Daddy's Little Girl
“Then she put out a hand and touched the doorknob.
The door opened with no problem.
Last night, after being knocked unconscious, and not by any bat, either, Minerva had made herself a promise. She was going to go into the basement and check it out thoroughly.
Over the years the curious noises had continued. Seeping up from the basement like poison gases.
There had to be an explanation.
A logical one.
Minerva, her heart hammering, widened the door even more, then peered down into the darkness of ...the stairs.
A strange sense of void filled the woman, as if she was looking down into the center of a vortex.
Summoning her strength, she put out a tentative foot and started down the steps, clipping on the light as she moved.
The basement was broken up into a wide, empty concrete area, to the right of which lay small cubicles constructed of wood that always smelled like autumn to Minerva, a damp, leafy odor.
The cubicles stretched back the entire length of the house. Each was dark, empty, from the days decades ago when antiques had been stored in them, the Foster clan in those days having been collectors.MoreLess
The door opened with no problem.
Last night, after being knocked unconscious, and not by any bat, either, Minerva had made herself a promise. She was going to go into the basement and check it out thoroughly.
Over the years the curious noises had continued. Seeping up from the basement like poison gases.
There had to be an explanation.
A logical one.
Minerva, her heart hammering, widened the door even more, then peered down into the darkness of ...the stairs.
A strange sense of void filled the woman, as if she was looking down into the center of a vortex.
Summoning her strength, she put out a tentative foot and started down the steps, clipping on the light as she moved.
The basement was broken up into a wide, empty concrete area, to the right of which lay small cubicles constructed of wood that always smelled like autumn to Minerva, a damp, leafy odor.
The cubicles stretched back the entire length of the house. Each was dark, empty, from the days decades ago when antiques had been stored in them, the Foster clan in those days having been collectors.MoreLess
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