The Surprise

She knew the rules. Don’t go into the basement, no matter what. But she was tired of her father treating her like a little girl. She was sixteen now. Almost a woman. Whatever he had down there to hide, she was sure she had seen worse.

Her dad was single and always bringing new women by the house. Megan was sure her father was into the weird crap. She pictured a whole dungeon beneath the house complete with sex swings and the works. It was weird to think about her father having sex, but she knew it was a fact of life. It was how every single person on the planet came to be. And her curiosity was too much to bear. She needed to know what was down there.

While her father was out at work, Megan snuck to the basement door. Of course, it was locked. She had expected that. Lucky for her, it was no more than a simple doorknob lock. A rather old one at that. It could be picked with a paperclip given the right amount of patience.

It only took her a few minutes before the lock turned and the knob twisted. Whatever her father was hiding must not have been worth a few extra bucks for a better lock. In Megan’s young, teenage mind she convinced herself this was her father’s fault. He created the curiosity in her by sectioning off part of the house and not locking it down properly.

The door swung open with a creak. Megan stared down at the steps shrouded in darkness. Her hand felt around on the wall for the light switch. Flicking it up did nothing. Either the bulb was burnt out or her father had purposely not installed one.

“Ugh, gross,” she said to no one. “Maybe it really is his sex dungeon.”

Despite the possibility of seeing her father’s sex toys, she descended the steps with caution. It was almost impossible to see in the darkened basement. There were no windows down here and the only light filtered in from the hallway above. It only lit up the top half of the stairs.

As Megan’s bare feet slapped against the cold, concrete floor, something moved to her left. She squinted in the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse. It was like staring at black sheets. Impossible to see through.

“I really hope that wasn’t a rat,” she said.

With an outstretched hand, Megan crept along the wall. She hoped to find anything that would shed light on the room. Her father really couldn’t have used this room in the pitch black, could he? Then her mind went to photography. What if this was a darkroom for photos? If she turned on a light, it could destroy them. She wasn’t entirely sure how a darkroom worked. In the movies, they were always lit with a red light. Besides, why would keeping her out of a room full of photos be important. Unless they were nude photos of his lady friends. Megan rolled her eyes at her own perverted thoughts.

Her knee bumped something in front of her. Megan stopped and stretched out her hands in the darkness. Again, something moved in the distance. It sounded bigger than a rat. Her heart began to jackhammer in her chest. The thought of turning and running for the stairs fluttered in her mind before her hand grasped something cold and metallic. It took her brain a moment to realize she was holding a candle stick. Light! If only she could find a lighter.

Megan's free hand searched the end table she had bumped into. There had to be a lighter nearby. At least, she hoped. Finally, her hand bumped a small cardboard box. Picking it up, she shook it next to her ear. Matches!

Placing the candlestick down, Megan slid open the box. She struck a match on the side and a small pin prick of light burst forth through the darkness. She craned her neck to look around the basement but could still see nothing. The match was only bright enough to engulf the small area around her in light.

She pressed the match against the candlewick and the light source doubled. It was brighter now, but she still couldn’t see far. Another noise broke out to her left. With apprehension, Megan turned towards it and began to walk. As her feet slapped against the concrete floor, the movement ahead of her increased. Something shifted wildly in the dark. A metallic rattle clanged in the small space.

The candlelight illuminated a dark spot in the corner of the room. Megan almost dropped it from her hand when she saw what it had revealed. A woman in tattered clothing, covered in dirt and dried patches of blood. Her arms were constricted by chains that reached up the ceiling. She rested on her shins. Her matted hair was strewn about her head like a bird’s nest. Megan could barely see the woman’s face. She saw enough to see the woman’s mouth was covered in duct tape.

The woman saw Megan and began to weep. She pulled at the chains, pleading with Megan to set her free. Megan was unable to move. The scene before her was unlike anything she had ever expected. She didn’t know what to do. The chains rattled as the woman pulled at them with all her might, crying a muffled cry under the tape. Her eyes flicked back and forth from Megan to some unseen entity behind her. Megan’s blood ran cold.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” a familiar voice called out from behind. “You weren’t supposed to see this now.”

Megan could hear her father’s footfalls on the concrete floor now. He was only a few feet behind her. She was unsure of what to do. Should she turn to face him or run for the door. She was worried what sort of trouble she would be in.

“Well, I suppose the surprise is ruined now,” her father said. Tears rolled down the woman’s cheeks as he approached behind Megan. She pulled at the chains harder now.

Megan stared at the woman and the two locked eyes. She saw the woman motion her head towards the door, telling her to run. But Megan still could not move. Her body was not responding to any commands.

“Dad,” she said with a tremble in her voice. “What is this?”

Her father let out a laugh.

“It’s yours, Megan. You’re old enough now. I was saving this as a surprise for you. You’ve grown into a fine young woman and I think you’re ready.”

“Ready?” Megan asked, watching the woman’s eyes. She still pleaded with Megan to run for her life. Tears rolled down Megan’s cheeks now.

“Yes, sweetheart. This was meant to be a surprise for you. It wasn’t ready yet. But I suppose now is a good a time as any. Finally, we can share in Daddy’s hobby together.”

“Your hobby is torture and murder?” Megan asked, turning to face her father for the first time.

“Those are such ugly words, sweetheart. Other people don’t understand my hobby and they are forced to label it in terrible ways. But there’s nothing wrong with it. The urges are natural. Trust me. Your father has been doing this since before you were born. And now, I want to share it with you.”

“Share it with me?” Megan’s voice trailed off.

Megan stared at her father with tears in her eyes. She didn’t know what to say. She dared a glance back over her shoulder at the woman bound and gagged. Fear gripped the woman’s face, but she seemed unable to move any longer. Exhaustion was settling in. There was no telling how long this woman had been down here.

“Dad,” she said, looking back at him. “It’s perfect!” She jumped forward and wrapped her arms around her father.

After a long embrace, she turned back towards the chained woman. A new level of fear seemed to envelop her now. She pulled against the chains as she tried to cry out for help. Her muffled screams made Megan laugh.

“Hush, now,” Megan said, approaching. Her dad stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s time we have our fun.”