by Kelly Trickett

Created on: November 06, 2008

"The extra bulbs are down in the basement, Davey. Please go get them."

Was his mother nuts? Down in the basement? Davey hated the basement. It had spooked him ever since he could remember. But now, having arrived at the noble and mature age of eight years old, he could hardly tell her he was too scared, could he? He would look like a wimp; worse, a baby, and that was just intolerable. There was no help for it but to go and get the bulbs.

Davey pictured the basement in his mind. The steep wooden steps, the one lone bare bulb hanging from above the stairway that did nothing to dispel the gloom. Then there was the horrible, musty odor that smelled like a combination of old mildew, dank dirt, and something dead. The old dirt floor always reminded Davey of the movies that were about some crazy guy who always buried his victims in the basement. The boxes and boxes of stuff and the sheet covered furniture, as well as all the odd bric-a-brac that had fallen out of boxes gone too soft with moisture always cast strange shadows, and they always seemed to Davey to be perfect hiding spots for a monster or serial killer. The tiny, dirt-streaked window panes that were up near the roof were the only light, and they only seemed to add to the atmosphere and gloom rather than dispel it.

As Davey stood still, picturing the basement and trying to gather his courage to go down there, the monster in the basement hid behind the boxes, imagining how good Davey would taste. He had been living down in the basement for only a few weeks now, entering through one of the window panes that wasn't latched properly. His sense of smell was highly acute and he could smell the fresh, tender flesh of little boy above him. Managing the door to the basement was beyond the capability of his large, scaled paws, however. His talons were too long and sharp to get a grip on the doorknob, so he would have to wait for Davey to come to him. Suddenly, he sniffed the air. The boy was coming to the basement door. Drooling in anticipation, the saliva dripping down his long, yellowed fangs, the monster crept closer to the stairwell.

A Narrow Escape

"Davey, have you gotten the bulbs yet?"

"I'm going right now. I had to go to the bathroom first."

Davey screwed up his courage and began to walk to the basement door. After all, there was nothing down there really. Sure it was a little spooky and it stank, but monsters were not real and serial killers didn't live in Davey's town, everyone knew that. At least, there had been no reported murders, ever, so far as Davey knew, and he was pretty sure a serial killer wouldn't be able to help himself. Besides, the park would be a better place to wait for people to kill than Davey's stinky old basement. Davey kept telling himself it was all his imagination and there was nothing to fear all the way to the basement door. He gripped the handle tightly and slowly began to turn the knob.

The monster heard the knob being gripped. At last, at last! He was sooo hungry! The boy would now be his. Unable to wait down in the gloom of the basement any longer, the monster silently crept up the basement stairs. As soon as the door opened, he would snatch the boy's arm and pull him down the stairs and begin feasting.

Davey told himself not to be such a chicken and just open the door, get the bulbs, and get out. As the door slowly began to open, Davey heard his father yell," I put the bulbs in the garage last week, Davey. Go get them."

Relieved, Davey slammed the basement door shut and ran for the garage. The monster keened, so close, so close. Davey might have had a narrow escaper this time, but eventually

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