Muse and Misfortune

III

"Be careful when you go down there!" Eliza called as Marshall headed down to the basement. "The lights don't work too well, and it's kind of a mess."

Marshall nodded, though she probably couldn't see. He never went down into his own basement. It might have been something to do with the fact that he absolutely did not want to be alone in a dark, enclosed space. Though now he'd been in an attic that wasn't even his own, so what much more was there to fear?

He descended the steps into the basement, clutching the flashlight tightly in his hand. He felt the wall around him for the light. It might not work, but there was nothing wrong with more light if it did.

He found the light, and it turned on with a click. It must have been old; it warmed slowly, lighting the center of the space with a fluorescent yellow glow.

Marshall looked around the basement. It wasn't really a mess. There were some old furniture, a few more boxes. But they were off to the side, not crowding the rest of the space.

He stepped towards the center, hoping to be more in the light. He hated the way the voices sounded here. They weren't as loud, which should have been great, but now they sounded like whispers, slithering sinisterly into his ears.

And they were coming from everywhere around him. It sounded as if they were echoing. It made him feel very, very small. He almost expected to see glowing eyes as he looked into the dark spaces the light wasn't able to illuminate. The light in the basement flickered, and he flinched instinctively, his grip now so tight on the flashlight that his hands felt numb.

What if the voices weren't from Eliza's things? What if it was a creature, hiding in the walls of her house, tormenting her? Marshall could almost imagine it, see its faint outline in the dark. A large beast, with claws that were twice as large as his hands, that would reach out and draw him into the darkness forever...

Curse his overactive imagination.

There was nothing in the dark. He said it to himself, multiple times.

Marshall stepped directly under the light. It had finally warmed up enough that he could see the entire room, though the perimeter was still somewhat dark and blurry.

There were boxes against the wall, and he shined the flashlight directly at them. He walked carefully, quietly, over to the boxes.

Suddenly, there was a crunch beneath his feet, and he jumped out of the way, swinging the flashlight around wildly. He looked down at what he'd stepped on, already dreading what he would find. A broken skeleton?

Stop it. That wasn't what it was.

It was a piece of paper.

It was crumpled, like the ones lying on the floor in his own house. If he hadn't been so on edge he might have laughed. He stepped on papers all the time. They never turned out to be the cracked skeletons of tiny creatures crawling around.

He knelt down, setting the flashlight upright beside him. He picked up the paper. Marshall uncrumpled the paper, smoothing it out on the floor. It looked like the papers Eliza had out in the living room, though this one was only half-covered in ink. Her handwriting was small and scrawly, and he didn't want to read it if it wasn't meant for him, but maybe Eliza had accidentally dropped it. He folded the paper neatly and slipped it into his pocket. He'd give it to her later after he was done looking in the basement. Which, hopefully, would be soon.

The basement light flickered and died out. He couldn't stop himself from drawing in a sharp breath. The glow from the flashlight was still sharp and bright, but it had startled him. Hopefully, the flashlight wouldn't die out either.