Novel & Cerita It's Not Me It's My Basement

Perhaps I could look for the bills in the morning? No. If I was correct, those bills were buried in the basement file room, and there was no way I was going to dig through that muck without looking like something the Swamp Thing vomited up on New Year's Eve. I groaned and dragged myself off the couch. I needed to change my clothing before poking about in the basement at work, which I dubbed the Basement of Horror. I returned to my room and changed into an old, tattered pair of pants that had seen better days. The t-shirt I was wearing had a stain on my left breast from spilling red sangria a few months before, so it'd suffice. I stuffed my feet into my old shoes, grabbed my keys, and walked

the question reverberated through the room as it did my head. With a gulp, I give him a nod. He smiled, and pulls me down goddess-knows-what in what looks like a basement the owners abandoned decades ago. Walking down the creaky, old wooden steps, careful not to trip or stumble on my feet in case there was a cliff on the bottom of it. I know it’s ridiculous to have a cliff below your room but I suffer from paranoia, at times, especially when I held secrets I did not want anyone finding out.

he said, still laughing. “And annoying too,” I rolled my eyes. “I get she's only being insecure, but then, does she have to pick meaning to everything I do?” “That's women for you. Trust me, you would have done the same if you were in her shoes.” Even though I knew I couldn't relate, I knew he was right. “So, how about the stuff?” I asked, changing the conversation. “Where is the room?” “It's in the basement.” He answered. “Basement?” I half-yelled.

Just then, I realized I was out of credit! The sweat settling on my forehead trickled. I wiped it off immediately. I could feel my heart racing as the clock ticked. With my eyes closed, I took steady breaths, trying to calm myself down. As my hand rubbed through my heavy stomach, I gently pulled out of bed. Although in the meantime I heard more noises of people talking, I gathered some courage and started heading for the basement. I am sure it wasn't the neighbours. This is an estate, for crying out loud. What's happening? I tiptoed into the darkness that surrounded me. As I slowly reached the basement, I guessed there was over one person. I can't believe. There couldn't be many people in ou

I get to the third house and make my way inside to search the house itself to see if anyone has been around here, but I do not find a thing. Now the basement, to say I am not scared shitless, would be a blatant lie; I know I can handle myself; I don't know what he is prepared to do, though. I truly believe his intention will be to eliminate me completely. Monsters don't get reinvented with a conscience. Where is the basement? There is no goddamn basement! What the fuck now? Wait, there is a barn. My heart is pounding out my chest; I think this must be it. I don't know if I should yank the door or just pull it.

Faint scratches near the bottom like something sharp had dragged against it years ago. And somehow… I had never questioned it. Mason noticed my expression immediately. “You’re remembering more,” he whispered. Not relief. Fear. I looked at him slowly. “There’s a basement.” The sentence barely felt real leaving my mouth. Ethan frowned. “This house has a basement?” “I think so.” Think. Not know. Because even now, the memory felt unstable. Like something inside my mind was fighting to keep it buried. Another knock echoed beneath the floor. Closer this time.

But I have to be patient, otherwise my soul mate will not run away. “Okay, the first thing you should know is that we won't be attacking them in this base. But we're going south. More precisely in the underground base which is also connected to this base. I know you must be asking where did I get the equipment we are currently wearing. The thing you should know is, that you can also build like this if you have the money. OK, let's move on!"

I followed behind them as they chatted between themselves. " Te acuerdas de tu guitarra Alex?(Do you remember your guitar Alex?)" Pa Alejo brought up as we walked down the stairs to the vast basement of the house. I was honestly getting suspicious. There was nothing in the basement as far as I am aware. Only the usual old junk that's meant to be in a basement.

I discouraged him but he waved his hands as if to say ‘Bring it on’. “How bad could it be? Let me hear it and cut the shit.” He groaned while unlocking the door to a very dark area. “This place reeks of dust, you rarely use it right?” I questioned while covering my nose from the stench smell. “Yeah, we use the general basement, but this is the first time I'm having a personal issue that involves a private basement.” He answered while stepping into the gated room and dropping the rogue on the floor like some sack of potatoes which earned a painful groan.

Noah once joked that places like this rely on people believing rules are enforced more than actually enforcing them. I slip inside. The hallway smells like disinfectant and stale air. My footsteps echo softly as I move deeper, past offices I recognize from memory and nightmares. My chest tightens with every step. This is where he stood. This is where everything changed. My phone vibrates. Unknown Number: Records room. Basement level. I hesitate only a second before heading for the stairs. The basement is colder. Dimmer. The lights flicker faintly, like they’re tired. The records room door is slightly ajar.