Til Death Do Us Part

Chapter 7

I stepped out into the hallway, listening intently. Total silence. I snuck my way down the hall and to the stairs. I crept down them. I was moving slowly and cautiously even though I knew I was alone. For all I knew, Eddie had booby-trapped the house in case I tried to escape while he was gone. I had to be careful.

I paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking around the living room. The lights were off downstairs and it was gloomy because all the windows were boarded over. There was just barely enough light coming in through the tiny window in the top of the front door (the only one not covered) to allow me to see. It was eerie seeing the deserted, shadowy living room that resembled the set from Til Death Do Us Part. For some unexplainable reason, it reminded me of a long-abandoned but perfectly preserved home in a post-apocalyptic movie. I spotted a lamp on an end table . I quickly turned it on.

The first thing I did was look around for a phone. I didn't see one. Then I went to the front door and tried opening it. As I had expected, it was locked. I glanced at the plywood-sealed windows on either side of it. I began to look around for something I could use to try prying them open, or even better -- a spare key to the front door. I opened the drawers of a bureau to find them empty. Totally empty. I spied a small desk in the corner of the living room and checked its drawers -- also completely empty.

It didn't make any sense! There were no personal items of any kind, no junk mail or bills or correspondence or any of the odds-and-ends you'd expect to find in a typical living room drawer. It was as if everything was just a hollow prop that existed solely to fulfill Eddie's delusion of being part of the Til Death Do Us Part universe.

The kitchen. Maybe there was something in there I could use.

I went in. The four department store mannequins -- I wondered if he'd brought them home from the mall he worked at -- that had been made to look like the Glovers were still seated at the table. They seemed to be staring in my direction. It gave me the creeps.

I spotted another door I hadn't noticed the first time I'd been in the kitchen. Like the two doors upstairs, it was securely locked with a padlock. I assumed it went down to the basement.

I looked through the kitchen cabinets and drawers. Basic cookware and dishes and utensils. I noticed there were no knives or other sharp objects. He must have stashed them somewhere else. I looked in the fridge. I gagged. All the food in it was moldy and stank. The expiration date on the bottle of curdled milk was last December. I quickly shut the fridge, then looked in the freezer. All it contained were frozen dinners.

I glanced down the hall that lead to the garage. I entered it. I tried the door to the garage. Unsurprisingly, it was locked. I saw another door and opened it. It was a combination laundry room/pantry. Washer and drier. Shelves stocked with canned food. Nothing else. This room didn't have a window.

Where the fuck did this guy keep his tools? Maybe there was a shed outside. Or they were down in the basement. In which case, I was screwed.

Dejected, my mission a failure, I turned and went back into the kitchen, intending to return to "my" room and wait for Eddie to come home and "take me to the Prom." Halfway across the floor...I froze.

I'd heard something.

I listened. Nothing. I must have imagined it.

Then I heard it again...a barely audible sound I couldn't identify. I looked around the kitchen. The sound came again. I looked at the padlocked door I assumed led to the basement. The sound seemed to be coming from that direction. I pressed my ear against the door and listened.

A moment of silence...then I heard it, more clearly now. I felt my blood curdle in my veins.

It was a groan. A low, muffled groan made by what was unmistakably a human voice. It was coming from down below.