Don't Open the Cellar Door

1 Best selling novelist Cameron Sanders moved into the house in the middle of the woods. Mr. Barnes, the realtor, walked into the kitchen. Mr. Barnes spoke loudly. “You’re a brave soul,” Mr. Barnes joked. His smile did not quite reach his eyes. “This house is very haunted.” Cameron nodded. “I’m writing a ghost story,” he said. “I crave isolation and inspiration.” “You can have plenty of inspiration here,” Mr. Barnes said. “That basement door stays locked.” “Why?” Cameron asked. “It’s the heart of the haunting,” Mr. Barnes said flatly. His tone made Cameron shiver. “He said that too flatly,” Cameron thought. “I have to get going now,” Mr. Barnes said. “Alright,” Cameron said quietly. “Take care my friend.” The men shook hands and Mr. Barnes departed. The screen door closing was evidence of his departure. Cameron grabbed his car keys and headed to the grocery store. Smooth jazz played in the background. Snake skin cowboy boots clacked against the floor as Cameron walked. The metallic clanging of the shopping cart echoed as he walked through the fruit aisle. He squeezed a melon to test its firmness. He placed it in the cart and kept walking. The aisle reeked of weed as he passed a black customer vaping too loudly on his phone. “Take that shit outside,” Cameron thought to himself. He turned the corner. He bought some bacon, milk, and a couple of dinners. Then he checked out. While waiting in line a pretty blonde named Zoey tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and visually took her in. She has tan skin, blonde hair, and green eyes. She is wearing jean shorts and a sleeveless red shirt. “Aren’t you Cameron Sanders?” Zoey asked.

2 “I am,” he said. Her eyes dance. “Wow,” she said. “I’m a big fan.” “Thanks,” he said. “My favorite novel of yours is “The Cellar Door,” He smiled and nodded. “I had a blast writing that,” he said. “Do you live around here?” she asked. “I just moved into the house in Frederic Woods,” Cameron replied. She frowned. “Isn’t that house haunted?” “That’s what the realtor told me,” he admitted. “Does your family mind living in a haunted house?” Zoey asked. “I live alone,” he answered. “Does it ever get lonely?” she asked. “I guess sometimes,” he said. “Maybe you could use some company,” she suggested. “My place at 7:00 o’clock,” he said. BBQ and lemonade.” “I’ll be there with bells on,” Zoey said. “See you then,” he said. He cranked the music in his Ford pick up truck. The wind ruffled his red collared shirt and his hair. He passed a laundromat and a Chinese restaurant. He turned off the main road. He jostled a bit as he drove over the uneven dirt road. The trees blocked out the sun and the world darkened. “Perfect atmosphere for a novel,” Cameron thought. He parked in the driveway and shut the car off. He carried the groceries inside. A Grandfather clock sat in the living room. The wooden floors felt sturdy underfoot. He kicked off the cowboy boots and headed straight to the study. He

3 sat down with a pen and paper and started outlining his latest novel. He fell into the groove of outlining. He felt a twinge of excitement as he plotted each chapter. The night air smelled of barbequed chicken. They dined under the stars and lemonade and pleasant conversation flowed. Everything felt more romantic maybe except for the sound of an occasional bug zapper. “What made you choose Twisted Oaks as a home?” Zoey asked. “Besides your novel?” “I grew up an hour from here in Red Pines,” he boasted. “No shit,” she said. I was born and raised there,” “I’m enjoying my evening,” he said. “You are easy to talk to.” She blushed. “Thank you,” Zoey said. “I’m not used to writers being as charming and handsome as you are,” she admitted. “Well thank you,” he confessed. “I’ve never thought of myself in those terms.” “Why not?” Zoey asked. “It just comes off as arrogant to view myself through that lens.” “It’s refreshing to talk to someone that isn’t conceited,” Zoey admitted. “I’ve dated a few pompous assholes in my day,” she said. “I can imagine,” he replied. “Have you had any experiences in the house yet?” Zoey asked. “No,” Cameron chuckled and waved dismissively. Zoey leaned back and spoke with the confidence of a local expert. “Give it time,” Zoey said. He smiled and took a bite of corn on the cob. He was watching television and he heard music coming from the basement. This was strange because he figured he might hear footsteps or some light scratching noises. This was a saxophone. There was a sultry quality to the music.

4 “Don’t open the basement door.” Mr. Barnes words ran through Cameron’s mind. He shut the television off and decided to head to bed. His head hit the pillow and he let out a relieved sigh. Dreams came sick. He was walking past the basement when he noticed it was unlocked. He headed down the basement steps and everything was covered in cobwebs. He found an old piano down there. He played a couple of sour notes before he noticed someone was standing in the corner. He seemed abnormally tall and thin. His limbs were thin and long. A force inside his gut urged Cameron to approach what ever it was. It reached toward Cameron and tried to strangle him. Cameron ran up the basement steps and locked the basement door. The thing pounded against the door. He expected to see the door splinter and fly off the hinges at any time. He turned around and saw the creature sitting on the sofa. His black body sprung up and lunged at Cameron. It stretched and smothered Cameron like a heavy blanket. He kicked the blankets off of himself and woke up sweating. His chest ached. His heart pounded in his chest. He felt as though it might explode. He made his way to the bathroom. He splashed some cold water on his face and stared at his own reflection. He looked a bit paler. The lawn mower drowned out any exterior noises. Birds chirped. He worked up a good sweat, he shut the mower off, and put it back in the shed next to the gasoline. He showered and changed into “bum wear” as he called it. He started working on the opening chapter of his latest novel. He figured his nightmare would make a perfect opening to his horror novel. He thought of the music and the nightmare. He knew Mr. Barnes warning would be ignored in any good horror novel. The protagonist would most likely pay a terrible price for their insubordination. This was no book. This was Cameron’s life and he was already tempting fate by living in a haunted house. The bad thing was locked away in the cellar. He felt like a little kid locking a monster away in the basement. He really didn’t want to tempt fate. He was unaware of the latch uplifting by itself. It up and unlocked itself all the way. The deed had been done. The cellar door was open. The sky was gray and the clouds unleashed their fury. Rain was beating against the house. The sound of rain soothed Cameron. It reminded him of Sunday drives to his grandma and grandpa’s house. Dad drove, Mom was in the passenger seat, and Cameron rode in the back seat. The sound of him punching the button on his keyboard.

5 Darkness overcame everything. The creeping shadows bent and twisted. His study door slammed shut. It began to pound and slam violently on its hinges. The computer screen blinked and the same face from his nightmare flashed across his screen. Terrible thoughts of murder and suicide raced through his mind. In walked the creature from his nightmare. It gripped Cameron’s chin. “Obey,” it grunted. “Obey,” Cameron grunted. His eyes turned filmy white. Horrible faces leered at him and surrounded him. They carried torches. They chanted the same word over and over again. “Obey.” Two weeks passed and Mr. Barnes walked in. The interior was dark despite the sunshine. The walls breathed. They moved and audibly could be heard. Mr. Barnes saw Cameron standing there. He looked gaunt and frail. Heavy bags were under his eyes. He stared through Mr. Barnes. The realtor gasped, ran over to his friend, and shook him. “Why did you unlock the door?” Mr. Barnes insisted. “He didn’t unlock the door,” the entity whispered. “I did.” Mr. Barnes spun around on his heels and came face to face with the entity. It gripped his chin and the torches and faces filled the room. They all chanted that one word echoed by Mr. Barnes. “Obey!” His eyes turned filmy. The entity and the house itself had just claimed another soul.