What Dwells Below
Victor had always been afraid of the basement. It was dark even with the lights on and the shadows seemed to come alive when he went down there. The sounds of small things scurrying and the tang of mold had him convinced something lived down there. He was always quick to get what he needed from the basement and flee in something approximating terror.
Eventually, he found it was true. Victor had been sent down to the basement to retrieve a bag of ice from the freezer. The basement seemed even darker. He drifted on uncertain feet to the freezer. The scuttling noises seemed to get louder. Victor felt like he was being watched.
When he reached the freezer a shadow seemed to coalesce in the corner. It had a vague humanoid shape but stood only a few inches tall. Victor ran up the steps without having made a conscious choice to do so. The door slammed shut and he dropped to the ground panting.
“Victor, honey what’s the matter?” his mother asked. She walked over to him, face creased with concern.
“I…saw…something…in the basement.”
“It’s ok Victor, it was probably just a rat. I’ll send Mittens down later to get rid of it.”
“It wasn’t a rat Mom.”
“Then what was it?”
“I think it was a monster.”
Victor’s parents tried help with his fear of the basement. Every few days one of them would take him down the steps into the basement just to prove there was no monster. The problem was, Victor saw the monster every time, but his parents didn’t. It would stand in the center of the room watching him hungry intensity. With every visit it would become a little bigger, more defined. Although, it never left the basement, Victor started having nightmares of it dragging him into the basement and eating him. He always woke, his sheets soaked with sweat, a chasm of dread in his stomach.
Victor’s parents had a date. It was an expensive, non-reschedulable date that they had been looking forward to for weeks. They left him in the care of Mrs. Jenkins, their next door neighbor.
“Mittens!” Victor called, “Where are you, dumb cat?” He walked around the house, shaking her food bowl.
Victor hadn’t seen the cat all day. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal until he realized her food bowl was still full. To say Mittens never missed a meal was a gross understatement. If she decided it was time to eat, she ate. Victor’s parents had been forced to put a padlock on the fridge after she stole the turkey for Thanksgiving.
He searched the first and second floors and only found Mrs. Jenkins asleep on the couch. That only left the basement. The monster had never actually tried to hurt him, but if Mittens was down there he wasn’t going to leave her. Victor took deep breath and opened the door. A void greeted him on the side of the door. The light from the kitchen didn’t seem to penetrate the complete blackness that reigned beyond the door. “Mittens!” he called into the gloom. But she did not call back. Summoning the courage that had allowed him to try the drop at Kings Island and sing a solo in front of the whole school, Victor grabbed a flashlight and ventured into the bowels of his home.
Even with his halogen flashlight, he couldn’t see far. The blackness seemed to absorb the light. The stair complained vigorously with every step and the sweet scent of mold invaded his breaths. The floor was littered with crap. Victor stumbled through papers, cardboard, cans, and what felt like half a bike. Heart pounding, he concentrated on the faint sound of chewing. He shined the flashlight in the corner where he heard the noise. The direct light revealed Victor’s first clear view of his tormentor.
The thing was two feet tall, covered in black, matted fur. It turned in response to the light, a bloody carcass clamped in its clawed hands. It resembled a chimpanzee, squat and powerful. Its red eyes glittered with malicious glee.
Victor was torn between fleeing in abject terror and throwing up. The carcass was wearing Mittens’s collar. The monster dropped Mittens’s remains and advanced on Victor. A wet dog smell comingled with the coppery tang of blood filled his nostril and decided him on the puking issue. He splattered the floor with his lunch and then bolted up the steps.
Victor didn’t stop until he was in his room. The door was locked and barred by his dresser and he was buried under his blankets. His body trembled with shock. Images of the monster and Mitten’s body flashed through his mind.
It had never left the basement, but it had never hurt anyone either. Seconds passed like a glacier forming. His mouth felt dry and his stomach twisted. Victor released a sigh just as the basement door creaked open. Bare, shuffling feet slapped hardwood. It was loose in his house.
It must still be hungry. He was the only thing left to eat, him and Mrs. Jenkins.
His fear withered under a sudden burst of anger. That furry freak killed Mittens. He wouldn’t allow anyone else meet the same fate. Victor was not a child who backed down from fear. Now he knew what he faced. He fought Jimmy Olson at recess only a week ago, and Victor was convinced the fourth grader was at least part gorilla.
Too angry to be afraid, Victor armed himself for battle. His armor, a hockey mask and the knee and elbow pads his mother insisted he wear when skateboarding. His weapon, the lucky aluminum bat he made seven homeruns with, okay six.
Thusly armed Victor pushed the dresser out of the way and approached the door. His hand quivered as he reached for the door handle. “I wouldn’t do that,” said a small voice.
Victor jerked around, bat poised to strike, nothing. The room was empty. “Who’s there?” he croaked.
“Down here.”
Victor looked down and saw nothing.
“Further.”
Victor looked at his feet. Standing at his toes was a spider the size of a rat. “Hello,” it said.
They stood frozen as Victor’s anguished brain tried to make sense of the newest development. It was wearing a hat and smoking a cigar. The spider broke the silence. “Kid, the thing down there is bad news, no doubt. But on your own, it’ll take you apart.”
“You’re a talking spider.”
“Is this really all that shocking after finding out a troll is living in your basement?”
“Yes. It just looks like a weird primate. Spiders don’t even have vocal cords.”
“I’m not your average spider.”
Victor sank to his knees to better see, he had always been fascinated by spiders. “Why do you care if I fight that thing or not? We just met.”
“Quite simple really, I want to eat it.”
“What?”
“Geez kid, did I stutter? I’ll say it slow this time. I. Want. To. Eat. It.”
“Why?”
“Call it instinct. When I see that thing, I can tell it’ll be tasty.”
“So you’ll help me?”
“Sure thing, with my help it won’t know what hit it.”
Victor considered his options. He was already going to fight the monster. What did it matter if this weird, yet awesome, spider helped? Maybe it had a poison bite or something. Besides the thought of that-troll?-being eaten appealed to Victor’s sense of justice. “Alright, you help me kill it and you can eat it.” He extended his hand. “My name is Victor.”
The spider shook one of Victor’s fingers with a foreleg. “The name’s Anansi.”
Introductions out of the way, Anansi climbed up Victor’s arm and perched on his shoulder. Oddly reassured by the spider’s presence, Victor opened the door.
It was as if the basement’s darkness had spread to the whole house. When the door opened darkness filled his room. “What happened?”
“Trolls like the dark,” Anansi explained, “They take it with them.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m not sure. I just know. It’s in my blood, my being.”
Victor groped around his room until he found a flashlight. Its anemic light was less than reassuring. He crept out on the landing, bat held before him. The light raked back and forth revealing half seen movement. The stair was quieter than the one in the basement but it still announced his descent with soft whispering.
The ground floor seemed an alien environment. All the familiar objects morphed into deadly apparitions. One of the shapes lashed out, gashing his arm. Victor shouted, and flailed the bat wildly. A chance swing clipped something that screeched. He heard it retreat down the stairs. Incensed he pursued it.
He found it seated on the couch next to Mrs. Jenkins. It put a claw to pursed lips and ran its hand down her sleeping form. Victor froze. It could tear her apart with ease and they both knew it. His heart started beating painfully and the troll inhaled like he had seen some adults do when smoking. It breathed like it was savoring something.
“Keep it busy, kid,” whispered Anansi, “I’m going to go say hi.”
He felt the strange spider dart down his back and onto the ground. Victor eyed the troll, who seemed perfectly happy to stare at him and grin.
A darker shape streaked up the couch and onto the trolls arm. Its grin became a pained grimace. It howled and thrashed, trying to swat the shadow from its fur. The shadow streaked across its torso, leaving a trail that glittered in the light. “Kid, my sting slowed it down, but if you don’t do something more than rubberneck it’ll still break through my web.”
The troll seemed more concerned with Anansi than Victor, his head was completely unprotected. It was like playing t-ball. He wound up, and Home Run! The disgusting thing crumpled and he hit it a couple more times before he realized it wasn’t getting back up. Dead, it smelled even worse, but his stomach just barely controlled itself. Victor’s bat was stained by black gore and his arm was stained red. His mind was swamped by satisfaction, residual terror, and a reemerging sorrow for Mittens. Somehow Mrs. Jenkins had remained asleep throughout the fight. Anansi hadn’t stopped spinning silk and the troll was encased from chest to foot. “You did great kid, couldn’t have done it without you.”
Victor ignored him. He dropped the bat, and tore off his pads and mask. The stair groaned in sympathy as he trudged down to the basement to retrieve Mittens’ remains. Hands trembling, he collected the bones, fur and collar.
Victor’s backyard was a tree filled expanse of grass. Mittens was laid to rest under the weeping willow. A geode from Victor’s collection was her grave marker. Only after burying her did he notice the gashes on his arm. “Those don’t look so good, bucko.”
Victor jumped. Anansi hung in front of his face from a line of web, his face in an expression Victor assumed was concern. “I can patch that up if you like.”
Silently, Victor extended his arm. The strange spider hopped onto his arm and encased it from wrist to just before the elbow in a cocoon of web. “That’ll hold for a bit, just don’t get it wet.” Victor remained quiet, tears slid unacknowledged done his face. “I’ll be hanging around the basement if you need me. It’ll take more than one sitting to polish such a big meal.”
Anansi hopped from Victor’s arm and scuttled towards the house. “Hey, Anansi?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you just eat trolls or other monsters too?”
“All sorts, why?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s something living in the attic, too.”
HA!
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