The Basement

Father and son murder team.

The basement in the Woodworth House was dingy, dark and reeked of old mildew. There was nothing in it except for two chains connected to the dirt floor and a big kennel even though there had never been a dog at the residence. The Woodworth House had been built by Howard Woodworth in 1659 and had never been through repairs since. It had approximately 2 bedrooms,1 bathroom, a kitchen and a small living space.

The year is now 1925 and a man and his son have been living in the Woodworth House for about 2 years. The man was a farmer named Charles Fauser: a big, burly 47-year-old man who never smiled. His son, Arnold Fauser, was 15 and thin, but strong. Mrs. Fauser had died 5 years prior from a bout of illness. Mr. Fauser had decided this house would be his new beginning to try and rid himself of his grief.

A week into moving in, he began to grow crops in the backyard. He hasn't stopped working since. Arnold spent his days lying about, mostly reading old western dime novels about cowboys and Indians. Arnold had been told by his father to never go into the basement because it was too dangerous and Arnold wasn't curious about the basement, so he never broke this rule. However, on one hot, sunny day in July, Arnold was making his breakfast when he heard soft whimpering coming from somewhere not too far from him. He had tried to dismiss is as some animal, but they didn't own any animals and they had no neighbors for miles. He went closer to the sound, the whimpering growing louder and even progressing to a bark almost. As he walked closer, he realized the sound was coming from the e basement. He placed his ear against the door and strained himself. His hand hit the doorknob and he grasped it. He had just began to turn it when a hand slapped on his shoulder.

Arnold turned around slowly and realized it was his father.

"Hello, father" he said tentatively.

"What did I tell you about the basement?" Mr. Fauser barked.

Arnold hesitated for a minute then said, "To not go into it?"

"Exactly. Don't even acknowledge it."

At this, Mr. Fauser ripped Arnold away from the door and stood in front of it. Arnold got the message and walked the direction towards his room.

That night as Arnold was laying on his bed, his mind veered to the basement. It was just a basement, so what is dad hiding?, Arnold thought. His window rattled vigorously and his curtains danced in the wind. He eventually drifted off, his mind thinking of the basement.

The next day, Arnold woke up early, trying to rid himself of his sleep. He could already hear his father chopping the weeds outside and groaned. Arnold then realized this was his chance of getting into the basement. He knew his father would be out there for hours as their farm was big and there had been a lot of weeds growing recently. Arnold threw on his clothes and walked quietly over to the basement. He put his ear against the door, trying to hear some whimpering again, but he only heard silence. He grabbed the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

Arnold fought back the urge to cough as dust flew everywhere. The narrow, wooden stairs leading down to the basement were crooked and looked like they would break at anytime. Nevertheless, Arnold quietly stepped on each stair until he reached the dirt floor at the bottom.

Arnold looked around nervously until his eyes hit the chains on the floor and what they were attached to. His eyes went wide and his breathing became more shallow and labored. There was a woman. She was naked and bleeding at her stomach and the top of her head. She was laying on the ground, seemingly unconscious. The chains dug deep into her wrists, leaving dark purple and black bruises. She seemed sweaty and her hair was a tangled mess. A black fabric was shoved into her mouth.

Arnold gathered courage and walked closer to the woman. He leaned over her limp body and got closer to her face. At this moment, the woman's eyes shot open and she started whimpering and screaming, but they were both muffled by the fabric. Arnold shot back and landed on his backside. The woman struggled and jiggled the chains. Snapping back to reality, Arnold walked over to her cautiously and ripped the gag out of her mouth.

"What are you doing in my basement?" Arnold's voice sound childish and soft.

The woman gagged and coughed loudly then said, "Help me! Some crazy guy kidnapped me then stuck me down here two weeks ago! Get help now!"

"What? What are you talking about? Only me and my dad live up here," Arnold said this with his eyebrow raised.

"Well someone did! Get help now!" the woman was screaming in his face now.

A deep voice boomed from behind them, "I told you to stay away from the basement, Arnold."

Arnold whipped his head around and saw his father, dirt covering his large hands and a hoe he still hadn't put down. Arnold stammered, but his father cut him off.

"You were bound to find out anyway. Arnold, this is what I do: take women and save them."

At everything, the woman had been silent, but now she spoke again, "You're crazy! Let me go!"

Mr. Fauser grabbed the fabric off the floor and shoved it back in the woman's mouth. He then kicked her so hard in the face Arnold thought he had broken her neck.

Arnold spoke, "Ho-How is this saving them?"

"Good question. Well, this women are all devils and I'm setting their souls free, so God can take them."

Arnold was speechless and his mouth hung open.

Mr. Fauser looked more angry then usual now and barked, "You're not going to tell on me, right?"

Arnold shook his head furiously back and forth.

"Good boy. Now let's go upstairs so we can talk." Mr. Fauser headed up the stairs.

Arnold followed him. Mr. Fauser and Arnold sat at their kitchen table and for the first time ever, Arnold saw his father grin. His father scattered papers from a wooden box all over the table. They were newspaper clippings of missing women.

"Look how many souls I've freed," Mr. Fauser stabbed the papers with his bony finger. "Welcome to the new family business."