And Then The Murders Began

Chapter Thirty-One: My, Ain't That A Gas?

His words are still ringing in my ears as I make my way towards the stairs, and hey, well that's a good thing, the lock on the basement door is one of those old skeleton keys that can be jiggled right out of the lock in the handle super quickly; I don't dare leave him another weapon to potentially be used against me- correction, to definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent be used against me, no thank you, I'm not willing to take that sort of a risk. This is all a trap, I know it is, and he's going to expect that I'm not expecting it and lock me in here, that's for sure... who the hell could be down here, anyways? Dammit, it's basically guaranteed that every single one of the phone lines in the house is going to be bugged, and I don't have a cell phone, and Miguel wouldn't be stupid enough to not be blocking signals out of here... lead lined, as far as I'm willing to venture...

I sneak around the other side and lock it from the back, pocketing the key, wishing I had something else to wear so that way I wouldn't be running the risk of letting the key slip out of my pocket... that might very well be my only way to get out of this mess alive- or at least mostly so, and well, I'm just gonna put in this way- for a fuckup to have made it this far when they should have died forever ago, when they should've just made the whole name thing reflexive, well then there's something going. I'm here for a reason, I haven't been allowed to croak for some reason or another and I'm not the kind of foolish fella who's about to throw that chance away at the very very first opportunity.

At first, closing the door, I wonder whether there's actually anything down here, all I can see is a back wall, blackness even despite the fact that I know that my eyes have adjusted... even despite the fact that, for a wolf, my eyes are shit and I really should be wearing glasses (at least, that's what my mother would have told me, yeah yeah whatever they're twenty/-seventy five, get over yourself, that's normal...)- and then I realise that hey, Lex, you're looking at a back wall for a reason, this thing literally is a back wall and there are vents in the ceiling (or in other words, it really wouldn't hurt to hold my breath while I'm taking this thing either up or down but screw it, if he really wants to take me out then he's gonna have to try harder than that... I mean, come on, I was a competitive swimmer for years, all the way up through ninth grade; it helped me keep my mind off of things, and hell, it was great for building up that lung capacity too...

Okay, so the buttons on here aren't gonna light up, this is meant to be a pain in the ass, but okay, there's a button, "Basement."

I press it, and nothing happens, and I press it again, and still nothing happens, and now the gears in my brain are going- okay, did I miss something or are the buttons mislabelled or something so that way it'll fuck with people like me who don't know the systems and the ways that they're all set up?

Maybe? Gods I hope not, I don't have the time to think all of it through and just try poking all of the buttons, because for a place that only seems to have three levels, the two above ground and then the basement, there sure are a whole hell of a lot of buttons on this panel-

I try poking another one, and still nothing, and I'm considering giving up; just saying 'ya know what, fuck it' and turning around and going back up to the living room and calling it quits when my eyes light on something that I should've seen a hell of a lot earlier, and now I feel like a freaking fool for having missed it- a keyhole, and would ya look at that, there's a certain little skeleton-key shaped slot in the lock... I have no idea what it's going to do, or hell, maybe it's all a trap (at least my psyche would absolutely like to think so, given just how much it's screeching in the back of my mind here and I'm getting better at controlling it, thankfully, thankfully, thankfully, but even still, it's one hell of a pain in the ass; thinking about it usually gives me chills, which is why I'm glad that this time of the year is sweater weather...