Eli's hands trembled as he turned the rusted key over in his palm. It was old, its edges worn smooth, as if it had been handled a thousand times before.
A part of him wanted to throw it away. Bury it. Pretend he never found it.
But the whispering wouldn't stop.
Faint. Persistent.
"Come back… please…"
The basement door.
He had to know.
—
The house was quiet when he crept downstairs. His parents were asleep. His sister's door was shut. Outside, the wind howled through bare branches, rattling against the windows.
He reached the basement door and hesitated.
It was closed again.
He knew he had seen it open last night. But now, it looked undisturbed, like it had always been this way. Like it wanted him to doubt himself.
His fingers tightened around the key.
This is a bad idea.
But his body moved on its own. Slowly, he slid the key into the rusted lock.
A click.
The air seemed to pull inward. The house groaned.
Eli turned the knob.
The door swung open.
Cold air rushed past him, thick with the scent of damp stone and something rotting. A staircase stretched downward, far deeper than it should have. The dim basement lights flickered, unable to reach the bottom.
It wasn't the same basement anymore.
He took a step inside.
The whispering stopped.
Dead silence.
His skin prickled. The darkness ahead was suffocating, pressing against him like a living thing.
Then, from deep below, a sound rose.
A slow, deliberate knocking.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three times. From the bottom of the stairs.
Then—
A voice, sharp and clear.
"Come down, Eli."
The basement door slammed shut behind him.