Of course, the house had a reputation. It was the worst place in town. Windows were long since smashed in, glass scattered everywhere. The siding was rotted and boards were dropping by the day, exposing the underbelly of the house, tongue and groove woodwork, now covered in sticky black mold.
Sheer curtains hung in the empty window frames and moved, some said, on their own, with or without a breeze present.
Behind the rusted out old Ford truck, once a two-toned blue and white beauty, and now rotting on potholed drive, Mich and Tony crouched, discussing their plan.
“Mich, you take the TP and drop it across the tree at the far end and I’ll head over that way.” Tony said, adjusting his stance, and wiping his pimple-specked hair line, trying to get rid of the cold sweat before Michele noticed and made fun of him for being scared.
“And afterward, we’ll meet back here and douse the house with the eggs.” Mich suggested as he tore at the end of the toilet paper roll in his hand, getting the paper loose and ready to toss into the tree.
“Let’s do it!” Tony whisper-yelled, taking off in a sprint.
They ran as fast as they could to their desired locations in the yard in front of the deserted house and were soon busy decorating; trees and what was left of the dead and over grown hedging were covered in white streamers of toilet paper.
Part one of the mission — accomplished.
Crouching behind the truck again, they took a moment to regroup. Tony looked down at the twelve cartoons of eggs they’d bought from three different stores. Sure that the clerks would alert someone if they saw two teenage guys walking out of their store with twelve dozen eggs on Devil’s Night. He opened the packages and took a few eggs in his left hand, gesturing to Mich to do the same.
“Ready?” Michele asked, he sprouted up and started hurling eggs that the house, finding immense pleasure in the thwacking sound they made against the siding. Egg for egg they matched each other until only one cartoon remained. Yellow splattered goop was every where, only the front door managed to remain unscathed.
“I dare you to go up to the door and smash these eggs onto the wood one at a time.” Mich challenged. No one ever got that up close to the house, or dared step on the porch. The myths surrounding the history of the house were enough to keep most away.
Tony gulped and looked over at the house, he knew he’d be shitting bricks once he stepped one foot on that porch, but he had to suck it up, no way he’d want to look like a wuss.
“You going to do it or what?” Mich goaded. “Maybe we need to tape up your sack and get you some panties…”
“Nah, I got this. Just deciding if I’m going to put the egg in my pockets or carry the carton.” Tony tried to save face.
The wind blustered and blew, some of their toilet paper decor flew off the tree. Tony picked up the paper egg carton, “Take video of this, I want proof that this went down.” He walked away from Mich and didn’t look back.
“Woohoo, you found your cahoonas! Did it hurt to take the tape off?” Mich called out behind him. The words chaffed a little, he’d have to find a good pay back for Mich, f’ing guy wouldn’t be able to do this without shaking in his boots either, Tony thought.
One step at a time, shaking enough to worry that he might accidentally drop the eggs, he approached the porch, the street lights cast a gloomy glow across the front of the house, it creaked and groaned and Tony began to worry that it was the house itself telling him not to trespass.
He stepped in front of the door, felt an unfamiliar cushiness under his feet and looked down. It was a welcome mat. Shinny and new. He had just enough time to think what the hell? Before there was a series of clicks and cracks and whoosh, Tony felt gravity pull him down he fell through the trap door and dropped straight down a wooden shaft. This was not the Scooby Doo cartoon kind of trap door, that had a nifty slid attached. It was dark and terrifying, lasted only a few seconds before Tony’s feet hit the ground unexpectedly. The force of impact shattered his right leg, first the noise of the fracture struck him as odd, and then white blinding, searing pain caused him to crumple to the ground, where he passed out.
When he woke Tony tried to sit up, but even the slightest movement jared him and caused incapacitating pain to scorch through his leg. His stomach turned in response and he retched all over the floor to his left. When he was done emptying his stomach Tony pressed his back against the wall behind him, if someone else came through that trap — so be it.
He surveyed his surroundings; the basement was dark, the air was damp and musty, fear crippled him. Along the wall to his left were cages, large enough for a very large dog. In one of the far cages it looked as though it had been recently used, a filthy pillow and blanket lay on the floor, and worse a stuffed teddy bear. Attached to the wall on the right were chains and cuffs.
“Jesus, what the hell is this place?” he whispered.
“It’s your own personal hell,” a gruff voice answered back, so terrifying was the voice that Tony wet himself a little. Yet he could see no one.
“Your buddy’ll be joining you soon,” The voice said. Tony began to shiver, the cold of his soiled pants and the pain shrouded his every thought. He felt his leg burn and a cold sweat broke out on his exposed skin. He kept silent, praying that Mich had seen enough to not to step on the bloody mat in front of the door. Maybe he would even be able to call police….That’s when Tony remembered… his phone!
Frantically he checked his pockets, patting the floor around him. But nothing, his phone was missing. Seconds later, from the darkest corner his cell phone slid across the floor towards him. Crashed and broken the phone was destroyed.
“You won’t be calling anyone,” the voice said. Tony’s skin began to crawl.
He looked around the dank basement, and like an old film movie that played on a reel flickers of the horror that happened in that very basement played for him. Visions of children and teenagers locked within the cages in front of him, lured by the thrill of the forbidden and haunted house. They fell through the very same trap door to their fate. Never found and never forgotten these children came in visions before him in various stages of distress. They were tortured to please his every whim, beaten beyond recognition, and starved to death by the one they called Eurynome. Horrified by the visions Tony began to heave and empty what very little remnants were in his stomach.
“This too, shall be your fate,” the voice from the darkness whispered.
“Fuck you, I’m not going to be your fucking play toy!” Tony shouted, he tried to hoist himself into a standing position only to fall on the floor again.
“Tony? I know your down there!” Michcalled out. “Hold on buddy, I called 911!”
Mich! Thank God for Mich. Tony felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
“You will not be saved! No one leaves my realm,” the voice roared from the depths of darkness, and slowly, the house began to shake, debris and loose boards shattered around him. Then Mich appeared, only different somehow, unearthly even.
“Eurynome, your time has come” Mich said, standing taller than Tony remembered.
“I will not be defeated by you Michael, not now and not ever!” The house began to shake again, and swirls of dark shadows circled around the room, and appeared to be targeting him. Tony became dizzy, sweat poured from his skin. The visions of children, the lost, the injured, the taken, all who had suffered great horrors within that basement came from the walls, the floor and surrounded him with protection. He felt their relief with such ferocity that it over took him.
He shook as the ghosts surround him and he watched the darkness in the air slash at the protective layer of children around him. He saw who he thought was Mich, stand firm and strong against the darkness, an etherial light shone from his core. Who was this Michael or Mich, who ever he was, and how was he able to grapple with such petrifying darkness?
It felt like hours they grappled, Eurynome and Michael, but in reality is was but a few moments, and when light began to falter and darkness strengthened the visions of children who surrounded him in protection left. One at a time they blasted at the darkness, shooting holes throughout its being. With this small advantage Michael, the children called their protector, was able to vanquish darkness.
“Tony? Wake up, the police are on their way!” Mich shook his shoulders.
“Huh? What the….”
“You knocked your head when you fell through the rotten boards in the porch.” Mich quickly explained. “I had to carry you out. Come on, get up. I can’t be caught by the police, my parents will loose their minds if they knew what we were doing tonight.”
“Who called the police?” Tony mumbled.
“I don’t know! It doesn’t matter! Just get your ass up and lets move!”
Tony reluctantly stood, the leg he remembered was broken, wasn’t. His head ached like a motherfucker, but other than that he was fine. As he followed Mich through the alleys and streets away from the police, he was left with one question. What the fuck really happened in that house?
Brookelynn Berry remains everyone’s favorite dead sexy writer, er, writer of undead, and general sexiness. Or whatever. You can find out what kind of naughty things she’s been up to over at https://brookelynnberry.wordpress.com/ or follow her on Twitter @Auth_brookelynn