Thanksgiving Dinner

Alex was fascinated by the beautiful paintings. He saw paintings of dragons, unicorns, and elves. Trolls, goblins, and ghouls. Each one of them told a story, be it a knight saving the prince from a dragon or a troll feeding a family of wolves. Alex was so absorbed by the paintings that he didn't realize where his aimless stroll had led him.

He stood at the foot of a staircase, leading into a dark abyss, seemingly the basement or cellar. Alex gripped his phone, his knuckles turning white. He would never admit it, but he was afraid of basements and the like. Something about the lowest level of a structure unsettled him to the core, he couldn't explain it.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself, turning on his heel and walking away, he hated being afraid.

Maybe you should confront your fears?

Said a little voice.

Alex rolled his eyes but he paused, thinking for a moment.

What really was there to be afraid of? It's just another floor of the abbey, he thought to himself.

Rolling his eyes once more, he turned back and headed down the stairs.

As he descended, the air changed, it became cool and there was a slight breeze as if a window had been left open. Alex turned on his phone flashlight and scanned the cellar he found himself in.

It had none of the modern appliances that populated the cellars he was familiar with. Instead, rows and rows of wine sat on racks that seemed to go on forever. He ran a finger along one of the dust-covered bottles.

This stash has to be worth thousands, he mused.

"There you are, Alex, I was wondering where you'd gone."

He turned, it was uncle Rodger.

Rodger looked the cellar up and down and let out a low whistle.

"Now that's a stash all right, we will drink well tonight!"

Rodger ruffled Alex's hair before heading back upstairs.

"Lucy wants your help with something," he called over his shoulder. Alex mumbled something about being a slave before following his uncle.

The rest of the afternoon went on without anything particularly interesting happening, Alex argued with Lucy and one of his cousins vomited on the cobbles.

Sighing, Alex dropped his bags outside his room. He failed to see why his relatives wanted to spend Thanksgiving in an abbey.

What's the point? He found himself wondering. It was so unnecessary, driving so far away from home, a waste of resources, one might say.

A small lump filled his throat, he was feeling homesick. Far away from home, where his godparents were. His cat, fish and chickens, his family. He shook off the feeling, he hated traveling. He always felt more comfortable in familiar places. He popped in his earbuds back in and walked outside to help with more luggage.

"Alex, Alex!" a little voice called. He turned and there stood his cousin, Jessica, a little girl of six with a head of curly blonde hair and eyes that resembled golf balls, at least in Alex's opinion.

"What?" he asked as he continued walking, wanting to get the unloading over with.

"Mommy says this was an abbey from the time of the beasts, is that true?" she asked, her little legs barely keeping up with him.

"Yeah, it probably is."

Jessica huffed. "Probably isn't one-hundred percent yes, daddy says probably is only sixty percent yes."