The Cellar Novels & Stories

Feeling convinced, I leave the library, lock the door, and head for the stairs leading to the cellar basement. A few minutes later, I arrive. But the instant I enter the cold space, I gulp in some air into my lungs. This place holds a nostalgic memory for me, all thanks to Clarissa and Louise. I nearly lost my baby here. I nearly lost my Dad and Dylan too. However, I didn’t let any of that stop me. So now, I will keep pushing. I move in further, looking around. There are three cellar rooms down here and they are all stocked with wine. I search all three of them very carefully, just like I did back at the library.

I clarified anyway, because this rage—this cold, coiled thing demanded precision. He gave a single nod. “She’s to be brought to the cellars. Intact.” A pause. “Until I’m ready.” His eyes flickered, a question unspoken. But he was smart. Loyal. He didn’t voice it. I walked on. The cellars were never built for wine. That had always been a lie. The public tours called it the lower east vault. The servants knew it as the quiet wing. But the truth was simpler. Harsher.

As they open the cellar door the putrid smell of rot and damp hit my nose, crunching it up I take a breath looking down the large ominous door towards the cellar. Drake goes first, leading me down the narrow pathway until it opens up into 4 cells, a small interrogation room to the side. Tools of all sizes, big small and medium. All of them had lights shining darkly above the cells, making it feel rather spooky, each cell was clean and presentable enough although I really wouldn’t want to spend a night down here. Drake kisses my head, taking a breath and he steps towards the room at the side. He nods his head preparing me and he

“Tell him thanks when you speak with Dominic, then.” Nate tipped his head and smiled. “Aye. I’ll do that. Now, there should be food in the underground cellar, but we’ll have to go into town to get some fresh meat. Let me get a few things first, and we can do that.” Before heading out to gather wood and water, Nate showed me where the small cellar was located. It was a small trap door situated close to the kitchen side of the cottage. Upon descending the small and tight stairs, I discovered a treasure trove of fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs, all stored alongside canned goods. The cold was kept inside the cellar by its stone walls, making it a natural refri

I spat out in the silence as I yanked my clothes on. With a set of shaking hands and weak knees, I stumbled down the steps until I found the last one. True to what Alyssa had said, there was a light switch not two inches away from me. I flipped it on, expecting to find what should have been a dirty, dank cellar. However, the reality knocked me on my butt. There was nothing old or dirty or dank about this cellar. The floors were covered with wall-to-wall carpet, and although there were no windows in this room, the soft glow of the lights above gave off an atmosphere of hot, sexual intimacy. Perfect for a D/s dungeon.

To that hated place. Still no fucking lock on the door. I couldn't do it. Couldn't chance not being able to get in there. I opened the cellar door, the smell already taking me back years and years. Was this a twisted sanctuary of sorts? A tangled, dark thing, one I couldn't escape, one I dreaded that drew me back time and time again?

I could see the door and the path, but not clearly. I strained my eyes, reached for the cellar door, then pushed it open. The cellar itself was dimly lit, with only one light bulb at the centre illuminating the space. It looked less like a cellar and more like a torture chamber, reeking of blood and infection. The air itself was cold, as if I had stepped into an infected space. I walked in, one step at a time, the sound echoing loudly, bouncing on the walls and back to me. I heard ragged breaths, the scratch of claws on the floor, and a few sprawled figures on the floor.

Perhaps less popcorn, she amended to herself, and more porn – there was something about the choice of couch that indicated it was used as frequently for sex as for sitting. Despite the generous size of the house, she knew that the cellar was not as large as it had been when they were teenagers. She was not surprised when Heath crossed to the back wall and pulled back a curtain to reveal a hidden steel door with a safe-style wheel entry. “You always intended to do this,” she realized. “Back when we were teenagers, this is why you were looking for the cellar.” “Of course,” Heath opened the door revealing how thick the steel was an

Now, the lock was freshly scratched. Clara crouched, running her thumb along the edge. “Recently forced.” “Within the last few nights,” I agreed. “Probably her.” I drew the dagger from my belt and slid it between the hinges. “Stand back.” She did, though her hand stayed close to her blade. With a soft crack, the rusted latch gave way, and the door creaked open. Cold air rushed out — damp, still, carrying a whisper of something ancient. We descended slowly. The cellar was larger than I remembered, carved deep into the rock. Dust coated the shelves and old barrels, but in the far corner, a single candle had burned down to wax and ash. Around it, faint symbols we

“Don't worry, I'll get it myself. Thank you.” With the servers preparing to move, I walked through the kitchen, making my way down the narrow stairs toward the underground cellar. The air turned cooler the deeper I went, the dim lighting casted shadows along the stone walls. The cellar was huge, almost intimidating with its endless rows of expensive wine bottles, all of them neatly tucked into their designated spot. I found the two bottles sitting on the top shelf, right where the server said they’d be.