Sitting up on the couch with my arms on my thighs, fingers entwined together, I gazed out the double window. At my very feet, beaten and exhausted by its own loss of energy, lied Sam. Sam’s pupil was dilated as it squinted. Do I bring it up? Now would be the perfect time, seeing that Sam can’t escape from me. But, it hid the basement from me, knowing full well that I would be curious. Time to be resolute…

I squatted, sure that I could glimpse the reaction from Sam, and its eye hovered to me. “What is it?” Sam asked, forcing out a teensy voice.

“Sam.” I grabbed hold of my knees. “I know about the basement.”

It widened its eye, then looked towards the floor and groaned, “Mmm.” I suspect that Sam had tried to float so that it could run away. But, it failed and so experienced pain from the backlash.

“You know you can’t run, so there isn’t a point in trying.” Sam shot its eye back, a fierce glare pointed at me. “Wha-, you, why are you so defiant?” I asked.

“Girl, you reach too far, back away or your soul itself shall be torn asunder. The time is not now, wait, and I will give you the answer you seek.” Sam said, a voice deeper than ever before. So many changes in pitch done by this eyeball.

“Girl, huh…” I glared back. “I don’t care what you say, it may be a lie. Speak up, Sam, the truth is what I want to hear!”

Sam flinched, stuttering, “I-I can’t, you mustn’t.”

“Must not what?! Believe these lies and follow in your truth. There is no such thing!” I forced myself to my feet. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll go and see for myself.”

“Wait, please,” Sam said, making a wispy plea, “Gray, if you go, you’ll be in danger. He isn’t going to stop, no, he’ll do anything to achieve his goal now.”

Sam’s warning meant nothing to me. What words were believable from a scoundrel? None whatsoever. “He, wait, Oliver?” A contemptuous laugh bellowed from me. “Not only the basement, but you’ve told me other lies. What else could there be Sam?”

“Gray, forget that!” Sam yelled. “If we are to stop him, I need your help. I swear I won’t lie again. If you go there alone, you will walk right into your own doom.”

“As I said, I don’t care.” I walked out of the living room. Passing by the figure of Sophie, who had hidden herself behind the doorframe, I stopped and looked at her. “Sophie, what are you doing here?” I asked, the back of my mind reminiscent of my dream.

Stolen novel; please report.

A brow cocked, she replied, “Came down to cook, but I saw you two having an argument. Figured I would bide my time until it was over, are you two done with your dispute?”

“Yes, I’ve come to my decision.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

“Only to believe in myself.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “I see that you are alone, like me.” Sophie then treaded to the kitchen, ignoring the miserable state that was Sam.

“…I hope not,” I whispered before heading to the wall under the staircase.

My hand touched on the stone, sliding it down the crevices between the bricks, I loomed over it. It shouldn’t have, but hesitation churned within my soul. I don’t believe it’s words, but Sam was awfully worried. No, fear is the weakness of the spirit. It’s dark and night is my friend, so be brave, Gray. Spurring myself on, I went through the wall.

“Huh?!”

I fell straight down, face first into a pile of ashes.

“Ack, where the hell are the stairs?” I looked up, only to see where they once were. A wall covered in soot and a door burned to the shade of black.

“Oh, right.” My senses returning, I peered throughout the room. Nothing. I came expecting to meet a man wearing strange clothes. But, all that I saw in the room was an old beaten crate and the door painted on the wall. “Was Sam pulling my leg? That can’t be, it was as serious as I’ve seen Sam.”

“Hm, the door.” My feet planted on the floor now, I walked over to the door from Jason’s memories. “The red lines are no longer faded, and what is this white paint?” White lines were on the inside of the door, the parts that were pointed touched a tad on the red lines. It’s shape; a six-sided star, over a circle. In the space between them, there were hard to read letters.

I ran a finger over the letters as I read them off, “...M… I… L… C… O… M. Milcom, huh, does it have some sort of meaning?” I wanted to ponder over the name, but the thought was useless since I knew nothing about it. So, I chunked it out of mind and focused on Oliver.

“If the man himself isn’t here, then…” I thought long and hard to search through my memory. “The only other person I’ve seen involved with this basement is Ellie. Does Oliver have a connection to her too? Ahhh, the dots are starting to connect, I should hurry to find her. They’re bound to be speaking right now.”

I floated to where I came from, going through the wall again. Since Sophie was in the kitchen, instead of searching the house for Ellie. I thought to ask her, far easier a task than the former. Passing Sam, who grumbled some words my way, I entered the kitchen. Sophie stood in front of the stove, steam rolling over her face as water boiled in a pot. She stirred it with a wooden spoon and poured noodles into the water.

“Hey, Sophie, do you know where Ellie is?” I asked.

She tilted her head up, her eyes running across the ceiling. “I think she and that boy left earlier, what was his name again? Ah, screw it, I don’t care anyway.”

“Thanks.” I went back to the living room, placing my rump on the same spot I had left earlier. That was a waste of time. I leaned down to look at Sam, For now though, I can get Sam to clear up some things for me. Especially in regards to how Ellie and Oliver are related, after all, isn’t she supposed to be ‘ghost repellant’.