Its Not Me Its My Basement Novels & Stories

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.

If there is a drug for being immortal, I will be the first to try it out. Anyways, the chill of the basement seeps into my bones. I haven’t been in here since....well forever, I guess it’s because there are some things I like to avoid, Robert never liked the basement, no one came down except me which makes it a good hiding place for my secrets. I flick on the switch, the dim light from the light bulb hanging in the ceiling reflecting enough light for me to see. Honestly speaking, I don’t know why I am down here, am I searching for memories? Well, I guess.

Aunt won’t know I was even gone. He doesn’t even wait for me to agree and drags me along. We go behind the house and start descending the stairs. Is it the basement? I hate the basement. It reminds me of hungry days. Days where I’m alone and waiting patiently for mummy to come for me. I don’t want to go inside. He continues to drag me down the stairs.

I rush to it, trying to open it anyway, pushing with both palms and then slamming my shoulder into it, but it doesn’t budge. There’s a small rectangular slat at head height, and I pry and shove, but I can’t open it. I’m in a basement. Black mold creeps up the walls from rotting baseboards. The room is fairly big, as large as the supply shed, but there’s only one high glass-block window. Although it’s thick with dust, it lets in some light. It’s morning. How long was I out? Where’s Clay? My panic swells, and I grab for the bond and pull and pull. I know he’s there. I can feel him, his fury and anxiety, but I can’t tell if he’s close or if he feels me.

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'm going to eat this in the basement. Alone.” The surprise on my mom's face almost made me laugh as I stomped down to the basement. I kicked the door open and dropped the apple pie and apples on the table. I angrily took off the mitt and threw it beside everything. My own mother thinks I have a wardrobe malfunction! My own mother! I looked around in the tiny room. There was an old brown couch resting in front of an old but still functioning TV and DVD player. Stacks of torn magazines, novels and newspapers had their final resting place on the right. A mini fridge stood lonely on the left.

I drew in a deep breath and looked between the two of them. "The basement is every female's worst living nightmare."I started out as all the memories came to me all at the same time.

I followed instinct down the corridor Landon had warned me about, stopping in front of the door that felt heavy to pull. The basement opened with a low groan, and cold air spilled out. The lights were dim, some, flickering. The air inside felt heavy as if belonging to another world. When I got down the basement, my breath froze, thick chains bolted into the concrete, worn out from use. The floor was scratched and stained. Clumps of fur lay everywhere on the ground. My stomach tightened, “who the fuck is this guy exactly!” Then a crazy thought slid into my mind, but I ignored it immediately.

Watching every second. “Good. Keep going.” Another vibration. Another message. This one contained a location. No street name. No coordinates. Just two words: THE BASEMENT. Alessio froze. The basement door sat at the far end of the hallway, half-hidden behind an old shelving unit. The only place in the entire house Noa refused to go. The one room that always felt colder than it should. Not cursed or supernatural, just badly built, badly insulated, forgotten. The kind of room that made your skin crawl for no reason.

Just like me, they had the same reaction. "So, I was wrong to think no one ever got curious to try and slide down here, to see what's behind that pipe must really have eaten so many lives," I said, crossing my arms, and shaking my head. Werewolves, or humans, or anything, are all here in the basement, and they looked at me disgustingly. Welcoming must've been out of their diary for quite a long ago. How long are they here? Are they even eating?