What Comes From Below | Teen Ink

What Comes From Below

May 3, 2009
By Emily Pielemeier BRONZE, Carmel, Indiana
Emily Pielemeier BRONZE, Carmel, Indiana
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Nothing was worse than being grounded to an empty house on Halloween. Talk about torture. While all her friends and family were out partying or grubbing for candy, Marissa was stuck in her house. At least she had her computer back after being taken away for a few weeks. Hazel eyes skimmed emails that had piled up, from the regular chatter that turned into letters of concern since she hadn’t replied. Well, it was no fun just typing up some apology letter to all those friends.

She was just about to log off when another email popped up. Not bothering to look at the message’s details, she opened it up. A surprised gasp escaped from her parted lips. Though there were only a few words typed on the email, it sent a chill encasing her whole body. Just then she realized the email address of the unknown sender: Darkestshadow@yahoo.com.

A sudden urge to turn off the computer came, and she unplugged it. Without the general hum of the computer, the silence pressed her ears. Unease spread through her body as she thought she heard the creak of the basement door being opened. Marissa stood and, with an attempt to keep from losing her sanity and from screaming at the top of her lungs, walked over to check if the doors were locked.

Passing the door leading to the basement, she unconsciously noticed the door was left ajar. Testing the lock on the last door, she found her palms sweaty. She knew she should look in the basement. Since standing in front of the computer she had already known that she hadn’t been hearing things.

Someone was inside her house, and she had a feeling that it wasn’t her little sister in her princess outfit. Gathering the last of her nerve, she walked silently as she could towards the basement door. She wasn’t sure what she was about to do was either brave or stupid. She swung the door all the way open, and a scent of fermentations washed over her.

Marissa’s basement wasn’t anything special. It had no carpet and no wallpaper, the whole floor one large room of concrete. Her parents’ memorable and favorite wine was stored here, so the place was more like a wine cellar. She stepped down the creaky steps, one at a time. She made the turn in the hallway. And in the room in front of her was something so scary it would’ve haunted her dreams for nights if she had lived for more than another few seconds. In front of her was a tall, pale man with dark red eyes the color of blood. He smiled, licking his glistening fangs.


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