Leneyzsha Dennis
Spooky Story Contest Winner
“Tell me about the hole in the basement,” Simmy demanded.
“The hole in the basement? Are you talking about the one towards the back wall?” Tara asks.
“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while. I just didn’t know how.” Simmy said sheepishly.
“It’s just some stupid hole that’s been there for ages.” Tara rolled her eyes. Tara and Simmy were walking home with bags of unopened candy for the trick-or-treaters later that night. The frigid October air kissed their cheeks. Orange, red, and yellow leaves fell around them, crunching under their feet. The houses decorated with ghosts, skeletons, and monsters loomed over them. The wind blew the barren trees forcing them to creak.
“You don’t know why that’s down there?” Simmy wondered.
“No idea, my mom told me this one story about it, but it’s not important.” Tara sighed. “Oh? Do tell,” Simmy said excitedly.
Simmy grabbed onto the arm of Tara’s jacket, batting her lashes at her. Tara looked at her friend who had suddenly stopped them from walking. Simmy’s eyes grew wide staring deep into Tara’s. Her lips puckered into a pout. This was a new tactic Simmy had used on Tara recently. She had started doing this every time she wanted something. It had worked so far and hadn’t failed her yet. Simmy and Tara met the month before at the start of the school year. They were in the same 9th-grade homeroom and science class. Both girls were paired up for a science lab and became friends instantly.
Tara would invite Simmy over to hang out and vice versa. Both Simmy and Tara were inseparable in a short amount of time. At the age of 14, both girls were not interested in things most girls their age were into, like boys and reality television. They both enjoyed mystery and horror, even if it scared Simmy to the core. Recently Simmy’s new mystery was the hole in Tara’s basement. She would go down to the basement with Tara to get some items or help her put things down there. She had always wondered what it could be. She didn’t want to be nosy, but her curiosity got the best of her.
“Fine, but you better not blame me for your stupid nightmares.” Tara teased. “What are we 5? Girl, I think I can handle a scary story.” Simmy laughed. Tara put her arm around Simmy, crushing her into her side.
“Tara, my silk press dammit I just got it done yesterday!”
“Should’ve done the box braids that I told you to do instead.” Tara teased. Simmy wriggled out of Tara’s grasp quickly fixing her hair.
“Easy for you to say, I’m not sitting hours in no chair to do my hair.”
“Whatever, do you want to hear the story or keep worrying about your hair?” Tara asked. “You know what I want,” Simmy smirked.
“Alright bet. So boom, there was this guy named Rowan--”
“Rowan? What kind of name is that?”
“Girl shut up, that doesn’t matter! His name is Rowan. Do you want me to tell the story or not?”
Simmy stayed silent.
“That’s what I thought. Anyways, there was this guy named Rowan--”
______________________________________________________________________________
Rowan had skipped school once again this week. He had slipped out during his lunch period, making it easier to escape school in the throng of bodies famished for food. He hated being at school and saw no point in going. He felt as though he was too smart for his classes. Rowan always got the work done. He just would never show up. The only problem was how his
mother would react to him being home early once again. At this point would she even care? Rowan thought. It’s the same old thing and he was running out of excuses to tell her. That was if she was even home.
It was very sunny and warm in his neighborhood, especially in mid-October. Rowan was admiring the falling leaves as they covered the stretch of street in a blanket of reds and oranges. The frigid air was biting at his exposed hands. He didn’t care though. Fall was his favorite time of year. He loved the chilly weather, the changing of the trees, and even the Halloween season. Finally making it home, Rowan saw his mother’s black SUV parked in the driveway. Damn. He was hoping she wouldn’t be home. He walked up the modern Victorian stairs of his house trying to come up with any excuse. Or maybe trying to figure out a plan to escap-- ______________________________________________________________________________
“Can you just get to the point already? We don’t need to know his whole back story, you know,” Simmy said impatiently.
“I was getting there! You’re the one who asked me to tell the story.” Tara huffed. “Yeah but can we speed it up --.”
Simmy was cut off by a black crow swooping down from one of the trees. It was headed right towards her. The crow flew around the girls’ heads. Tara stood in front of Simmy trying to shoo the black mass of feathers away from them. She used the bag of candy to try and hit the crow.
“Go away you stupid bird!” When they realized the crow was not going to let up they ran.
They screamed with terror and laughter. Tara’s braids whipped behind her trying to outrun Simmy who was already ahead of her. They rounded a corner, finally losing the crow. Both girls panted, trying to catch their breaths. Simmy and Tara locked eyes for a moment, then started laughing.
“What the heck? That crow came out of nowhere” Tara said between gasping for air and laughter.
“I can’t even understand what just happened, but at least we’re closer to home.” Simmy scanned around them just to make sure the crow wasn’t around.
“That was so weird, but now I must cut the story short.” Tara sighed.
“Well just skip some parts,” Simmy suggested.
They continued walking, shortly forgetting the crow.
“Okay, where was I? Oh yes, he went into the house. His mother was nowhere to be found. He heard noises in the basement and he went to go check it out--”
______________________________________________________________________________ Rowan had heard noises coming from the basement.
“Mom?” he called out. There was no answer. He didn’t go down to the basement very often. It had creeped him out ever since he was a kid. He would get goosebumps. All he knew was that his father disappeared into the basement, or that’s what his kid brain had convinced him of. His mother said he had left the house one night and never looked back. His mother had never been the same after he left. She would talk to herself, and stare into nothing. She seemed to have been in a deep depression. His mother never spoke badly about his father, she still spoke about him with tenderness. Rowan could never bring himself to forgive his father for leaving them without a word.
“Mom?” Rowan walked to the open basement door. The lights were on, still no answer. He went through the door and walked down the stairs. The old wooden stairs creaked under his weight as he made his descent. Upon reaching the bottom, his skin felt a little damp. He could not tell if it was from the moisture in the air or sweat from nerves. The basement smelled of mildew and decay, the dust tickling the hairs of his nostrils causing him to sneeze. Rowan scanned the basement, no signs of his mother anywhere. I could have sworn I heard something down here. There was nothing but boxes and shelves containing old pictures, clothes, and knick-knacks from a life that no longer existed.
There were crumbled pieces of cement on the ground. The walls which were once painted white, were chipping from decay and black mold. Up on the wooden rafters, there were clouds of webs housing the eight-legged creatures that created it. They surrounded the dingy lightbulbs. Rowan walked toward the back of the basement, further inspecting the place. He noticed something strange, the hole that was usually covered was uncovered. The circular grayish cement slab was leaning up against the wall. The slab had cracks and dirt caked onto it.
Rowan walked over to the hole cautiously, not expecting a black abyss in front of him. He hadn’t thought it was a real hole. He always believed it was more cement or dirt under the slab. Rowan searched the shelf next to him in hopes of finding a flashlight. Luckily for him, he did. The lights began to blink on and off, quickly he rushed to turn on the flashlight. As the lights were flickering, something moved in the corner of Rowan’s eye. Looking in that direction he thought he’d seen a woman. “Mom?” he shined the light at the spot, but there was no one there.
He heard a faint clatter from the hole, at the same time the lights went out. He was in the dark, the flashlight his only source of light. Walking back to the hole he shined the light into it. There was a ladder leading deep down into the pit. Am I going to do this right now? Rowan
scanned the rest of the basement with the flashlight, the only other source of light coming from upstairs. Turning back to the hole, Rowan started his descent down the ladder-- ______________________________________________________________________________
“See I don’t understand why he went to investigate. I would have dashed back upstairs after seeing that figure.” Simmy said.
“Simmy can you please not interrupt we were getting to the good part,” Tara complained.
“I know but I am just saying. Can you pass me the Twix?”
Tara and Simmy were sitting in Tara’s kitchen putting the candy they had bought in a bowl. The crow that had chased them completely forgotten.
“I am saying this right now. You do it again and I am done telling the story.” Tara huffed. “Okay, okay I’m sorry you can continue.” Simmy sighed.
“Rowan started down the ladder --”
______________________________________________________________________________ Rowan jumped down from the last foothold. His feet landed on dirt. He circled the place with the flashlight, he had been about 10 feet below ground. The walls were made of dirt with some muddy spots. Rowan could hear water dripping from multiple places. There were bugs of all kinds down there. He pointed the flashlight straight ahead, there was a dark pathway. He could not see anything beyond it. The logical part of him told him to turn around and go back up the ladder. While the curious side of him wanted to walk down that path.
In the direction of the pathway, Rowan heard a clatter of metal. For him that meant he wasn’t alone. Who could be down here? His mother? There couldn’t be any possible way for her to know that this was down here. Unless she did know. How long was this even down here?
Rowan didn’t care, he continued forward. Maybe Dad did disappear in the basement after all, he thought. The place was eerily quiet, his footsteps deafening to his ears.
Rowan didn’t know how long he was walking; it felt like an eternity to him. The pathway was long, leading to god knows where. The temperature had dropped significantly, he could see a ghost of his breath. Goosebumps started forming on his arms. Rowan wanted to stop, he could have turned back the way he came. He should have turned back yet he didn’t. A few feet ahead, he saw a small black ball and something shiny. Getting closer he soon realized that it was not just any black ball, it was moving. He could see that it had feathers and a beak. It was a crow and next to it lay a knife with a black wooden handle handle.
What is a crow doing down here and how did it even get here? Rowan slowed his movements, hoping to not startle the crow. The crow's black eyes stared at him, sitting there as if it were waiting for him. Rowan tried reaching for the blade but all he saw was the crow flying towards his face. He dodged, the crow nearly missing his eye. The crow squawked loudly and flew violently around Rowan’s head causing him to drop the flashlight. He tried batting the crow away, but he couldn’t see it.
He was fighting the bird, the locs on his head fell around his face as he desperately tried to pick up the fallen flashlight. The bird swooped down one more time before disappearing. Rowan was on all fours on the ground. The adrenaline pumping through his veins, he grabbed the flashlight and the knife with shaking hands. As he rose to his feet, in his peripheral he saw a black figure. Rapidly, he turned the light in the direction of the being. Once again no one was there. His heart was beating against his ribcage, his stomach clenched, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
He heard a pair of footsteps behind him faintly, Rowan sprung into action running further into the darkness, making sure not to cut himself on the blade of the knife. He had hoped he would lose whatever or whoever was coming this way. The once spacious pathway started to narrow, he could see a faint light in the distance. Finally an end to this place. Rowan couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore. He turned the flashlight off just in case, submerging himself in the blackness of his surroundings.
Rowan followed the distant light wondering where it would lead him. Wondering who he would find down there. Walking somewhat blindly the rest of the way, the cool air started to get warmer the closer he got to the light. Finally reaching the end, Rowan could see a door that was left slightly ajar. He could see that it was a room lit with candles. Cautiously he opened the door to a room lined with old books. The room was spacious. There were shelves upon shelves of books and items. In the middle of the room, there was a stone table. The room appeared to be sacrificial.
He walked around the room, not touching anything. On one of the tables, he saw a book opened to a gruesome picture of someone being sacrificed. He went to turn the page, but before he could he heard wings flapping. Rowan turned to find the black crow being held by someone. It was his mother, or what appeared to be his mother. She was shorter than him with long tight
curls. Her dark brown skin glowed in the dimly lit room. The once warm eyes that Rowan knew were cold towards him.
“Mom?” he sighed. Putting the flashlight and the knife down, Rowan tried reaching for his mother. She flinched away from his outstretched hands taking a few steps back. The crow in her arms squawking. Rowan was confused by the way she was acting towards him, it was as if
she didn’t recognize him. “Mom, it’s me, Rowan.” He tried touching her again, once more she moved away from him.
“We’ve been expecting you for a while now,” she said in a low tone. Stroking the head of the crow.
She didn’t sound like herself. The once light velvety voice she had sounded scratchy and rough. Rowan noticed that his mother, or what appeared to be his mother, was not well. There were sores on her arms snaking their way up to her face. Her bloodshot eyes were sunken in, pupils heavily dilated. He took a step back from her, she stepped forward. “Mom, what’s wrong with you?” His voice shaking.
“What do you mean baby? I feel perfectly fine. I am just a little hungry is all,” she smirked.
Rowan continued back looking between his mother and the knife. Her predatory eyes watched him closely.
“You know you’re father was in the same position you are in. He wanted to know what was wrong with me. How he could help. What he should do. He was even worried about your safety, not even his own.”
“Mom, what are you talking about? Please help me to understand what is going on here!” Rowan screamed at her.
She just laughed at him not responding to any of his pleas. Rowan took that as his opportunity to reach for the knife, he was not fast enough. His mother grabbed him by the wrist slamming him into one of the bookshelves. The knife held at the base of his neck, if he moved even a fraction of a centimeter the blade would pierce his skin. The breath was knocked out of him. His body was paralyzed by fear. “What do you want from me?” he pleaded.
“I want to eat.”
______________________________________________________________________________ “Long story short he ended up dying. She killed him.” Tara said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Wow, he should have just ignored the sound and minded his business. Or he should have just stayed at school. The situation was avoidable.” Simmy commented.
“Yeah but if he didn’t do that, there would be no story to tell and he probably wouldn't have known the truth about his dad.” Tara reasoned.
“I guess. Was she a vampire? A dead entity? A demon?”
“Mom says Rowan’s mom was a witch who eats the flesh of humans every few years to survive. Something about a ritual that backfired a long time ago and punished her. I’m not too sure about the details,” Tara shrugged her shoulders.
They both fell silent. Simmy and Tara were still in the kitchen, picking through the candy. Simmy scanned the kitchen, her eyes landing on the picture of a younger Tara, her mother, and her older brother on the fridge. Tara’s mom worked overnights, so Simmy never got to meet her. Tara usually cooked both of them dinner before Simmy went home. Tara’s mother was beautiful. She had long curly hair, nice smooth brown skin, and light brown eyes. Tara resembled her mother a lot, except her curly hair was in box braids. As for Tara’s brother, he had dark brown eyes with the same brown skin. Tara didn’t talk much about her brother, the only thing Simmy knew of him was that he disappeared a few years ago. Tara walked over to the pantry and disappeared into it.
“Are you sure she was a witch? Witches don’t need blood to survive Tara, those are vampires,” Simmy said, breaking the silence.
“Are you sure about that?” Tara shouted from the pantry.
“Okay, explain how she would get humans into her little lair.”
Tara walked out of the pantry with two boxes.
“Well, she has her familiar keep watch outside of the house. And every few years or so she would scope someone out to physically bring her food,” Tara said nonchalantly. Simmy laughed nervously, noticing Tara’s shift in tone. She couldn’t tell if Tara was just telling it for the sake of the story or being serious. Tara burst out laughing at Simmy’s nervous face.
“I’m only joking, who even knows what she was? Like I said before, it’s just a story Mom told me.” Tara dropped the boxes on the floor making Simmy flinch. “Alright Sim, I need your help taking these boxes downstairs. We should also see if the hole is really a hole.” Tara wiggled her brows at Simmy.
“Oh no no no. I don’t think so. I am not doing that!” Simmy exclaimed.
“Come on Sim, please? I want to check it out but I don’t want to do it alone.” Tara gave Simmy pleading eyes, hoping Simmy would say yes. Simmy tried looking away not wanting to give in. But she couldn’t deny a good mystery, despite the fear flaring up in her.
“Okay fine but if some freaky stuff happens I’ll be running back up the stairs.” She said defeated.
Tara squealed at her response. She hugged Simmy. Both girls pick up a box each and trek to the basement. With one hand Tara opened the door, turning on the light. Both girls pause at the top of the stairs. One glancing at the other. It’s not the first time they have been down there, but now there is a sort of anticipation and excitement waiting for them. They slowly made their way
down the stairs. Once at the bottom, Tara guided them to a corner to put the boxes in. As Simmy was putting the box down, the hair on the back of her neck started to rise. She felt as if someone was watching her. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone in the distance. Quickly she turned her head in that direction. There was nothing there.
Standing up, she saw Tara already standing at the back of the basement staring at her expectantly. Maybe that’s what I was feeling. She thought. Simmy walked to the back of the basement to join Tara. They stood in front of the circular cement slab that was embedded into the cemented floor.
“Stay here,” Tara instructed Simmy.
Tara went behind a shelf and pulled out a flat wooden stick. She went to place the stick in a groove of the circular cement.
“Are we actually doing this and where did that stick even come from?” Simmy asked cautiously.
“No more questions. I want to see what's under this thing. Aren’t you just a little bit curious?” Tara asked.
“I am, I just -- I don’t know Tara. This is giving me the heebie jeebies.”
“Are you being a chicken right now? It is just a story.” Tara challenged Simmy. Simmy pursed her lips shaking her head no.
“Good, let’s see what’s under here.”
Without waiting for Simmy’s reply, Tara pressed down on the stick. Making sure it was lodged under the circular slab. It started to lift. After standing there for a moment, Simmy shook her head, swallowed her fear, and went to help Tara. She got down on her hands and knees lifting
the slab from its position. Slowly the girls worked together to push the slab out of the way. When they completely removed it from its spot a hole was revealed to them.
“Oh my god it’s real,” Simmy whispered.
“We did it, we found it!” Tara exclaimed.
Simmy leaned over the hole hoping to see the bottom. There was nothing but darkness. She tilted her head to make out any sound, she could hear faint drips of water. At that moment, the dread started to sink in. Simmy could feel something was wrong. She tried getting up, but before standing she heard, “I’m sorry.” Simmy could not respond. Her body was already falling, the only thing she could manage was a scream. Tara stood there listening to Simmy’s screams until she heard a thud. It was silent for a moment.
“Tara? Tara? Oh god, I think I broke something!” Simmy screamed from below. “Tara, help me I think I am bleeding! Please answer me!” Simmy cried.
Tara ignored her, she reached for the slab dragging it to the hole, tears streaming down her face.
“Tara, I think something is down here! Tara? Tar--” Simmy’s words cut off into a blood-curdling scream.
Tara tried to block out the scream. As she tried to cover the hole, a black blur flew out. Tara ignored it, pushing the concrete slab back in its place. She stood tall, dusting herself off. She violently wiped her tears. The only friend she had was sacrificed to a bloodthirsty monster. Tara had not intended to get close to Simmy, it was inevitable due to their similar interests. She should have known better. The crow flew over to her, perching itself on her shoulders. “Are you happy now?” Her vision went blurry as the warm liquid trailed down her cheeks. She gave the hole one last final look before turning to the stairs and going back up.
Kommentarer