_Knock knock!_

The same damn knocking. It has been a week since moving in and I can’t stop hearing this same damn knocking.

Where is it coming from? Hell if I know. It’s not the front door, the back door, nor any window. I have looked everywhere.

Everything about this place was night; a landlord who does their job correctly, it was in a good neighborhood, and the layout was perfect along with storage. It was a new sight to see, definitely not something I’d see from the poor area I grew up in.

The only thing that irritated me was this knocking that I’ve been hearing for these past few days.

The knocks gave me an eerie feeling: a knock symbolizes someone trying to enter, this persisten knocking felt like an exit. Fuck I need to go to sleep, I’m starting to think bullsh—

**_BANG BANG_**!

I jolted up with a scream, waking my cat from his rest in the process. I grabbed my phone, putting it in my pocket while whispering soft apologies to Buster. A loud groan left my throat as I finally stood up and stomped toward the now-soft knocking, with Buster following behind me. I looked around the kitchen, livingroom, dining room… the knocking stopped as soon as I got downstairs though.

“What the fuck…” I groan out while rubbing two hands over my face.

I flinched with a gasp hearing one loud bang. The bang sent vibration up from my feet to my scalp, it shook my soul. My cat had no reaction surprisingly, like he didn’t feel it at all. I clutched my chest with soft pants that left my lips. I walked toward the loud bang that was now— once again— timid knocking. I knelt down onto the floor in the hallway, pressing my head against the floor, listening. Actually, forget about the floor… I looked closely at the wall infront of me. The paint was jacked up there. The paint was smooth on ever part of these walls, it was jacked up right there though, in a perfect square, too perfect.

I stood up and walked into my kitchen, grabbing a knife and returning. I began cutting the outline of the jacked up square. I grunted, putting all my strength into my wrist. Finally, the square fell forward, I rubbed my stiff wrist with a soft sigh. I looked forward, and now I was even more confused.

Throughout the house, the walls were made of concrete. This square was made of something lighter, like drywall. I looked back at the wall, now there was darkness. A passageway. It didn’t look hollow, it looked like I would go in there and fall a deep drop, or get snatched up, or maybe even find a bear. I shakily sighed and took my phone from my pocket, turning on the flashlight.

Still dark, empty, quiet.

I shined the light lower, and I seen stairs.

All of a sudden, Buster’s back raised and he began hissing, his pupils constricted in thin black slits as he backed away from the entrance. I cooed to my cat and tried petting him to soothe him, but Buster ran upstrairs.

I sighed and looked toward the entrance, shining my flashlight at the stairs again.

My chest began hurting, pounding. My gut told me to go down but my brain told me to board it up and never come back to it. My head began aching horribly, like a hammer was smashing it. Something about this entry made my stomach turn uncomfortablely. I was about to get up and leave, to go upstairs with my cat.

**_“HELP!”_**

It was a loud, elongated scream. It sounded like a child. A boy. A pained scream that made my head pound more. The screams kept coming, coming from that dark entry. Hearing a kid in need, my instincts made me act quickly.

“I’m coming, don’t be scared!” I screamed, quickly crawling through the square.

I expected the screams to get louder, but they got quieter the closer I got. _Maybe the kid calmed down after seeing help?_ I looked around with my flashlight as I crawled down the stairs, still dark. I suddenly felt a strong tug at my hand, and a holler left my lips as I began tumbling down the concrete stairs. I fell to the bottom with a loud thud and I cried out in pain with holding my side.

I sat up and looked around. I squinted at a lantern in the distance that dimly lit up the area around it. The fire was still lit inside the lantern… but with all the dust I’m barely seeing, you would think this place was old. How was the fire there and still lit in the first place?

With some pained grunts and groans, I stood up and walked toward it, holding my side that I fell on. I picked up the lantern and brought it in front of me. It was so dark I couldn’t even see the stairs anymore. I walked around. It felt like an empty maze. I kept walking and walking until I finally seen a light switch. Almost immediately I flicked it on and looked around, taking in my surrroundings.

The only thing that I took in was the fact that there was no kid.

“Hello?! Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you!” I raised my voice so anyone could hear me. It was dead silent.

The floors were concrete, as were the walls… hell, everything was concrete. The light was dim, lighting the room but not enough to light the corners. There were boxes and objects scattered.

_I should go upstairs and tell my landlord, I had no business being in here. _

My chest began hurting again, but I tried to ignore it as I pulled out my phone. I seen SOS at the top right of my screen, meaning zero signal. My wifi should be on? The service wasn’t bad when I first moved in.

I walk around, examining the objects. They were old, no older than 20-40 years ago. I picked up a piece of paper and blew the dust off of it, seeing a picture. There was a young man, very handsome, alongside with a cute young boy. They looked nothing alike, I’m pretty sure they were not related whatsoever. The man had white skin, blue eyes, and brown hair that stopped at his ears. The young boy had dark brown skin that shined in the light, dark brown eyes, and his head shaved. I was about to place the picture back down until I seen lines on the floor.

Tally markings.

“Five, ten, fifth teen…” I muttered to myself as I looked at all the tally markings. There was so many, 10 seconds in and I already counted 30.

I put the picture in my pocket and I look at more items. More pictures of other people, all children. Little girls and boys of different demographics who all looked like they didn’t want their picture taken.

I continued looking, finding some old CDs, forks and plates, normal stuff to put in a basement. None of these things were packaged though. Maybe the CDs, but the utensils and plates were scattered on the floor with old food on it. I picked up an old plate with a grimace. I need to throw these away later.

I turned the plate around and seen a number. A phone number, it looked like it was written in marker. There a something written under the number it but it was scratched out.

_Wait_.

I opened my phone and scrolled through my contacts, clicking on my landlord, Brian Dretal. I knew it looked familiar. Why was his number on an old plate?

He used to live here, this was probably his basement.

Maybe I was so freaked out that I heard a boy scream? I have been sleep deprived..

I sigh and rub my eyes. I need to go to work in 3 hours, I’ll tell Brian about this junk tomorrow. I began walking toward the concrete stairs. I heard something move against the concrete floor behind me, I flinched, hastily taking out the knife I still had and turned around.

There was now a box in the center of the room.

“Hello?” I said more softly, more timid.

My head began pounding again as I walked toward the box. I knelt down and opened it, that was when a strong, foul odor hit my senses. It was the type of odor that made your eyes water and stomach flip. I held my mouth, restricting my gags. I shined my flashlight in the box.

I seen chains, a muzzle, a rusted axe, and CDs. Everything was rusted and smelled horrible. I brought my flashlight closer and loudly gasped.

I crawled backward, accidentally kicking the box and bent to the side, the puke leaving my mouth and spalshing onto the floor. I coughed into my elblow as I looked at the items that were now on the floor. The items… along with tiny fingers, four of them. They were small, dark fingers, as small as a child’s.

I widened my eyes while panting. My head began pounding harder, sounding like a drum, and my stomach twisted. My flashlight shined on the bottom of the tipped over box. I seen writing in black marker.

**BRIAN DRETAL #4**