Piece by piece to love | Sleepy bois inc

Chapter 5: Rat problem

It was raining. Fucking AGAIN. Like the day before and the day before… It was raining the whole fucking one and a half week he have been there. What, did God forget that he created multiple types of weather?! Not only the wet ones?! He gets it, it’s England, according to stereotypes it’s supposed to rain but not all the time for fuck sake! Tommy growled, sinking deeper into his chair as procente of uploading hadn't even slightly changed during the past half an hour. First problems with electricity, now the internet? No, the signal was fine, just this website was again taking ages to do anything. Tommy was bored without nothing to do. Tubbo left some time ago, claiming that he had to go to the shop if he wanted to cook. And just like that he was gone and Tommy had no one to terrorize. Instead he was being the one being terrorized by the lack of things to do. Maybe he could get a book…? No, that’s ridiculous, there was nothing interesting in that library… Where else to go…

And suddenly a brilliant idea struck him like a thunder. Basement, of course! Creepy, old basements were always fun! And with Tubbo out of the house no one would oppose him! Yes, his plan was going together nicely… He will go down there to explore and scare the shit out of the potential ghost living there. Yes, brilliant. Only thing that he needed now was a flashlight. And maybe a weapon, but a frying pan had to do. And like that he was ready to go!

Tommy Innit, explorer of the basement!

The Stairs were wider than those to the attic, but way more slippery. Teenager could just sit down and slide down the stairs which was exactly what he did. No one could tell him not to, right? At first it didn’t look so different from those basements in normal houses: plain, grey corridor, only difference was a worn out carpet on the floor. Tommy was kind of disappointed. He was looking forward to some old barrels at least, but an armor or a medieval sword would be a nice addition. Finally after a few meters carpet ended right next to the door and after that started a real basement. Walls were covered in shelves full of home made preserves, there was even one of those “wine walls”. They were dated pretty far back and must have cost a fortune at this point! So there was a treasure after all, just not as exciting as he would wish. But maybe… there would be something more further? No, there was a bike. Three bikes. Boring. And those… were those wine making barrels? So cool! How did they work? Did they work? No, they were empty. Well, they didn’t have to be! Tommy opened one, but the smell of vinegar immediately punched him in the face. He was prepared for ghosts, not old toxic smells! Medic, medic!

Traveling further down he discovered some more jars and some repair tools as well as spare parts for both bikes and the mower. Why were they down here and not in the shed, he had no idea. Some light bulbs, switches… boring! Wait, were those… torches? Sweet! Real, wooden torches with cloth tips. Like those from medieval events that he used to go to as a kid! Was there something more…?

Tommy felt as if he hit the jackpot. In the corner was standing a medieval armor. It was too tall for him, but still! An armor! Sadly it wasn’t one of those heavy armors, but better than nothing, right? Hauberk was displayed on the stand, covered with some real armor pieces and a tunic with an emblem. But it had a cape! Red one with a fur collar! It was surprising how well kept it was! Just like that hat on the ground level, only a little dusty. But there was no way Tommy could lift all of this by himself. Chain mail must have weighed a lot, not mentioning the armor pieces! Pity, but he could come back with Tubbo to help him. If he remembered properly, his friend was planning on washing that bucket hat, so a cape shouldn’t make a difference, right?

Promising armor to come back for it, Tommy started to back down, realising he had spent enough time down there. But then he realized: he hadn’t checked out that one room behind that door. And they weren’t even properly closed!

How surprised he was to discover yet another bedroom. And how strange it was! In the ground was laying fluffy carpet and walls were painted in muted pink. There were some posters both from medieval conventions and conspiracy theories that claimed that the government is using people and need to go down. Furnitures were white and minimal, most of the room empty with a big mirror on one of the walls. Bed was standing in the corner, full of pillows and stuffed animals, covered in a blanket with pig pattern. Its locator must have been a weird fella, that’s for sure.

But then Tommy saw it. A SWORD. A FUCKING FENCING SWORD.

He almost squealed, feeling as if it was christmas. His dreams came true, God has sent him down a sword. His heart started to flatter, as he took it off the wall with awe. He was feeling blessed, so blessed he could barely form any actual thought.

And then IT started. He felt the temperature suddenly drop, the feeling of thin fingers wrapping around his shoulders was terrible. Tommy stupidly dropped the sword, taking out the frying pan.

- G… host? I’m not scared of you… COME AND FIGHT ME, YOU BITCH!- he yelled, making probably another mistake. Basement filled with a roaring wind, things started falling off the shelves. Tommy’s brain was screaming EVACUATE but his legs weren’t listening.

I̵͎̱̒̈́̇̀̊̌̿̽̂̃͆̐̒̃̈́͘̕͝͝T̷̢̨͔̭͙͈͈̼̰̠̣̭̲͍̝̲̥̣͈͕̲͒̿̐͗̄̎͐̂̔͑̾̽͋͌̇͊̐̀̓̿́͐̑̒̕̕̚͝'̸̡̢̡̜̭̫̙̰̜͖͈̘̹̔̄͊̎͒̊͋̉̒̀͊͐̉̄̔̈́̎̑̈́̊̆̏͆̎̈́̓͑̄̕̚͘ͅS̴̢̢̡̨̧͕̗̼͍̼̮̦̯̣̻̟̘̭̠̆́̀̋̋̀͆̃̅̍̍͑̐̅̓́̌̏̚ ̶̡͕͉̭͕̠̥͙̟̱͇͙̯͍̤̠̥̭̩̫͚̙̉̑̂̇̀̏͝T̵̢̛͍̞̱̪̙̜̰̟͈͚͙͔̲̩͎͖̫̗̗̘̲̬̐̍̓̂̐̇̅̅̈́͊̑̃̀͗̀̇̏͒̀̒̂̅̒̚͘͜͜͝͠͝ͅI̷̛̱̫͙̓͐̍͑̃͒̍͛͂͌͒̂̓́̐͑̈̏̾̄̈́̆̋͊̒̊Ḿ̴̡̡̧̛̛̪̰͈̥͇̬̹̱͍̗͚͎̘̻̺̻̠̤̣̆̎͗̏̐̄̄̎́͐͒̀͋̆̎̒̍͗̆̈́̀͐͑̚̕͜͝͝͝ͅE̸̻͕̩̰̭͙̓̍́̍́̓̓̎̀̚͝ͅ ̴̧̢̧̖̺͍̝̘̝̦̝͔͙̱̻͎̗̟̣͉͉̭͊̅̿̀̃͆̒̎͆̀͜ͅͅF̷̧̫͖̬̮̟̹̘̞̪̦̩̤͊̈́̾̀̉͋̎̌͆̏O̵̧̨̨͔̭̳͇͎̯̤̩̮̤̣̭̝̣̣͚͔͌͒̓̊͋̍͊͒̅͑̉̃̑͗́̀̀̐̎̀͒̀̌̎̕̕̕͜͠͠͠Ŗ̸̷̧̛̹̞̼̰̺̼͇̠̖̺̇̌͆̑̾́̓̏̒̿̀̂̃͠͠ Ä̸̔͗͊͐̓͗̔͋̓́͋̊̀ ̷̨̧̮̟͙̩̱̣̬̤͙̞̲̲͑̂̈̉̆̓̿́͂̀̽̒̾̅̾̾̓̒̈̆̅͠͝͝͝͝Ȟ̴̡̡̛̙͕̩͓̻͎̱̭͎͎͈̰̤̭̣̰̤͆̃̇͆̈̽͗͌̏̓̾̂̌̈́̒̀̒̉̓̒͋͊̚͘͝͠Ã̴̻̘͍̦̳͇͖̥̙̠͚͐̉̌̈́̃̃͒̄̋́͋͂̑͠U̴̢͈͉̤̖̫͔͇̖̘̟̥̟̰̪͓͚͈̟̅̒̊͜͝ͅͅŅ̶̢̡̢̢̢̝̦͚̱̦̪̩̖̻̳̲̭͙̗͖͈͚̓͊͌̅́̈́Ţ̴͙̥̪̭̝̤͉̝͓̬̫̼͋͂̒̾͂̽̀̈́͘͘

That was a “nope” from Tommy as he finally started running as fast as he could. And judging from noises behind him, something was coming after him. Slowly, steady but it definitely was coming. And he didn’t like that. Running, he slipped and fell down the stairs, hitting his head badly, but managed to get out just as the basement door closed behind him.

This palce was either fucking haunted or they had the worst rat problem humanity have ever heard of.

Phil kneeled behind him, sadly looking at the closed door. He saw him. He saw his son, roaring with fury. How different he looked from that photograph… but it was his son. His pride and joy, slowly turning into bloodthirsty animal. Sadness flew through him, but he tried to turn his attention to Tommy. Poor boy was fidgeting from fear, holding his head. He must have hit it… If he could only ease the pain just slightly, but he couldn't even touch the boy. Instead he placed his hands where teenagers shoulders were, trying to pretend to cheer him up, care for him.

Tommy felt something warm touching his shoulders, filling him with peace and feeling of safety. Then he started sobbing like when he was five.