by Stella Noir
“Now? You want to go down there right now?” she asked with her eyes as big as saucers.
“I just want to see what it looks like. I seriously don’t think I’ll be able to sleep or stop thinking about it.”
“Ugh! Ok. But just for, like, less than a minute. Less than thirty seconds would be preferable. I mean, anything could happen.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there to protect you,” I said with a smile as I got up from the couch.
“Ok, let me grab my keys. I think they’re in here,” she said as she opened an old antique side table that stood next to the front door.
“And I’m carrying my mag light. I’m pretty sure I have another flashlight in here for you too,” she said as she rifled through the same drawer that she got the keys out of.
“Here it is,” she said she handed me a small flashlight.
We both put on our jackets and went out into the hall and then through the basement door, which was never locked. I reached my hand up and turned the light switch on and we both just stood on the top landing for about a minute.
“Go ahead,” said Barbara as she nudged me forward. “This is your freaking adventure.”
It was just like the other time I’d been down there. The dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling barely cast any light around the room, let alone all the way up the staircase. We both started down the stairs slowly but then I felt a push from behind me and I screamed.
“I think something just grabbed my foot!” Barbara squealed as she squeezed my shoulders, pushing me down the last few stairs.
I turned around and reached down and picked up a section of hose that was popping out through one of the spaces in between the steps then turned back and held it up to her.
“Ugh. Ok, I’m being a weenie,” she said as she feigned a laugh. “I can’t help it though. This basement really creeps me out. Let’s just get this over with.”
“It’s not really so bad with both of us here, right?”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
The metal door stood there at the end of the creepy chain link fence lined corridor. On either side, behind the fence, were small sectioned off spaces that were separated by more chain link fence, and each section had a door that was padlocked with a rusty old lock like the one on the metal door. The sections looked like storage spaces but the furniture and boxes that were inside all looked like they had been there for at least twenty years. I couldn’t imagine that any of the college students that were living in this house we’re storing any of this stuff.
“What is all this junk?”
“Oh, it’s just old storage. It’s been here since before I moved in and that was six years ago. I guess maybe old tenants that moved?”
“But why would they leave their stuff?”
“I don’t know. Are we doing this or what?”
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and unlock the padlock.”
Barbara tried to put the key in the hole but it wouldn’t slide all the way in. She tried to push it in and out a few times to loosen it up but she couldn’t get the key to turn.
“I think we need to come back with WD 40,” she said as she turned and looked at me.
“Here let me try.” I took the key and wrapped my hand around the cold metal of the padlock then inserted it into the slot.
“Ok, but don’t break the key. I’m pretty sure it’s the only copy.”
I wiggled the key back-and-forth a little bit and finally felt the lock start to turn. It was slow going, but I finally got the key to turn all the way to the right and I felt a click. I pulled down on the lock then turned and looked at Barbara and her eyes were as big as saucers.
“Are you ready?”
“No, but whatever. Let’s do this.”
I turn back around and slipped the curved bar out of the holes that held the lock in place, then grabbed the old metal handle on the door and gave it a tug. There was a popping sound and some dust puffed out around the door frame and as I continued to pull a long low sound came from the hinges. As I opened the door further the sound turned into a high-pitched squeal that set my nerves on edge. The sound echoed throughout the basement and down the tunnel, which added an incredibly creepy depth and made it sound like there were three or four different sounds being emitted at the same time.
The first thing I smelled when the door cracked open was an incredibly musty, dank smell, kind of like the basement, but way stronger. My hands were shaking as I reached into my pocket to grab the flashlight so I could see something, anything. There wasn’t a sliver of light coming from anywhere except for the dim bulb in the basement and that was almost non existent at the end of this corridor. I pulled the door all the way open and as it gave out it’s final moan the entire space in front of me lit up. I turned to my left and Barbara was standing next to me with a flashlight that was the size of a loaf of French bread with the most powerful light emitting from it I had ever seen.
“LEDs. They’re the shit,” she said as she squeezed my arm.
“I’m really glad you brought that monstrosity,” I said as we slowly started moving forward through the doorway.
“See? See? I told you! It’s real. It’s a freaking tunnel!”
“Holy shit, it is.”
I moved to the right out the doorway and tried to look around but the stream of light from my little flashlight didn’t go very far.
“Oh my God, Barbara, your flashlight is insane,” I said as I turned in the other direction. Barbara’s flashlight lit at least a couple hundred feet of the tunnel, showing wooden arches and metal doors and piles of junk for an incredibly long distance.
“Will you hold that thing still? I can’t see anything with you waving it around like that.”
“Ok, Ok. I’m just trying to make sure that no one is sneaking up on us.”
She still had her arm linked with mine and was grabbing it with the opposite hand so I put my little flashlight back in my pocket and we both held onto the big flashlight with both of our hands and moved it together. I steered us both to the right side of the basement door because I had seen a pile of boxes there that looked interesting. They were old wooden crates and that had been stacked up against the wall on the opposite side of the tunnel, and looked like they had probably contained food or produce at least fifty years ago.
“Let’s go back that way,” Barbara said, pulling me back in the other direction. “I saw a door down there. And keep the flashlight low so we can see if there are any rats running around in front of us. I know there are rats down here.”
Barbara was moving very slowly so she could keep an eye out for rats and evil doers, so we were barely moving as we shuffled down the tunnel towards the other door.
“Hey, do you think that’s the house next door? The one with the convenience store?”
“Yeah, maybe. Man, it’s so creepy down here.”
“I wonder if anyone ever uses this tunnel anymore, I mean for getting around. I really want to walk around some more.”
“You’re crazy,” Barbara said as she kicked a can to make sure it wasn’t moving.
Suddenly Barbara jumped and grabbed on my arm even tighter, almost knocking me over.
“Holy fuck, what was that?”
It sounded like someone yelling or laughing but it also sounded incredibly creepy and distorted because of the tunnels and I was having a hard time not imagining a freaky clown with big, sharp teeth.
“I don’t know. Do you really think people live down here or hang out down here?”
“I have no idea. I really don’t want to know either. Let’s get out of here,” she said as she pulled me back towards the basement door. Then suddenly the sound of big heavy footsteps came from somewhere up ahead of us in the blackness. The crunching of gravel kept getting louder and louder as the footsteps got closer, but we couldn’t see anyone coming at all.
“Dude let’s go now!”
We both turned and ran back through the basement door and slammed it shut and I quickly put th
e padlock back on.
“Holy shit what was that? It sounded like someone was walking right toward us!” Barbara said, her voice shaking as she tried to catch her breath.
“But how could anyone have been walking toward us? We didn’t see any other lights down there, and there’s no way someone could walk around down there without a flashlight.”
“Maybe it was an echo or something. Man, that place is just crazy. I’m going upstairs. You can stay down here if you want to,” she said as she headed towards the stairs.
I jumped as my phone went off in my back pocket, then pulled it out and read Gotta cancel tonight. Sorry.
“Are you coming back to my place? We can watch TV or something,” Barbara asked when we got to the top of the stairs and shut off the basement light.
“No, I’m tired. I’m gonna head home.”
“Ok, catch you later,” she said with a smile as she disappeared behind her apartment door.
I went up to my room and turned the light on briefly while I rifled around in a drawer until I found what I was looking for, a candle and a pin cushion. I lit the candle and set it on the windowsill then sat on the window seat and held the pin head in the candle flame.
Of course, Trevor bailed on you. What did you expect? He probably ran into someone much hotter and more interesting than you, I thought as I watched the pin head turn red in the flame, then pulled it out and pressed it to my skin and watched a tiny trail of smoke rise into the air.
5. Colin
I made it through the front door of the salon just as the last of the lights were being turned off.
“You want to join us for a drink tonight Colin? We’re just going to head over to the bar on the corner for a while.”
Trisha had only been working at the salon for about a month, but I swear to God she had asked me to go get a drink with them at least twenty times already. I was getting kind of tired of coming up with excuses but I really had no interest in spending any amount of time with the other stylists, especially after the conversation I had just overheard.
“No thanks, not tonight.”
“Oh, man, you say that every time I ask you. What do you do every night that you’re too busy to just have one drink with us?”
“Lot’s of dates is my guess,” said Gabby, one of the girls that had worked there for years.
“Come on. We’re all really interested in mystery-man Colin. Who is he? What makes him tick?” she said with a wink. She did have incredible lips and I paused for a moment to study the ruby red curves.
“Speak for yourself. If he doesn’t want to go out with us it’s his loss,” said a familiar voice behind me. I turned to see Jade locking the glass doors and there was a moment there … just a moment … when I thought maybe I could kill someone just for the fun of it. That wasn’t me at all. In fact, it was never the killing that pushed me to do the things that I did. To be honest, I didn’t particularly like that part, it was how I could use what I had taken from the girls that interested me most, but this chick was really starting to bug me.
“Yeah, Jade’s right. It’s my loss,” I said to the girls with a forced smile. “I’ll see you all in a couple days.”
As I walked off I could have sworn I heard the word asshole in the distance behind me, but then again it could have been my imagination.
I walked the twenty blocks back to my house in the drizzling rain and cool evening air in a sort of a trance. I hadn’t really planned on getting another girl so soon and I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do with her. I mean, I knew why I wanted her, the part of her that I wanted, but I was starting to get the feeling that I didn’t really know what I was doing anymore.
What the hell am I doing? I thought as I briskly stepped through puddles and wove past other people on the sidewalks.
For so long it had been for a sort of company. Ever since I was a kid I remember wishing I had someone to play with or talk to, someone other than my mother. And when she gave me my first mannequin head I was really excited. I would change the wig and apply makeup to it and keep it next to my bed so that I felt like someone was there with me at night. I even put curlers in it before bed so that I could style the hair in the morning.
My mother had as many wig heads as she had wigs and that meant that there were at least ten in her room at any one time. When she got tired of an old wig she would give it to me, as well as the wig head it sat on, and she would just go out and buy a new one with a new style.
When I was a kid there were times when I was actually able to use them to convince myself that I wasn’t alone and lonely. But eventually, as I got older, I had to admit to myself that they really weren’t working anymore, and that’s when I started taking girls from the salon.
But then Avery had come along, and I was having a hard time not noticing all of the coincidences that had gone on between us from the moment she moved in next door. Some of them were silly, and it embarrassed me to even think them to myself let alone tell anyone, but when I put them all together they really added up. Like the way we met with that whole One Hundred and One Dalmatians scene. I’d always loved dogs, but when I was a kid the thing I’d really loved about that movie was the scenery. The way the old buildings and city streets looked and the park where Roger and Anita met. I used to rewind that part and watch it over and over again … and that’s exactly how Avery and I met.
But I didn’t have time to think about any of that. What I needed to do was get home and get changed and go pick up that girl that I dumped in the tunnel and bring her back to my house before anyone found her.
I hadn’t used the front door to the house in years. After my mother died I kept the store open as long as I could but eventually I just shut the front door and turned the open sign around and never opened it again. I walked quickly up the driveway on the side of the house and then through the gate in the wooden fence that surrounded the backyard. I ran up the back steps then into the house and quickly changed my clothes to something I wouldn’t mind throwing away, then I headed down to the basement.
I grabbed a ring of keys off a hook by the door and a small flashlight, then went out the door that led into the tunnels. I shut the door behind me and locked it from the outside then turned on my small pen light and headed back to the salon.
I always used the smallest flashlight possible when I was down in the tunnels, partly so it would be easier to carry when I had a hundred or so pounds slung over my shoulder, but also because I liked to be as unobtrusive as possible.
I knew that there were other people down there. People who lived in the tunnels and the abandoned building near the docks that were just trying to get out of the cold, but also people like me who used the tunnels to do what they needed to do without being seen. And you never knew who you might run into.
For the most part, I knew exactly where I was going down there and barely needed a light to get around. I’d been running around in the tunnels most of my life and I’d gotten to know them like the back of my hand.
One time when I dropped my flashlight and it went out I found my way home from the salon just by feel. I could tell approximately where I was by how long I had been walking in one direction and when I started to think that I needed to turn I felt the wall for the cross tunnel and took the turn. It was just dumb luck that I wound up stopping at the right door though.
It was also somewhat risky to walk around with a flashlight because you were clearly visible to anyone who might be hiding in the dark. But the danger of tripping on something or running into a pile of junk was just as dangerous and unless you had a reason to turn off your light there’s no point in risking any of that.
As I made my way past the metal doors that lined both sides of the tunnel walls, I passed the massive wooden arch supports and structures that kept the whole thing from caving in. Periodically I would pass the same piles of old boxes and appliances that had been discarded years ago and that had been there as long as I could remember. Then there would be the piles of garbage
and bedding that came and went as people abandoned their crash pads and then other people would come along and move everything piece by piece and start using it all somewhere else.
As I turned the corners I mentally kept track of what was coming next; right then left then right again, and I counted blank doors that were interspersed with the occasional painted door. Some doors had old logos and markings on them from the days when the tunnels were used for transporting goods, and other doors were completely bricked up.
I finally reached the salon door and there she was, right there in the laundry bag where I had left her. That always surprised me, that the girls had never gotten up and run off or even moved from the place I put them. But, then again, where would you run to in the pitch black dark when you woke up in a bag and didn’t even have the vaguest idea where you were.
It was a little bit of a risk leaving the girls there until I was able to make my way back since anyone could just wander by and take my stash, but in all the years I’d been doing this I had never lost a single girl. I figured either nobody frequented that particular section of the tunnel or maybe there was less activity during the day.
I put the pen light in my mouth, picked up the girl and threw her over my shoulder, then headed back exactly the way I had come. It was sort of soothing to name off the landmarks in my head as I passed them by and it became a sort of rhythm for me as my mind counted everything backwards and I made my way back home.
Bardoon and Sons door, five blank doors, garbage pile, wooden arch, bricked doorway, pile of blankets, Zaler’s Deli door, old refrigerator, wooden arch, four blank doors … turn left, turn right, turn left again, but as I made my final turn and counted the last doors I saw something I never seen before and I stopped dead in my tracks.
One of the doors was open down this stretch of tunnel, and it was the stretch that my house was on. The doors along this section of tunnel all led to the basements of houses that had been private residences for a very long time and most of the doors were locked up and buried behind piles of junk.