The strange, unexpected, & supernatural

The basement (Ellie Armstrong)

*Warning - Murder/Violence

My Uncle always said my parents left me because they never loved me.  I believed in him without thinking.

Our relationship is pretty casual.  We're not best friends, not worst enemies either.

I bring in decent grades.  When they're not up to par, he understands I study hard and try my best, so it works out.

"Nobody's perfect," he'd say.  "Don't listen to these bastards dictate your life or try to tell you what to do, alright?"

Billie's been my legal guardian since I was 5.  I used to ask if I could call my parents or contact them, but he forbade me.  I was so young when they gave me up.   I didn't know their names and barely recalled their faces.  There's not a single photo of them here.  I stopped asking anything amid them when I turned 10.  I also stopped asking about the basement.

I've never been down there.  It's been locked for as long as I can remember and I've never seen Billie down there either.  That's his only rule:  Don't go in the basement.

Have I remained suspicious to this day? Who wouldn't?

I frequently contemplate what could be down there:  Gold, jewels, property deeds... my Uncle isn't cool enough to own anything beyond that.

"Ellie?"  His deep voice switches my attention from my book to him on my door frame.  "I have to go to the bank, I'll be back in a few hours, okay?"

I nod.

"Do you want anything?"

"No.  Can I borrow your over-ear headphones?  Mine are charging."

"Uhh, yeah.  They're in the bedroom on my desk," and he leaves.

Normally, when he's out, I'd remain in this spot, listening to music until he gets back.  I don't do it while he's here in case he calls me downstairs or something.  I heard the door close and went into his room across the hall.  The black Beats headphones sat on his desk.  I pick them up and am about to leave when something shiny catches the corner of my eye, making me stop.  I'm not one for messing with people's property, but implicitly, I put the headphones back and kneel to the bed, pulling out a box from underneath.  It's a shiny black tin, almost equivalent to a lunchbox.  I flip the lid open to reveal a tiny, silver key.

Hmm, I wonder...

I close the box and slide it back under the bed, heading downstairs to the basement door.  The key fits into the lock easily and I turn it, opening the door outward.  An awful smell floods my olfactory and I cover it with my arm, lightly gagging.  I should've locked the door. I should've returned the key to its place and gone back to my room, I know.

My body moves on its own, descending the steps with my arm over my face, the other hand on the railing.  The smell exacerbates.  I let my arm go and bunch my shirt, placing it over my nose like a makeshift mask.  The air inside is freezing, getting colder going down.  There aren't any windows.  The light from upstairs illuminates a switch on the wall beside me when I reach the bottom.

I flip it on.

I wish I hadn't.

There laid the bodies of a man and a woman.  Their skin rotted to create yellow splotches, and prompt some bone exposure.   My eyes dilate. I feel like I'm gonna vomit.

I dash upstairs, nearly tripping on the last step, and lean against a wall beside the door, heaving. The mental picture lingered.

The door slams shut, but not by me.  I sharply turn to Billie's hand on the now-closed door. Indignation rests on his face, and heavy air expels his mouth.  His green irises burn into my frightened ones, accompanied by my shaking body with every exhale.  I can't speak. I've lost my voice.   I'm speechless.  Lost for words.

He holds up his credit card, eyes not breaking from me.  "I left this here," he says.  "And the one day I don't take the key with me..."

My fingers tremble.

"Where's your phone?"

"I-in my room."  My Instagram notification pings loud and clear from my pocket.

Billie's gaze shifts to it, offering his hand.  "Give it to me."

I hesitate.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be."  I take out my phone and steadily extend my arm.  He snatches the device from my shaking hand, scrolling through it.  "Did you contact anyone?"

"No."  He knows I don't have any friends, but I've already lied once.   I try to look behind me.  The front door is only a few feet away.

"Don't even think about it."

I look back to him, the glare indicating he knows what I'm thinking.  I shake my head.  "I won't tell anyone."

"I know."  He puts my phone in his pocket.

My feet keep me in place as we stand in silence.  Billie reaches his arm out.

"It's okay, come here, Ellie."

I stare at it, reluctantly stretching my own and he gently pulls me into a hug.

"I'll always love you, Ellie.  You know that, don't you?"  He runs his fingers through my hair.

"I know."

"It's hard, but I really hope you can forgive me."

I furrow my brows.  "For what?"

"For this."  The door opens again and Billie pushes me.

My body tumbles down the steps, and I blackout when my head collides with the floor.