[FICTION] the man in my basement

Writing this on a smartphone was a chore. Some "i's" may not be capitalized and some spelling may be off, forgive me. It should be good, i re-read this like 4 times. Feedback is very much accepted.

Also, This story is not for the weak minded, it is graphic, as it contains detailed gore. Just a heads up.

the man in my basement, by Vokun Sivaas

I bought this house two months ago, it was a steal, twenty-thousand less than the asking price. Nobody warned me about him though, the man in my basement, I found out in time, the first time being yesterday, it was then that I met him, it was not really official, but it was all I needed to know that I was sharing this house, and had to be mindful of my "room-mate"

I was down in the basement doing laundry, my laundry room, connected to the bathroom, athwart the water heater, across from the "dark room", that room named as such due to, when opening the door, you would be met with a solid black wall of darkness, and an other-worldly sense of dread. While loading my washer, I heard breathing, erratic crazed breathing, directly behind me. Me, being mostly ignorant of everything, I did not think much of it. I continued to pack my washing machine with all sorts of dirty clothes, not aware of the fiend behind me. The breathing fades away, and all of a sudden, the door to the dark room slams shut violently, I jumped at that, almost soiled my underwear. I, out of habbit, shouted, "slam the door again and it will be the last thing you do!" I used to live with two imbeciles that could not, for their own good, shut a door quietly. That had caused me to form this "habbit" of shouting at them to stop. The door opened slowly after I yelled. The darkness of the room consumes the area around, the light from the laundry room now entirely gone.

The feind spoke,

"This is my house."

"You have no right to be here."

"The last person to take this from me parished."

I sprinted up the stairs and did not go back down there till the next day, and when yesterday became today, I took a flashlight down stairs with me. I finished my laundry with no issue. I had not really looked around down there yet. I explored a little in the dark room, there was room next to it, an even darker space at that, i clicked on my flashlight, the dust swallowed the yellow beam. Concrete walls and a metal support beam. I noticed two other doors, under the stairs, and one in the wall across from the room's doorway. I opened the wall first, literally an open concrete space where only a rusty sledge hammer sat, I was perplexed, a lone hammer standing on its head in the middle of the floor. The door under the stairs was pretty well blended in, but I could very well see it was a door, I have a knack for seeing the unseen. I wedged my little pocket knife in the thin crack of the wall. A light push and the door popped open, a raw rotten wretched smell erupts out of the little room. I gagged almost immediately. Then an old crusty bone stabbed through some papers into the door caught my eye. I yanked the bone out and examined the papers. In crude shaky writing it read,

In life, it's hard to find joy. But once you find it, it's all you want, and when you lose it, you'll do anything to reclaim it. I had this problem, the reason i write this note, and the reason to my actions. I found a partner, we were happy together. We bought a house together. We got a dog together. We had a kid together. Most importantly, we had a life together. Although that life was short lived. I made a huge mistake, i kissed our neighbor. I confessed, apologized, and begged for her to forgive me. She just left me. She took our daughter. She took our dog. She took our house. She took my joy, my happiness, my reason to live, my everything. That was a month ago. But now I have my house, my family, my joy. I broke in. I snuck up to our bedroom. I struck my wife with her bedside lamp. I taped her mouth, several layers of thick duct tape around and around her head. I went to my daughter's room. My sweet child. I didn't even knock her out. I just taped her mouth and bound her limbs to her body. I carried her to the basement while she cried. I ignored her. I dropped her on the floor of the basement. Her head hit the floor with a satisfying crack. I went back upstairs to grab my wife. I dragged her by her feet. With each step down, her head hits the previous stair. I, after some serious effort, got her to the basement. I went up to the living room for the last time, pulled the dog out of his cage and led him to the basement, he only wagged his tail. At least someone was happy to see me. I chained my wife to the main support strut in the middle of the basement room. She couldn't possibly get anywhere chained to that. And there I sat, with them on the floor, petting MY dog, in MY house, watching MY daughter cry, and waiting for MY wife to wake up.

I finally felt happy again. I had reclaimed my life.

A couple of hours had passed, a couple of hours of my daughter whimpering and trying to speak through the tape. The dog fell asleep next to me, he was dreaming, kicking his legs in his sleep. What a cute dog. My wife finally awoke. Confused, she tried to speak. I chuckled at her. She got mad. I stood up, walked over to her and kicked her, right in the jaw, you could hear her jaw bone break, and her teeth smash. God. It felt so good. She began to cry to herself. I couldnt stop the smile from creaping onto my lips. The dog didn't even flinch at the sound, he was still asleep. I looked at her. "A monster she called me. Not worthy of life. Should be dead." I thought to my self.

She still cried, tears streamed from her eyes. Calmly i spoke, "You took everything I had." "I'm going to take everything from you." That felt like the right thing to say. I looked at my little girl. Her expression was priceless. I walked to the dog and petted him, he woke up. I grabbed him by the muzzle. I lifted his head. I sank my teeth into his throat, he kicked his limbs wildly, his cries soon ended, and so did his thrashing. My daughter screamed through the tape around her mouth. I continued to chew into the dog's neck. I never thought it would feel that good to kill a live animal. I savored every drop of blood that drained into my mouth. I pulled my head away, satisfied. I reached deep into the hole I made, up to my elbow in neck. I felt something hard. I yanked on that thing as hard as I could. Bones started breaking. After a minute, a good chunk of his ribcage came out. Meat, tendons, and little fleshy tubes followed, guess i almost had his heart. I held his rib bones in my hand as I walked toward my little princess. I aimed the sharp part and jammed it into her side. She began to scream, harsh sound muffled by thick tape. I twisted the bone in her side. I spoke softly to my girl, "This is all because mommy cheated on daddy, left him, and told him he should die because daddy made a mistake." "I only kissed her, i said i was sorry." I shouted to my woman. Both their sobs were delicious. My smile grew bigger. I could feel it twisting my face. I pulled the bone out of her and dropped it. My wife was trying to free herself. I grab my girl, remove the tape from her left leg. I rolled up her pajama legging. The pristine pinkish white meat, I couldn't help myself. I bit into it, the soft skin, the lean calf. I tore the chunk out with my teeth and chewed it up as she screamed. Thank god the walls are concrete. Nice and soundproof. I swallowed what I had in my mouth and went for another bite, she tasted so, so, good, i had to have more. I lifted her shirt and exposed her stomach. Fueled by blood lust and a sort of primal hunger, I dug my nails into her tummy, over and over again. I finally saw her intestines, I shoved my face into her open gut and started biting, chewing, eating her insides. They tasted like bloody crap, I loved it. I then ate her spleen, then her liver, her lungs and finally her heart. Oh, I was satisfied. I threw my opened daughter at my wife, she lost it, screaming through her tape, thrashing around violently, trying to get our little girl off of her. I have good aim, the hole in the stomach almost completely wrapped around her face. I laughed. I walked over and kicked the corpse attached to my wife's head. A metallic ding and the sound of bones snapping rang out. The small body flopped to the floor. My wife's face was a mess of blood. It was art. I peeled the tape off. She vomited blood, teeth, and half digested slop. She moaned in pain, I tore her shirt off, then her pants. Naked. A nice sight. Bloody and bare. I kicked her in the stomach. Over and over. More blood oozed from her mouth. I knelt down and gave her a kiss, swirling my tongue around to taste her blood. I turned away after I had enough. I grabbed the dog's rib bone from the ground. I plunged it into her left breast, not deep enough to hit the heart though. I grabbed our little dead girl by her good leg. I started beating the hell out of my wife's body with her. By the time I was done, the little girls upper half was a mangled mess of meat and bone, head detached in pieces all over the floor, spine and ribs shattered, poking through the meat and clothing. I flipped her over and stretched her torso over my woman's head. And finally, I grabbed the sledge we kept down here in the next room over, I smashed every bone in her arms and legs while she screamed. The sounds she made were like no other. A sobbing scream being muffled by meat. It was beautiful. I followed up with a slam to her breast where the rib bone was and then one last hit to her head. It smashed against the beam, the girls torso jammed in the mess of her broken skull plate. I put the sledge back into the room, and sealed up the wall where the door was. It'll take someone with a good eye to see there's a door there. I write this to keep the memory and my happiness, alive. They'll most likely want this to be a secret when they sell this house, knowing "three" gruesome murders have happened here will drop the value. Not my problem. I'm hiding these papers I write on. To who ever finds this, do with this whatever you like. I'm going to bash my face against the wall till i'm dead, make it look like i was just another murder victim. I'll see you later. Also, Happy Halloween.

-The man in your basement 10/31/1959

I puked twice while reading this. I do not think I want to live here anymore. Knowing this information, who haunts this place, it changes everything. I have seen the little girl. She is horrid to look at, long white, hair empty eyes and no mouth. The man, a dark humanoid shape, a deformed face and one soul piercing abyssal white eye. No wife as of yet.

I feel I have to share this with the previous owners. I called the couple I bought this place from, invited them over to talk. They came. We sat in the living room, i asked about the house being haunted, they said yes and told me about their experiences here. I then had them read the note. They were horrified to say the least, they asked if it was a joke, I said no, the old man asked where I found it. I brought them to the door under the basement stairs. They had no idea that it was there. Then they noticed a weird smudge in the inside of the door, the old woman lost her mind and ran upstairs. It was a bloody hand print. The old man told me to call the police and that they were leaving. I did what I was told. Another hour or so and the officer should be here. The non-emergency number was the one I called. But this whole deal has me freaked out. Im not sure but i think i hear the man in my basement laughing.

Submitted October 10, 2019 at 10:40PM by VokunSivaas https://ift.tt/2AZtVBn