Kit stared. After a few seconds, she shook her head. "No, Words."
The thought of going into the basement with whatever was down there was terrifying, but I was even more scared of letting her go down there. I realized she probably wasn't technically safe from that thing if she was in the house—especially if it had been walking around at night—but I couldn't let her go down there.
"You don't have to go," she said.
I nodded. "I know. But I am."
She shook her head and seemed to come out of her daze a little bit. "But what are you going to do down there?" she asked. "What's your plan?"
"And what would be your plan?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Go downstairs. Find Porcelain. Find Face and Tang. Make sure they're okay."
"And what if you run into . . . whatever made all that noise?"
She stood up and went to the counter, limping from when she fell and smashed her knee. "I'd run. But if it caught me—" She pulled open a drawer, reached inside, and pulled out a butcher's knife. She turned back to me. "—I'd do my best to make sure it was sorry it did."
She was trying to be strong and confident, but she was shaking.
I looked at the knife in her hand. If the thing in the basement was as big as it sounded, using that knife on it would be like trying to kill a buffalo with a fork. It was stupid to be so brave with such a little weapon. But I couldn't let her go down there.
"Sounds like a plan to me," I said. I stood up.
She looked over my shoulder to make sure no one else had followed us. "I should go, Words. It's all my fault."
"What? How?"
"I've heard it walking around. At night."
My mouth fell open. So, others had heard it! I couldn't believe she hadn't said anything.
"It's been coming up once or twice a week for a while. And when I heard the growl, I knew it wasn't the heater turning on. It was that thing."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I don't know!" She waved her hands. The blade of the knife swung in the air. "No one else said anything about it and I didn't want to scare anyone. No one had been hurt, so I thought maybe I was dreaming or getting paranoid or something. It seemed better to try and ignore it."
"Boy's heard it."
She stared at me.
"And Mair, too."
"You knew? Why didn't you say anything?"
"I've never heard it. Boy told me about it. I just thought he was having nightmares or something. And Mair, well, he didn't tell anyone because he was trying to pray it away. He said he was trying to keep everyone safe with his faith. He just told me about it this morning."
"Has anyone else heard it?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. No one's said anything about it to me."
"But it's so loud! That's why I thought I was making it up or something. If it was real, everyone should've heard it!"
"Maybe they were too scared. Or they thought they were dreaming, too. We need to ask them." I went to her and took the knife out of her hand. I set it on the counter. "But none of this is your fault."
She hugged me and I hugged her back. We held each other for a moment that felt protected from absolutely everything.
When she pulled away, she looked me in the eyes. "If we're going to do this, we better do this right."
I nodded even though I had no idea what she meant. And for a moment, I wondered if she should've been the one going into the basement. She was the smarter and braver. There was a strength in her that I knew I'd never have. She was better than me in every way possible. But I was going to do it. I was going to do it for her.
* * *
No one really said anything when I told them I was going into the basement. I think they were too shocked. Not even the twins and The Marionette had anything to say. It was my turn to be shocked, though, when Kit asked Light to help and he agreed without putting up a fight. He just nodded, his eyes wide, and followed us into the kitchen.
The others huddled by the table and watched as the three of us went to the basement door. I turned backed and saw Boy. I tried to smile at him, but he turned and grabbed onto Evry.
I thought about saying goodbye to him. There was a real possibility I wouldn't be coming back. With every passing second, that realization became even more real. My heart beat faster and faster. What was I doing?
I slipped a lighter and a long, thin candle into my jeans pocket. The butcher's knife went into the front pouch of my hoodie. It bounced off my stomach with each step I took.
The plan was that Light would stand at the top of the stairs and shine a beam down into the basement. This would help me see and also find my way back out. The candle was for when I had to move out of his light. Although, it wasn't very promising. Whenever we'd tried using candles around the house, they always blew out within seconds even though we never felt a draft or anything. Maybe the basement would be different, but I doubted it. I took the candle anyway.
Kit opened the basement door and then turned to Light. She tried to look brave, but there was a pained, guilty look on her face. "Okay, Light," she said. "Do your thing."
He nodded. "I . . . I'll try."
"You can do it," Kit said. "I know you can."
I didn't think he'd actually go through with it, but he stepped down onto the top stair, made a fist, and pointed it down the stairs. The glass discs on his hand popped with light. A weak beam flickered out of his fist.
Kit reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Great job, Light. You're doing it. I knew you could."
He half-smiled for a second before scrunching up his face. The beam stopped flickering. It grew brighter and brighter. "I can do this," he said to himself. "I can do this."
I looked back at the group by the kitchen table. Their faces weren't as gloomy as before. They all seemed impressed, relieved that Light was actually able to help.
I wanted to smile and say something to them. I wanted to hug my brother. I did neither. Instead, I slipped past Kit and stepped down onto the top basement stair.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Words?" Kit said.
I nodded without looking at her.
You have to turn to the left to go down the stairs. When I turned and looked down them, I was taken back. Seeing everything lit up was weird. Somehow it looked even scarier than when it was choked with darkness. I could see that the stairs were a giant framework of splintery boards. The walls cracked and grimy.
The rough wood of the stairs pricked at my feet. It wasn't until then that I realized I wasn't wearing socks or shoes. I thought about going back to put on shoes, but if I did that I might chicken out for good. If I was going to go down there, I had to do it right then.
I went down a step, then another, and another. The stairs creaked with every move I made. I could feel the framework sway beneath me. After six stairs, you sunk lower than the walls and either side of you opened up into dusty, dark air. Twelve stairs down, there was a rectangular landing that turned to the left and led to even more stairs.
I stopped on the landing and looked back up. The beam Light shined down the stairs was bright, but the darkness pressed in on it and kept it from spreading very far.
There was a railing that ran around the outside edges of the landing. Not much was visible beyond it. I could make out a few stacks of boxes a few feet away, but that was it. Not being able to see far made me feel paranoid and jumpy, a little claustrophobic. Someone or something could've been a few feet away and I wouldn't have known.
Because the stairs turned and doubled back at the landing, I needed a candle to go any further. My hands shook as I pulled the candle and lighter from my pants pocket. I lit the candle and waited for a few seconds to see if it'd blow out. It didn't.
A single candle was pathetic when compared to the thick darkness of the basement, but it was better than nothing. The weak light might have even been a good thing. The less light I gave off, the less likely the thing down there would see me and come after me. I was safer in the dark. Or, at least, that's what I told myself.
I took a deep breath and started down the second set of stairs. When I stepped down from the final step, I felt cool, packed dirt underneath my feet. The air was almost chilly and smelled of old water and something else that can only be described as age.
A few feet in front of the stairs was an old, wooden rocking horse, the kind that's held up by springs that connect each leg to a frame. Half of the face was splintered off. It made the horse look like it was sneering.
With the candle held out in front of me, I made my way around the frame of the stairs past stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes. Most of the boxes seemed to be in good condition, but some were beaten up and a few were falling apart. One box was split wide open and old, dirty clothes spilled out of it. Other things were mixed in with the boxes, too. I passed a tall metal birdcage with a domed top, a grandfather clock with no face, and a tangle of nightstands that had their legs pointing outward in every direction.
Light's beam of light shot over the landing and slanted down to dirt floor. The air it sliced through looked gray and cloudy. I moved into that dim light and gave a shaky thumbs-up.
"What do you see?" It was Kit. Her voice drifted down to me through the light. It sounded weak and scared.
I needed to be brave, or at least look like I was. I stood up a little straighter. "Not much." I called up gently. I looked around quickly. Had that thing heard me?
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" she asked.
I was in the basement. The basement. Just minutes after something in the basement had roared. I thought of the House Rule about being buried down there. My sister. She was down there somewhere. Would I come across her grave? Other graves? Would I find her bones picked clean of their meat? There was also the fact that Face and Tang didn't want me down there.
No, I wasn't okay what it. But as scared as I was, I wouldn't have been able to let her go down there and just wait for her to come back, not knowing what was happening, not knowing if she was safe or if I'd let her go to her death.
"I'm fine," I called in the loudest whisper I dared. "I'm going to go find them now."
"Be careful!"
I moved out of the beam of light and came to an opening in a wall of boxes. I slipped through the gap. There was another wall of boxes that stretched out in front of me. I looked to the right and then the left. In the dim light, I could see another opening in the wall of boxes a few feet down. It hit me. I'd just stepped into a maze.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move. I spun in that direction and squinted, but I couldn't see anything. I took a step forward to push the light a little further. Another wall of boxes pressed its way out of the darkness.
There didn't seem to be anything there, but that didn't mean anything.
I remembered the butcher's knife and pulled it out of my hoodie's front pocket. The light from the candle glinted off the blade as it shook in my hand.
How I did it, I'll never know, but I moved through the stacks of boxes and junk as they floated in and out of the darkness like ghosts.
A left. A right. I focused on remembering the turns I made and anything that could be used as a trail marker. A faded green guitar case. Straight. Left. An empty giant picture frame. I needed to remember everything. I needed to know how to get out of there.
Something sharp cut my left foot. I gasped and fell backwards into a stack of boxes. They tumbled forward and rained down over me with a jumble of loud crashes. The candle went out.
"Words! Are you okay?" I could barely hear Kit's voice coming through the darkness.
The last thing I wanted to do was call out and give away where I was, but I knew if I didn't that she might come looking for me, worried and determined to help me. Besides, all the noise I'd just made had already given me away.
"I—I'm fine." I called out. "I tripped. I'm fine."
"Please be careful!"
I pulled the lighter from my pocket. "I will!" I took a few deep breaths and waited to see if I could hear anything moving around in the darkness. Would the monster come rushing at me? Would Face or Tang appear?
I counted to twenty.
Nothing.
I counted to a hundred.
Nothing.
Just keep going, I told myself. Get this over with.
My hands shook so badly that it took several tries before I could get the lighter to work. I almost shouted for joy when the flame appeared and I was able to light the candle again. I had a new appreciation for that tiny flame and the weak light it gave off.
I stayed sitting and held the candle close to my left foot. There was a scrape from the side of my heel to the ankle. It bled, but not much. It stung, but I'd be able to walk on it.
I got up and stacked the boxes back in place. When that was finished, I decided to find what had cut me so I could move it out of the way and not hurt myself on it again. I didn't see anything, so I crouched and brought the candle closer to the ground. That was when I found it—a thin piece of metal with a sharp end sticking up out of the dirt floor. A spike.
I grabbed the spike and pulled. It was really stuck in there. It took a few tugs, but I got it out and set it on top of a box to keep it out of the way.
I still hadn't heard anything move around, but that didn't make me feel any safer. I'd made a lot of noise, and chances were they knew I was down there. I squeezed the handle of the knife even tighter.
Calm down, I told myself. Just calm—
I thought I saw something scramble along the top of a wall of boxes to my right. I held up the candle but didn't see or hear anything. I squinted. The wall of boxes wasn't even wobbling. They'd be shaking if something had been there. I took a deep breath, a second deep breath.
I turned around to keep heading in the same direction I was before I knocked over the boxes. A big wardrobe came out of the darkness to my left. The doors were missing and what must've been the pieces of ten shattered toilets were piled inside.
I was about to keep heading forward, but I'd reached the end of the maze. A wall of stones of all sizes, glued together with crumbling mortar, stretched to the right and upward until it disappeared in the darkness. A hallway opened up the wall a few feet to the left. I moved closer to the opening. I could barely make out two doors standing across from each other about eight feet down the hallway. Everything beyond that was black.
I felt naked without the boxes and junk all around me, hiding me. My hand shook even harder, but I forced myself to keep going. I took one step down the hallway. Then I heard something growl.
It came from the darkness further down the hallway. It was quiet, almost gentle, but it sent terrible shivers down my spine. I held the knife out in front of me, but the way it shook made it look flimsy.
Whatever terrifying thing there was in the basement, it was down that hallway and it was growling at me. I'd never been hunting, but I knew that if an animal wants to attack something it goes after it as quietly as possible. But if something growls, it's sending a warning to go away. A growl tells you it doesn't want to fight but it will if it has to.
There was no way I could face whatever it was with that little knife in the dark basement.
"Porcelain?" I called softly down the hallway. "Porcelain?"
The growling grew a little louder. I waited a few seconds before I backed away, my eyes straight ahead. Either she wasn't down that way, or I wouldn't be able to help her if she was.
My third step backwards something sharp sliced me between my big and second toes on my right foot. I screamed, but I didn't fall or knock anything over that time. Instead, I froze in place and brought the candle lower to the ground.
It was another spike.
I'd only been scraped again, but this one bled worse than the first. There was already a small pool of blood on the dirt.
The growling got just a little louder. I wanted to turn and run, but I didn't. Running would've been stupid. Not only would it have made me panic, but I could've stepped on more of those spikes. Seeing that second one made me realize that they weren't sticking out of the dirt by accident. They'd been put there on purpose, and there was definitely more of them.
Turning my back to the growling was the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I did it and crouched low. I held the candle near the ground as I moved. Just as I suspected, I found several other spikes waiting to be stepped on. Somehow, I'd been lucky enough to miss them before.
Making my way back was easy enough because I'd memorized everything, the turns, the weird items mixed in with the boxes. Soon, I couldn't even hear the growling anymore. I was either too far away or it had stopped. Either option was fine with me.
Finally, I stepped out of the maze right where I'd first entered it. The framework of the stairs stood ahead of me, and Light's beam still shined down the stairs. I was so relieved that I almost called out to him. I could've kissed him for being brave enough to keep his light on that entire time.
That was when Tang stepped into the beam of light.
After gawking for a second, I shook my head. "Tang! Where's your brother? Where's Porcelain?"
"Tang!" Kit called down. "We're so happy you're okay!"
Tang showed no sign that he'd heard either of us. He just stared at me.
"Tang," I said. I took a step forward, "we need to get out of here. It's over there. Behind me. It was growling."
His expression stayed blank. I noticed that there was no cuts or bruises on his face. His clothes even seemed pretty clean. He seemed to be fine.
"What is that thing that's growling and roaring?"
With his tongue all tangled up, he wouldn't have been able to speak, but he could've responded somehow. Instead, he just kept staring. His brow was lowered and his jaw was clenched. He looked angry. No. He looked worse than angry. He looked furious.
"Tang?" I said. I took a small step backwards.
Tang let his mouth hang open and his tongue, a jumble of fleshy loops, slid out. He stuck his fingers into the mess and pulled. It was as if his tongue was made of elastic. He pulled and stretched the loops in all sorts of ways, but it always shrunk back down to its original shape.
The beam of light flickered. When Tang wrapped his tongue around his own throat, it disappeared entirely.
"Light, come back!" I heard Kit shout. "We need you!"
I held the candle out in front of me. Tang stepped closer and pulled his tongue down to his waist.
"We need to get out of here, Tang." I took another step backwards. "It's not safe with that thing."
He looked down at the knife in my hand and then back up into my eyes as he continued to stretch his tongue.
"We're worried about you guys," I said. I took two more steps backwards. "Where's Porcelain? Where's Face?"
"Me?" Face's voice filled my mind. "I'm right here."
I held the candle out in front of me and turned in a circle to try and find him. With his voice in my head, it was impossible to tell where he actually was. "We need to get out of here, Face. Where's Porcelain?"
"Are you guys okay?" Kit called down. "Did you find them all, Words? Are they okay?"
"We're just fine," The Boy with the Mirror Face said. "And we're not going anywhere."
A rope flew out of the darkness and looped around my neck. I screamed and dropped the knife and candle. The flame disappeared and everything went black.