It's Not Me It's My Basement Novels & Stories

The wallpaper is peeling and the floor consistently creeks and moans. Goddess, if you're listening, please give me strength and patience. I pray to my true superior. My baby kicks. Yes, I know, me too, little man, me too. He guides me down a very suspect staircase. The basement is dark and reeks of mildew. I hear a small click and the whole room is lit up. Only a bit though. I look around. Nothing is really down here. This whole area seems forgotten and unused. I hear something move behind me, a rat. My jaw drops. "What am I doing down here?" I speak softly. "I'm glad you asked." Oliver turns around to face me.

Not after what I’d seen. It had been days since I stumbled into the basement. Days since I discovered the truth lurking beneath the polished floors and pristine walls of that suburban dream home. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up to him without sounding crazy. How do you even start a conversation like that? “Oh, by the way, the house we’re buying has a basement full of illegal drugs. Thought you should know.” Yeah, right. So, I had to improvise. “Konrad,” I said softly, trying to steady my voice. He didn’t even look up from the papers.

I have to find my baby! "H-hijo...Beautrin. Here...in the house. In the basement of our house with Beatriz! The people inside are armed, Claus! I-I didn't know there was a secret basement here ! My God! Beautrin is screaming! We're going inside again today! We just called you to let you know!" Basement? In the basement of their own house? Fvck it! How did they not know that there was a basement?! I wasted nothing and immediately went there.

I was already late for my meeting. I took a shower,wore my suit not bothering to eat breakfast then walked into my car and drove to the philp cooperation. What she did to me was unforgivable,she reduced me like a nobody , to the lowest point like a desperate male stripper. She better watched her back, nobody embarrasses Noah Williams and go free with it , nobody.

Then I took my leave without even saying a word, I don’t feel like finding a replacement for him. I walk into the foyer with white marble clacking against my heels and the beautiful spiral staircase that wound all the way to the top, Clara, my maid took my coat, while at the same time lingering her stare at me a little too long. It disgusts me when women drool like that, especially American women. I walk immediately to a door located on the wall of the staircase, push in the code, and the door clicks. I walk down the stairs rolling up my sleeves, making sure my footsteps are heard. The basement has several different uses. I rarely ever hold enemies in my own home, but if it’s a special case

Ian kisses me like a man thats starved and I bite down on his lips, hard. He groans and grinds against me, already hard. I hate him. I hate myself more because I’m wet the second his tongue touches mine. “Not here,” I hiss but my hands are already clawing at his belt. “Basement,” he says. I should say no. I should march upstairs, pack my bag, and drive back to the city right now. Instead I let him tug me through the pantry, down the narrow stairs that smell old Christmas decorations. The basement is half finished when we got there, a sagging couch, Dad’s ancient weight bench, boxes of my childhood stuffed animals staring at us with plastic eyes.

Her sharp red lips curved slightly. “You’re needed downstairs.” My brows furrowed. “Downstairs?” Not upstairs. Not a VIP room. Downstairs? Something about that word immediately made my stomach tighten. Roxy noticed it too because her teasing expression disappeared almost instantly. Lilith adjusted the sleeve of her black dress calmly. “Basement level.” Basement. Okay, somehow that sounded significantly worse. I glanced at Roxy. She raised both hands immediately. “Don’t look at me. I’ve never been called down there before.”

Lastly, I peeked down my tight shorts to make sure that wasn't the cause. "Nope," I reassured Tessa, "I'm good. I mean, I've been good...this time." "Will miracles never cease," Tessa muttered. The comedy was bleeding the tension and hostility from the room. "Let me try this again. Since top down doesn't work, let's start in the dirt beneath the basement. Cáel, what is going on?" "Okay...give me a second to make this sound reasonable and convincing," I furrowed my brow.

My patience snapped, it evaporated to thin air like smoke. My brother-in-law gave me a questioning gaze when I stood up and headed to the basement without bidding goodbye to everyone. The basement was still the same, minimalist in all sense there is. It has a bed with white linen, a desk that has books, a closet that holds only five sets of each clothing, and a wall that bears my scruffy handwriting.

Written in the exact same rough, heavy dark ink that had crossed out my presentation title were six short words: Gym basement storage. Midnight. Don't make me wait.