by Amy Cross
I pause for a moment, before shifting around and swinging my legs into the hole.
I can do this.
I'm tougher than Johnny realizes, and I can wriggle through a little hole.
Still, I hesitate for a moment, worried that I might be about to get dirty. I'm wearing one of my favorite dresses, and it's new on today. I'd hate to get even a speck of dirt on the nice clean light blue fabric, or – even worse – to snag the dress against a sharp piece of wood. At the same time, the thought of getting one over on Johnny is just too irresistible, and finally I realize that I'm definitely going to do this. I just need to summon up a little extra courage, and then I can make my way carefully to the ground floor.
And then I can sneak up the stairs behind Johnny and give him the fright of his life.
A smile curls across my lips as I realize that this is actually the best plan ever in the history of the entire world.
Finally, slowly, I start easing myself down into the hole. I quickly find a solid piece of wood that I can set my feet onto, so I lower myself even further until I'm able to make out another wooden ledge just a few feet away. I thought I'd be able to see the other end of the hole by now, or at least a hint of light, but I suppose that'll come soon enough. For now, I'm actually starting to laugh a little as I imagine how shocked Johnny will be. While taking care not to snag or rub my dress, I reach my legs down to the next ledge before lowering myself down even further.
There.
Easy.
I'm properly in the hole now, and everything is fine. I've never been much of a climber, because climbing has never seemed like a very ladylike thing to do, and because I never want to get my dresses dirty. Apparently I'm a natural, however, since I quickly manage to lower myself even further into the dark – and admittedly a little cold – hole that seems now to run much deeper through the house than I expected.
I can still do this, however.
I can still make Johnny leap out of his skin.
The next ledge is a little trickier, and I have to take extra care as I clamber down. My arms are starting to ache a little, and I'm not certain but I think there's a fine cloud of something hanging in the air. Probably sawdust, so I don't want to breathe in too deep. As I carefully climb down onto the next ledge, I peer further into the hole and see that there's still no light at the other end. I never realized the floors in this house were so thick, but I suppose maybe the hole is the entrance to some kind of old, long-since covered staircase. I'm sure there'll be an explanation, and I can ask Mummy or Aunt Alice later, but for now -
Suddenly my right foot slips and I start to fall. Gasping, I reach out and grab one of the other wooden ledges, and I just about manage to steady myself. At the same time, I feel a pain in my right shoulder, as if I stretched a muscle, and the pain gets worse as I twist myself around and finally manage to sit on one of the ledges. I set Lucy aside for a moment and look at my hands, which are now covered in faint dirty smudges.
Out of breath now, I pause for a moment, and I'm actually starting to think that I should climb back up. Getting a rise out of Johnny is one thing, but not if I end up tearing my dress or maybe even hurting myself. The idea of coming through the hole was nice, but the execution seems to be a little more difficult. Finally, with a sinking feeling, I realize that I've bitten off more than I can chew.
I turn to look up for a route to the top, but suddenly my hand brushes against Lucy. I reach down for her, but I'm too late and to my horror she tumbles over the edge, falling several meters deeper into the hole.
She lands way below, probably in the most awful dirt. There are probably bugs and everything already crawling into her mouth and ears and nose and eyes.
Sighing, I realize I now have no choice. I can't leave Lucy in such a terrible place, so I start looking around for the best route down to where she's resting. There aren't any really obvious ledges, although there's one that looks like it might just about do the job. I take a deep breath, and then I lean across, just about getting my fingertips onto the side of the ledge. This isn't going to be easy, and I'm really annoyed with myself for letting Lucy fall like that.
I pause for a moment, and then I jump over to the next ledge. I just about manage to hold on, but it takes a few seconds before I'm able to haul myself to safety. Then, when I turn and look down at Lucy, I realize that she's still a little too far down. I reach over the edge, but my fingertips are a few inches short of touching her, so I suppose I'm going to have to try to get down to the next ledge.
Twisting around, I reach my leg over the side and -
Suddenly the ledge slips beneath me, tipping me over into the hole. I cry out as I land hard against the sloping wall, but I'm too late to grab hold of anything and instead I slither down into the darkness, which seems to never end as I tumble deeper and deeper into the hole, deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper until I feel like I must have fallen all the way through the house several times over, and then just deeper and deeper and deeper as if I'll never reach the bottom.
Chapter Two
Still screaming, I finally shoot out the other end of the hole and slam against a hard, rocky chunk of ground. A huge cloud of dust puffs up all around me, and I roll onto my side as I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder.
Holding my breath for a moment, I squeeze my eyes tight shut for a few seconds before opening them again, and now I see that the cloud of dust is starting to disperse.
Slowly, I sit up and find that I'm in a dark corridor that seems to have been carved straight through a bed of dark red rocks. I look both ways, but all I see is a flickering lantern burning in a metal holder on the wall. I felt like I was falling forever, but it's pretty clear I must have somehow bypassed the house's ground floor altogether and come crashing out somewhere in the basement. I don't even know how that's possible, but the proof is all around me and there's no other explanation.
And then, with a flash of relief, I see that Lucy has come down with me and is next to my left foot. She's covered in dirt and dust, but at least she's here.
I pick her up before getting to my feet, and then I start brushing dust off my dress, only to stop as soon as I see that I've got far more than dust to worry about. The whole dress is covered in thick, dark smudges, and the fabric is torn in several places. I have to admit, I feel tears welling in my eyes as I realize that my absolute favorite dress in the whole world has been completely ruined, and that even Mummy with all her sewing skills won't be able to salvage anything from this mess.
I wipe the tears from my eyes, but it's hard to hold them back entirely. I know I shouldn't cry over something as simple as a dress, but this really has been my favorite for quite a while now and I was hoping to wear it a lot more.
“Stupid hole,” I mutter, starting to walk over to the hole but stopping as I feel a sharp pain in my right ankle.
I lean against the wall, taking some weight off the ankle, and I'm pretty sure that it must at least be badly sprained. I try to gently put it back down against the rocky ground, and sure enough I feel more sparks of pain as soon as I put even the slightest pressure on the bone. Still, at least it doesn't seem to be broken, so I suppose I've got something to thank my lucky star for.
Looking up into the hole, however, I quickly realize that climbing back up is definitely not an option. Clearly the hole became much steeper at some point, and there's absolutely no way I could ever clamber my way back up into the room. By hook or by crook, I'm just going to have to find another way out of the basement, which shouldn't be too difficult. After all, the house is large but not that large, and there has to be a door down here somewhere.
I try dusting myself off a little, but there's not really much point so finally I pick a direction at random and start limping along the corridor. With each step, however, my right ankle seems to hurt more and more, so I quickly have to stop. Looking down, I see that the ankle has a large graze on the outer side, and I'm starting to think that although it's not broken, maybe I've bruised it a litt
le. I try again to walk, but I immediately let out a whimper of pain, and finally I stop and lower myself down onto the rocky ground.
Although I try not to sit, out of hope that my dress might still be savable, the pain in my ankle is too great and I have no choice but to delicately perch on a small, flatish section of rock.
There are more tears in my eyes now and I'm starting to cry, even though I really don't want to be a baby. If Johnny comes down to the basement right now, he'll laugh his head off, but hopefully he's still waiting upstairs outside the bedroom door like an idiot.
I sniff back more tears, determined to get rid of them all before I leave the basement, but more and more are already coming. Why do I always cry when I get upset? Even when I'm not upset, sometimes the tears come anyway. Taking a deep breath, I stare at the rocky wall opposite and try to calm myself down.
When that doesn't work, I put my head in my hands and try to focus really hard.
When that doesn't work, I open my eyes again and look straight ahead.
And that's when I see that the wall has opened its eyes.
Two large, slightly yellowish eyes are staring back at me from the wall, just a few meters away. Each eye is about as wide as a person's arm, and they're glistening slightly in the light cast by the flickering torch. I stare and stare at the eyes, convinced that I must be imagining them, but then after a moment they blink and I open my own eyes wider than ever.
This is crazy.
Why would Aunt Alice have a basement like this? Why would she have two fake eyes, complete with lids and lashes, put into one of the walls? Why would she even have bare rocky walls that are so ugly?
I sit completely still, staring at the eyes as they stare back at me, waiting for some moment of realization to hit. Any second, I'm going to suddenly understand what's happening, so I figure I just have to wait. Still, as I sit with the palms of my hands against the rough, rocky ground, I can't help looking into each of the eyes in turn, staring at the pitch-black pupils and feeling the sensation of something watching me in return.
After several minutes have passed like this, I finally take a deep breath and tell myself that I should go a little closer. It's not like these can really be eyes, so the best thing would just be to go over and take a proper look, and then that way I'll be able to make myself feel better.
I still pause for a moment, too scared to move, before I somehow summon the courage to get to my feet. My knees are trembling and I desperately want to run away, but I also want to figure out what these eyes really are before I go. And I'm not scared. I refuse to be scared.
The eyes blink again.
I reach out to touch them, to find out what they're really made of.
They blink again.
There's liquid on the rims of the lids.
My fingers are just inches away now.
I'm holding my breath.
Suddenly they blink again.
“Please don't do that,” a voice booms behind me.
Startled, I spin around and step back, just in time to see that the other wall now features a large, open mouth that's as long as my body. I spot two rows of large, slightly brown-stained teeth as the lips close, and now the mouth is barely visible again.
Backing away, I suddenly bump against the wall with the eyes, and I let out a startled gasp as I spin around again and see the eyes furiously blinking.
“Please don't touch my eyes,” the voice booms again.
I spin around and see the mouth, this time with a faint hint of dribble running down from one corner.
“They're a little sensitive,” the mouth says suddenly, and this time I feel a faint spray of spittle against my face, causing me to hold my arms up in defense. “Aren't your eyes sensitive?” the voice continues. “It's rude to poke somebody in the eye when you've only just met them.”
“I didn't poke you in the eye,” I stammer, stepping back but suddenly feeling my right elbow bump against something soft and squishy.
“Ow!” the mouth yells, and I spin around again. “Please just stop doing that!”
I stare at the eyes for a moment, then back at the mouth on the opposite wall, then at the eyes again, then -
Suddenly hearing a loud sniffing sound, I look up and see to my horror that there's a large, slightly squished nose on the ceiling of the rocky corridor. The nose seems to be made of the same darkish red rock, and I watch as the nostrils flare slightly. A moment later I spot something glistening in one of the nostrils, and I take a startled step back as a blob of liquid drips down onto the ground.
“Sorry about that,” the mouth says behind me, causing me to spin around again, “but you kind of brought it on yourself. Do you always elbow strangers in the eye when you meet them?”
Too shocked to reply, too shocked to even know how to react, I back away for a few paces before suddenly remembering the lips behind me. I turn, and sure enough the lips are slightly parted, allowing me to see the teeth again.
And that's when I realize that this thing could probably fit me inside its mouth.
I back away again, but then I remember the eyes and I stop, turning to look.
A moment later, another drip falls from the nose above, landing on my left shoulder and immediately soaking through the fabric of my already-ruined dress.
I step back, and this time my foot bumps against a particularly bumps section of the corridor's rocky floor. Startled, I look down just as my foot slips ankle-deep into a rather large hole that I hadn't noticed before. I slowly look around, and to my horror I realize that I seem to be standing in an ear.
“Do you mind?” the mouth booms behind me. “How do you expect me to hear a thing with a pair of your size-fours stuck in there?”
I twist and turn, trying to run, only for my foot to catch in the hole. I drop to my knees, feeling another twinge of pain in my damaged right ankle, but I quickly haul myself up and start running again, racing away from the face. I'm sure it's just some kind of sick joke, but right now I really need to get out of the basement.
“Don't go that way!” the voice yells after me. “Wait! Come back! Don't you know there's a soul auction happening tonight? You have to go the other way, or you'll end up right in the middle of it!”
Almost tripping, I ignore the voice entirely as I continue to run along the corridor. My heart is pounding and I'm absolutely terrified, but when I reach the next turning I find that my only options are two more rocky corridors, each of which extends away from the first. I have no idea how Aunt Alice can have such a strange, massive basement, but I'm definitely going to ask her about it when I get back upstairs. For now, however, I just need to figure out which way to run, which would be easier if somebody had thought to put up a few signs.
“Hello?” I call out finally, trying not to sound scared. “Mummy? Can you hear me? I'm lost in the basement!”
I wait, but there's no reply. I guess the rocks are too thick and Mummy can't hear me if she's upstairs in the main part of the house.
Frankly, right now I'd even be happy to see Johnny's ugly face.
I look back over my shoulder, but there's no way I want to return the way I just came. I know the wall wasn't alive, because obviously walls can't be alive, but there'll be time to ask Aunt Alice about the whole thing later. At the moment, I just need to get out of the basement, and I'm really starting to regret ever climbing down that stupid hole.
“It's okay,” I whisper, looking down at Lucy. “We're not lost. I know where we are. I just don't quite know yet how to get out, but I will. Soon. I promise.”
Just as I've finished saying those words, however, I hear a distant, deep rumbling sound that causes the ground to tremble slightly beneath my feet. The sound passes soon enough, but now I can hear what sounds like footsteps in the distance. Not just a few footsteps, either, but a whole gang of people, accompanied by a persistent, loud rattling sound. I look along one of the rocky corridors, and already I can tell that the sound is coming from the darkness at the far end. It's almo
st as if lots and lots of people are walking this way, but I know that there's no reason for lots of people to be in Aunt Alice's basement.
Instinctively, I take a step back, just as I spot a faint hint of movement in the darkness ahead.
For a fraction of a second, I tell myself not to run, but a moment later I realize I can just about make out what looks like a set of low, hunched shoulders, accompanied by a metallic clanging sound that's getting louder and louder.
Finally I turn and hurry the other way, along the only corridor that's still an option. I keep looking over my back, but if anything the footsteps are getting closer. When I speed up, the footsteps seem to speed up as well, and once again I can see the faintest hint of movement coming after me. I try to run even faster, but my injured right ankle is hurting more and more and I'm starting to cry again. Reaching a bend in the corridor, I stop for a moment to get my breath back, but I know I'll have to start running again.
And then I spot a small, low alcove at the bottom of the wall, complete with a set of letters that appear to have been chiseled into the rocks.
Bending down, I struggle for a moment to read the words.
“Passing... point,” I whisper, before suddenly realizing that this might be a place where I can hide.
I duck down and climb into the gap, which is barely big enough for me to fit. I have to really curl myself up and keep my head low, and some of the rocks feel particularly sharp. There's also some cold dampness, already soaking through the seat of my dress, but there's no way I dare climb out right now, not with the sound of footsteps getting louder and closer, so I simply hold myself as small as possible and wait.
Whoever's coming, they must be almost here now.