So, here's what we have. Nearly 2300 words of a premise. We have a plethora of characters to choose from, a plot, some subplots, and a yet to be determined monster/fiend/antagonist lurking around.
Now everyone gets to finish the story in their own way. Try to keep it within 1000 words if you can, but we're not going to be strict on that. Haggis and I will go over a few more things to iron out, but you've got the basic idea, so get writing! If you haven't participated yet, now is your chance!
Here is the entire series of posts for your convenience:
In our basement, something lives. My parents always told us never to open the door and go down there. They kept the door locked and bolted, with the keys safely out of our reach. But my brother, Will, was curious about what was down there. We heard strange noises at night when we were safely tucked in our beds; noises that sounded not quite human, but almost. One night curiosity overcame Will and he snuck downstairs to fetch the keys.
“You stay here, Bobby,” he said, as he pulled on his sneakers. “Only one of us needs to get into trouble.”
“But something’s down there Will,” I whispered. “Something bad. Don’t go.”
"I gotta," he said. I saw that stupid dare thing he did with his eyes, bugging them out like before he climbed to the top of the old pine tree in the backyard -- then fell out and broke his arm.
"Here." I gave Will my lucky Spyhunter flashlight. "Y'know the lights are gonna go out. Dad never goes down without one."
Will clicked on the light and tucked it under his chin. "But if I have a light, what monsters will come out to play."
'Stop it!" I tossed my blankets over my head. I hated it when he did that.
I lay there trembling, my teeth chattering so hard I needed to grind them together to hear myself think. A floorboard creaked, then another as he headed back down. Go after him you stupid chicken! I thought, willing my legs obey. The thing was chained. I'd heard the rattle often enough as it dragged it across the cement. But there was no way Will could know how far the chain would stretch. What if it jumped from the shadows and got a hold of him? I saw my brother lying on the cold floor in a pool of blood and--that was it.
There were times I hated Will and wanted to punch his ugly face, but he was my brother. He'd put an end to a bully for me once at school. I couldn't let him go down there alone.
It wasn't easy, but I forced myself to follow him. I crept downstairs and into the kitchen. I paused by the basement door, sucked in a deep breath, then pushed it open and stepped onto the first stair. It made an audible groan.
"Will?" I whispered as loud as I dared. "Will, where are you?" I listened, but there was no response.
Two more steps.
The basement was deathly quiet and completely void of light. Why did I have to give Will that stupid flashlight?"
One more step.
Something brushed across my forehead. I froze, then frantically pawed at my face until I found the problem. Nothing but a stupid cobweb.I had to laugh at myself. Guess I really am a chicken. It took another full minute for my heart to stop pounding.
Then the basement door slammed shut behind me, and I heard the bolt slide home.
"Will." I growled, as I spun to face the stairs. My fear was replaced with a sense of foolishness, thinking my brother had outsmarted me. I clenched my fists as I pictured him behind the door at the top of the steps, smirking at me. Then, a rustling sound in the darkness caught me off guard.
Something else was down here.
I stood stock still, listening hard, as I held my breath. A soft whimper off to my left caught my attention. There was a faint light, like a flashlight beam fed by weakening batteries, coming from behind a large box. I crept towards it, the whimpering growing slightly louder as I moved; hoping what I found there would only be my imagination.
Instead, I found Will: curled into a ball, his eyes wide with fear.
“Will?” I said, hoping this was part of his joke.
"Bobby...It's...it's loose."
Will pulled me down behind the box and shushed me with a hand clapped over my mouth. Movement ticked across the basement floor like a Morse Code of talon taps, and an odor wafted on the close brush of breeze. It smelled like Rufus, the time he rolled in the dead squirrel and had to be banished to the garage until Dad came home to bathe him.
Where was Rufus, anyway? We should have brought him with us. He was probably still snuggled up at the foot of my bed, in one of his twitching dog dreams.
We creeped to the stairs, then up to the door.
I heard a giggle . Mina. That airhead mother pays to ‘watch ‘ us. As if that waste of breath would be of any help, she freaks if the cat has to go out.
I banged on the door and was rewarded with a low chuckle. Rolf. The other half of God’s serious mistake.
“Afraid o’ th’ boogeyman, squinks? Too bad cause you gonna….oh..yeah…”
“Let me out!!! Something’s wrong.…”
They weren’t listening. Mina was on her knees and Rolf was…
Chains rattled and stopped. A scraping noise followed by an all too liquid slurping. Something warm landed on my head. I pulled it off, afraid, yet knowing what it had to be.
“Will…” I whispered.
“Shhhhhh, stupid,” he hissed pulling me with him, and we fell, back into the darkness, as something rushed the stairs, shattering the door.
I awoke with a splitting headache, not knowing where I was or how long I'd been there. Gradually my memory returned, and along with it, my fears. Will was nowhere to be seen, and I had never felt so all alone in my life.
The quiet was stifling. There was no question I had to get out of there. My back hurt like hell and I was pretty sure I had sprained my right wrist, but I pushed myself to my feet and approached the stairway. I looked up toward the kitchen and saw the door lying back against the stove. Something had ripped it clear off its hinges and had nearly broken it in two.
What could have done that? And what could it have done with Will?
I thought basement stairs only creaked in the movies, but halfway up the staircase, I hit a real groaner. I pulled my foot back and froze, balancing on the other foot. A shuffling thump echoed from the left of the open doorway.
I waited, but all went quiet. I skipping the complaining stair and stretched my foot up to the next one, and let my weight settle gradually.
Nothing.
I shifted by weight, pulling on the handrail, and the step let out a gripe louder than the first. I stopped mid-pull and tried my best to control my breathing. The whistling in my ears pulsed a back-beat to my wheezes.
Another shuffle-thump snapped my head upward. Whatever was there seemed to be moving closer to the open doorway, just a few feet in front of me. I stretched my neck so my head was level with the kitchen floor and peeked as far as I could in the direction of the noises, looking for moving shadows, some hint of the size of the noise-maker. Anything.
My bladder pressed against my lower stomach, its contents swishing like a washing machine, as its evacuation hose retracted like a turtle head into a shell. I leaned forward and placed my fingertips on the top step, easing my weight forward. The walls of the hallway danced with the shadows of trees, thrown in spasms from the streetlights through the unprotected windows.
I leaned my weight forward slightly on trembling fingers. Could the thing be further down the hall? Could it be inches from the doorframe with jaws already opened wide like a bear trap? The waving shadows seemed to be urging me to retreat. But I had to do it. If I could just lean forward a few more inches, I’d be able to see down the hallway.
My hand slipped, nearly pitching me head first through the ruined door. Wildly, I scrabbled behind me, grabbing hold of the door frame and catching myself just before I fell. I paused a second to catch my breath, my heart beating so hard it shook my entire body. Steadying myself, I leaned forward again. And gagged.
The remnants of Rufus's silver studded black leather collar lay in shreds, just inches from my face. Something red pooled on the floor around it; something I was pretty sure was his leg lay shattered on the kitchen tile.
Hot tears filled my eyes as I slumped to the floor, thinking about Rufus. He had been my one true friend; a companion I could always count on when I felt small and vulnerable.
Then a rage inside me grew like hot coals catching a breeze and bursting into flames.
“I’m not going to be afraid anymore, Rufus,” I said as I stood up, my fists clenched so hard my fingernails drawing blood from my palms. “I’m gonna find this thing. And I’m gonna get you some payback.”
I knew where my father kept a sawed off shotgun hidden in the garage. There was a flashlight mount on it, too, and a box of buckshot shells in the cabinet above. This would be my first stop, as the door leading to the garage was in the hallway.
Hopefully, the thing, whatever it was, hadn’t gone into the garage.
I sniffed the air. The smell! It came to me in a flash. The stench of dead things rotting hung around Rufus' remains, but it wasn't Rufus. It was the distinct odor of the creature. It was not nearby, but I could track it with my nose.
This in mind, I hurried through the kitchen door that lead out to the garage. Inside, I found Dad's gun cabinet unlocked and standing open. I grabbed the 7.5 mm. It was only medium sized, but deadly in velocity, and so easy to handle Dad let me practice using it.
In the drawer where he kept the boxes of bullets separate from the rifles, I found Dad's antique darringer also missing. Mina? Will? My heart swelled with sudden hope, but that meant there were two things to watch for...the monster...and whoever else carried a gun.
Strange that. I mean a moment before I was scared to death but now? I remembered how old man Jones had told Will and me never to go under Wadkins bridge because something bad lived there. We had laughed and told each other let's go. We did and there was not a thing there that we could see but I remember the breeze that blew under that bridge and the smell. It was the same stink, yes that stink of our basement.
"Excuse me young man. Are you Will's little brother?" There was a hand on my shoulder. Well it seemed like a hand but something sharp dug deeply. Mother had often talked to Will and me of God and the Devil. Mom told us that God's voice was one of pure love. I don't think this was that voice then I heard my brother's scream.
“Bloody hell,” The voice was the gravelly baritone of Old Man Jones. He jerked his hand from my shoulder, and in the same motion leveled the crossbow he carried at the bushes next to the garage. The bolt thudded home, transfixing whatever loathsome creature that lurked there.
“Stay,” he said pushing me back as he advanced. I took the safety off the 7.5 and followed anyway.
I wish I hadn’t. In the bushes lay Rolf. Or what was left of Rolf. From the chest down he was nothing but bone, and the bone oxidized as I looked.
Another scream. I turned. Mina. Sitting in the back of Old Man Jones’ new pick up, covered in blood. Rolf’s I guessed. I walked over to ask her what happened and saw Will, lying there, bundled in a blanket. His eyes were open, moving, yet unseeing, his mouth working toward another scream.
I clawed wildly at the tailgate as I tried to get to Will. My hands slipped in the blood that dripped from Mina's shirt and torn jeans, but I finally managed to haul myself up. Nearly tumbling on top of him, I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Will! Are you hurt?"
I pulled the blanket back but didn't see any wounds. His face contorted in a grimace that drew his lips back and I could see where he had gnawed them raw. Something had nearly scared him to death. Mina didn't look so hot, either.
I looked up at Mina. "I...I...."
I wanted to tell her how sorry I was about her boyfriend. Even more, I wanted to know why she'd locked us into the basement. I looked at her again, my mouth struggling to form the words...and she began to cry.
"I'm sorry!" she wailed between sobs. "Oh my God, Rolf! Rolf! What have I done?"
"So you're the one loosed it?" Old man Jones asked, climbing into the cab of the truck and starting it up.
Why, I wondered, was the old man here. And why did he seem to know all about this thing that had been locked in our basement. As the truck pulled away, I asked the only question that made sense. "Did you see it, Mina? What the hell is it?"
I asked the question, the answer had no time. "Get in the truck, can't you smell it? Get in the truck hurry!" There had been a light breeze surrounding the house. Nothing to see, nothing but black clouds suckinig the breeze inside, stinking black clouds that chased the truck as old man Jones turned the key and the truck died.
