The Unknown

Chapter 9

         I stepped back, facing the darkness leading down the steps. The smell of smoke mixed with the cold air luring me in. I took a step towards the opened door, my toes at the edge of the kitchen tile, leading to the first step below. Cold fingers danced up my arms, giving me chills. Goose bumps formed around my body. The fingers seemed to grip around my wrist, lightly tugging, attempting to bring me down the steps.

        "Um. I wouldn't advise to go down there," said J, fear was in his voice. It shook out of his mouth.

        There was a slap heard from behind me with J's 'ouch' in response. 

        I began to step down, feeling the first stair of the basement steps. The room was too dark to see anything. The only light came from the last few hours of day from the kitchen.

        "Hey I brought a flash light!" said V, switching it on. The first thing that came to view was a melted bottle-looking-object. Possibly a canister that held some sort of liquid. I reached my hand back for V to give me her flashlight. 

        Her footsteps came close behind me, wanting to join me into the new found extension to the house. 

        I inched down another step, the surface was cold and clammy under my feet. Uncomfortable. The only feeling I had was of uneasiness. The unknown stench filled my nostrils as I decended step by step, continuing into the darkness. I turned my head to see if either of them were coming down. V was directly behind me. J was standing in the door frame, nausea ran across his face. 

        The stench grew unbearable. I covered my mouth and nose with my free hand. The flashlight grazed across the walls onto the floor. It was a melted canister. Red. The only readable letters were 'gaso'

        "Gasoline?" questioned V, examining what was left of the canister. She took ahold of the flashlight from me, shining it to the right of us. Reminants of what to seemed to be a wooden lay on the floor, charred. Next to it was a small sheet of burned cloth.

        "Was there a fire down here?" J's voice appeared behind us, startling both V and myself. I walked over to the burned remains on the other side of the basement and kneeled down. My fingers grazed over them, feeling a burning sensation escape from the pieces into my fingers. She smell of fire and blood filled my nose. The ammonia completely disappeared. 

        There was one scent that was left.

        The smell of death and decay.

        I could sense V and J feelings of uneasiness. I could sense the decrease in temperature of their bodies. Their heart rate accelerating. Fear overwhelming their bodies. J broke the silence by throwing up. V backed up in disgust. 

        Their heart beats filled my head. Then there was silence, once again. An odd luring sensation led me to the opposite corner of the basement. I took the flashlight from V and shined it.

        A closet. 

        With every step I took, the familiar feeling of pain shot through my body. My eyes began to water. My breathing became sparse and shallow. Standing in front of the door, I shined the flash light around the perimeter of the door.

        The bottom of the door had a gap in between the floor and the bottom of the door, old smoke marks loomed and danced up onto the door up to the handle and stopped.

        I slowly reached for the knob, terrified what would be behind it. Voices in my head were muffled and there was a sharp ringing in my ears. I knob was cold. I stood there for a few seconds, but only felt like an eternity.

        "Go on." V said with reassurance.

        "Open it!" J said with a new found anticipation.

        My hand shook turning the knob slowly, easily giving.

        Opened, I looked into the dark closet. Too dark to really see anything. If there was anything. I debated whether or not to uncover what was in there. 

        'NO,' screamed a voice from up the stairs. I shined the light to the opening from the kitchen. There was nothing there. Nothing visible. I turned back looking at V and J. Their eyes were wide open looking into the closet. 

        "Anyone hear that?" I asked them. No response. They just stood there and stared. I waved my hands in front of their faces, trying to get their attention. Not even a blink came from either of them.

        I proceeded to turn around to look into the closet to find what they were looking at.

        It was huddled in a corner. The skin seemed dry, smoked, and decaying. The hair was too brittle, almost gone. Some bone shown through the feeble joints. The hands covered its face. Clothing tattered and seemed some how moth eaten. Everything seemed too stiff.

        Then it actually hit me.

        I was staring at myself.

        Dead. . .