Dungeon Basement Novels & Stories

With her walking freely, the chance of losing everything they have is too high and they can't risk it. As First walked down the stairs leading to the basement, he saw a bulky man walking around stealthily while peeking through the rooms. Hospital basements are generally dimly lit, dark areas; they normally contain spare or unused equipment, particularly spare beds that can be brought out in case of a sudden surge of patients. Often the mortuary is found in the basement too. Even with the dimly lit space, First caught a glimpse of the man and immediately gave orders to his remaining team members to apprehend him as he looked for Luna.

"Enjoy that. It is specially made. Even for someone like you." He turned away from me and walked to the corner of the room with one of his teammates. I watched as he crouched down and grabbed a metal latch on the floor. He pulled it open, revealing a dark hole and a set of stairs leading down. The basement. I watched as Zane's teammates descended into the basement one by one. The metal latch clanged against the floor, and the sound echoed in the room. Zane remained above, standing near the opening, watching his men disappear into the darkness.

“Contact me if anything changes.” I head upstairs. The dungeons are in the basement under the packhouse. They have reinforced walls and ceilings so that anything that happens down here cannot be heard outside these walls. Werewolves are violent by nature, but that doesn’t mean that pups and pregnant mothers need to hear me beating the shit out of someone. When I get to the top of the stairs, I find Dustin waiting for me. “What’s up?” I ask.

MADDOX The scent of damp earth and aged whiskey lingered in the hidden basement, a room concealed beneath layers of stone and secrecy. The dim, flickering light of a single bulb cast jagged shadows across the walls, dancing like restless phantoms. This was my sanctuary, my hell, and my throne. It was here that I could drown in the twisted symphony of my memories without the weight of eyes judging my every move.

And when we reach the bottom, I understand why. The last step creaks under my weight as we reach the bottom. Down here, it's nothing like the polished halls above. The floor is rough concrete, uneven and cold beneath my feet. The walls are stained, streaked with water damage and something darker --- rust, maybe. Or blood. It smells like metal, sweat and old suffering. This is no basement. This has to be the elusive dungeon. The Ice King doesn't say anything as he drags me forward, but his grip tightens on my arm like he knows I won't like what I'm about to see. He's right.

"There's a junction ahead. Low ceiling." I duck, scraping my shoulder against the rough concrete. The air is thick, suffocating. It tastes of mold and the ancient, settled dust of the underground. This is the old maintenance access for the boiler room—a relic from when the compound was a factory. Drakon said only the original five members knew about it. Now, it’s our only way back into the kingdom we lost. "Almost there," Drakon says. The pipe widens. The texture under my hands changes from slime to dry, dusty concrete. We are under the basement now.

[DUNGEON - DIMLY LIT AND DANK CELL] The dungeon is a grim and shadowy place, the walls lined with cold, damp stones that seem to seep misery. Meagia was laying on the floor with dishevelled hair and eyes filled with desperation, slowly regaining consciousness on a cold, stone floor. Her eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim light filtering in from a small, barred window high above.

She was on the ground floor, looking for something that would point her in the right direction of the basement. Dungeons are always in the basement, she thought wryly as she tried to determine which way to go to find Stefano. She crept forward slowly, trying to keep her step light, knowing the hall was filled with werewolves with super-hearing and super-senses. She didn't live under the illusion she would make it all the way down to the dungeons and back without getting caught but she was hopeful she would be able to sneak in and see Stefano before the werewolves clued into her presence.

I whispered, glancing towards Ricardo who was leading the way without even much as a glance towards us. “His Dungeons. Don't mind the bastard for putting dim lights. He claims it makes the place scary” Davian grumbled but he was assumed. “A dungeon?” I whispered harshly, my eyes growing the size of a saucepan “Who the fuck has a dungeon in the basement of their house?” We took a turn and ended up in another dimly lit hallway and I had to wonder how many there were and just how big the place was. Not only that, but the hallway was littered with armed guards that I knew would be ready to shoot any intruders or prisoners they had locked in this place.

"No. No, please. Damien, you can't—" But he shoved me forward. I stumbled down the stairs, trying not to drop Charlotte. My shoulder hit the wall. Pain exploded through my arm. We reached the bottom. Damien flipped a switch. A single bulb flickered to life. Dim. Barely illuminating the space. The basement was small. Concrete walls. Dirt floor. No windows. A mattress in the corner. Some blankets. Water bottles. Food. He'd been planning this. Preparing this. "Sit." He pointed to the mattress.