“Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, hmmm…”, there it is again, but so much clearer from the kitchen, and it’s not coming from outside, it’s inside the house? Inside the walls…no in the basement, I realise in that moment that horror movies really do warp a persons’s perception of reality. There’s no bones coming to life in my walls, there’s no haunting ghost vying for my attention to free them from their time in limbo. I should stop watching them as part of my Friday night rituals.

“Thud, thud, thud, hmmm, hmmmm, hmm”, that’s not a squirrel, I definitely don’t have rats, or mice, do I? There’s no food down there, sure tins and cans, but nothing they could smell and tear into. But rodents don’t knock into things they want, and they screech, don’t they?

It’s way too early to play detective, Saturday morning I just want to enjoy some cinnamon crunch and catch-up on some TV.

”Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, hmmmmmmmmmmm”, the muffled sounds of a knocking and what almost sounds like someone creaming into a pillow, A sound you only recognise after trying it yourself. I put away the milk back in the fridge before I even had a chance to pour it, good thing really, didn’t want to have to go down and come back to soggy cereal.

I grab the nightstick flashlight from the cabinet under the sink, and test it for battery power, given that I haven’t had to use it since last Winter, a year is a long time in electronics these days. I remember in the 90s, batteries would last years, literally years in flashlights, remotes, clocks, now you’ll be lucky to get a few months and they drain.

As I tool the first step through the door down to the basement, I played out all possible scenarios and decided I had two approaches to take. I could either creep down the stairs as silently as possible, thankfully I don’t have creaky stairs, and these furry slippers are awesome at dampening the sound of my footsteps. As long as the critter doesn’t hear me or see me, I’ll have the element of surprise…wait what am I going to do when I find it? I can’t clobber a rodent with my flashlight.

Four steps down, and now I’m contemplating the opposite approach, I still can’t see past the supportive wall, if it’s just the washer or dryer going faulty, I can unplug them and scoot back up to enjoy my cold crisp brekkie.

What if I start shouting and rumble down the stairs, I might scare whatever it is…wait no, a scared rodent might leap at me in an attempt to defend itself from a predator, that’s not the vibe I’m going for here. I just need to know what it is, then call an exterminator or rescue centre, even better.

Peering around the wall as I take my 12th step, the flashlight would have given me away to whatever is down here by now…

“eelp” a croaky sound like a voice hits me, sending a chill up my spine in the darkness, like a claw gripping it from behind, I almost fell as I stumbled down the last few steps and dropped the flashlight CLANK, SCROLL, scroll. The flashlight rolls ahead of me, illuminating the rest of the basement as the light sways, if there was someone down here I would have seen them just now.

As I kneel to pick up the flashlight, I straighten up my neck and peer as hard as I can into the dark corners, still unsure about the sound. That’s wasn’t a person, it probably was a creek in the steps, or came from outside, my mind is still calibrating itself for 8am on a weekend.

“Anyone here?” I say, gathering my confidence with my night stick flash light back in my hands. I’m still not sure what to expect, but if someone was down here they would have said or done something by now, I grip the handle of the torch with both hands, I’m ready to swing in the direction of any sounds that rings off from here, critter or not.

“Heeelp, me pleease”, a dry, croaky voice coming from the back of the basement, behind my old storage boxes and suitcases, I can’t see, but my eyes couldn’t have been opened wider by that sound. I’m shaking, my arms recalibrate how I hold the torch, almost like I’m rifling it aiming at a target behind cover.

I side step like a crab, slowly and surely, flashlight still aimed at the corner, unflinchingly ready in my mind to blast the source with all the battery power of the light once they come into view of the crosshairs.

On the ground, a mid-twenties, dishevelled male, lips dry, dark rings around his blue eyes, a towel wrapped around his neck, legs and arms seem frantically bound with plastic rope. What they hell is going on, why, how?

“Who are you, why are you tied up and how did you get in my house?”, I ask, so confused, so surreal, no it’s unreal. Suddenly I think it’s a distraction ploy, I whip back a step with the flashlight directed to the stairs, amplifying what the soft glow from the doorway upstairs was already illuminating the steps down, nothing but dust particles and shadows over there.

Nothing, not a stir, except for the shallow breathing of this man who looks like a kidnap victim in my basement, he looks like he’s been here all week, he’s wrecked, dehydrated, and tired, there’s no blood on him or his clothes, but he looks in a bad way. He shifts awkwardly, attempting to sit up as much as his bound legs allow.

“I don’t know you…and don’t know how I got here…but I know who did this…” he stops and tries to take a deep breath, I want to untie him, I want to get him a glass of water, but I can’t trust him yet, but he is the victim of a crime no matter how I look at it.

”If I untie you will you attack me, I want to help you, but it might better if I call the police and an ambulance” I say to him as reassuringly as I can, I’m shaking, I look like the criminal here.

”NO, no police, I’m not going to hit you, I need you to ring my cousin, he’ll pick me up, COUGH, cough, *can I get some water please, you can cut me out I won’t attack you, I swear”, He meant what he said, he really did, he doesn’t want the authorities involved, I can understand that, but I’m at risk here, but he’s really wrecked, I pull out my keys and flick out my tiny pen knife used to open delivery boxes, a little sawing later and the rope has an opening, he’s not even giving it any energy to get out of them.

”Look, I’ll help you up, have something to drink and eat, and tell me who put you here, and how, when you have been brought here? This is seriously insane for me to even comprehend”, I tell him honestly, if he asks for a full English and a cup of Yorkshire Tea, I’ll make it, it feels like I just saved a life.

”I’ve been here at least 2 nights…any longer and I might have died…I owe money to someone and he had me taken and beaten…feels like my left ribs are broken…I really need some water…please” he’s really struggling to get up and get the words out at the same time, I help lift him into a standing position, with his arm wrapped over my shoulders and across the back of my neck, I use my left arm to support and lift him as much as possible while taking small steps towards the stairs.

”Who was it, you need to tell me, whatever is going on, I need to know why they left you in my basement.” My mind is rushing trying to make sense of this, was it my neighbour? No chance. Am I being set-up, I don’t have a beef for anyone to be playing this level on mad games with me. We shuffle up the stairs, with each step he seems to be regaining life, and energy, the light on his face reveals how disheveled and bruised he is, but no blood, his face was cleaned…with disinfectant…I can smell it, what the hell is going on.

”Saleem…he runs the dock…” WTF are the words playing on repeat in my head as he speaks. I’ve sat him at the kitchen table, he’s sipping water slowly his hand is shaking. I’m shaking.

”I was late on repayments, he said I would know how it feels when you’re waiting for what’s owed to you and had his people beat me unconscious and brought here”. He looks as lost as I felt, it doesn’t make sense, it’s like he was meant to be found, by me.

”Saleem is a dangerous man, he runs the dock and controls heroin and the import of all other drugs into the Northwest”. He’s still speaking and I’m zoning out…

I muster enough clarity to say something that will confuse him as much as me, ”Saleem is my boss...”