Our present to you is a clean kharmic slate. But I think that perhaps we may have scared the crap out of you instead.'

'My heart has left the building.'

She laughed, and whether it was the remnance of fear, relief or anger, I started to laugh too.

'I could hit you in the teeth.' I said and this time Donna erupted, as did the rest of the room. There was a pat on my shouder, and a kiss on my cheek, and before I could contain myself, there was a beer in my hand and a chorus of 'Happy Birthday' bounced of the walls.

A flash blinded me again for a second and my life followed it. Joke after joke, catching people out, my family, my friends. I bellowed a laugh and kised Donna as hard as I could and a stereo revved its engines.

'You got me good girl.' I shouted over the music. 'Done like a kipper in a microwave.'

She punched the air and kissed me. 'Just raising the bar a bit darling. Happy birthday.'

And considering that I hadn't been murdered or died of a premature heart-attack, I decided that it was.

The End
© Copyright 2007 Chameuk (davis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1203445-DOWNSTAIRS