Shadows of the Past

Chapter 5

The shadows cast a gloomy haze over the door's white surface, making it look ominous. Strangely, the door itself was almost... menacing. It made a chill creep down Aaron's spine.

Was Mya down there?

Sweat pooling upon his forehead, Aaron crept forward toward the door which stood tall above him. It was strange...the door mesmerized him and yet it seemed to scare him at the same time.

A drive to know what was behind it sparked through Aaron's veins like electricity running through his blood. He knew he needed to know.

The only thing that stood between him and the basement was a door. Yet it really wasn't just a door. It was so much more than that.

As Aaron leaned toward the doorknob, he knew he couldn't get through. It was locked. It was always locked. And it would always stay locked. He would never find the truth.

The grimy silver of the locks gleamed coldly up at him, shining with pale moonlight. If only he had the keys. But he didn't.

Sighing, Aaron stood up, staring at the door. If only he could know what was behind it. If only he could know. Only then he wouldn't have to be afraid. He wouldn't have to feel all these anxieties. But that wouldn't happen. Not for now at least.

It was only when Aaron looked down at his feet that he remembered he was looking for Mya. He had to find her.

But what if I can't? What if she's behind the door?

Aaron's eyes flicked back to the door. Maybe he could try to look under the crack of the door? Maybe he could see something then? It was a dumb idea really, but that didn't matter to Aaron.

Heart beginning to thump louder again, Aaron kneeled down, knees touching the cold wooden floor beneath him.

For some reason, he felt cold, dangerously cold. Like maybe something was trying to warn him away from the basement's secrets.

But there wasn't anything down there anyway, was there? And even if there was, it would be too dark to see anything.

Hesitantly, Aaron stuck his head close to the bottom of the door and peeked curiously under the crack. His brown eyes glowed hopefully into the gloom of night.

At first, he only saw pitch-black darkness behind the crack. It engulfed his vision like a storm, like a tsunami suddenly wiping everything out. It was blacker than any blackness that he'd seen before and it sent that extreme cold down his spine. But faintly, as he squinted, he saw something else barely visible in the blackness. It startled him at first, as they were a few inches from his face, but they were there.

Two dark brown feet could be seen right behind the crack. Their color reminded him of melting candy bars on a summer day. Except, he saw other colors than the brown on those feet. Sore, purple bruises crept around the feet, surrounding deep red marks gauged into their skin. Dried blood caked the gashes. The feet were so bruised up, whoever they belonged to must be miserable.

Aaron drew in a sharp breath but kept his head where it was, mesmerized by the sight of the beat-up brown feet. Yet they did not move. Did not even flinch.

Did they belong to a dead person?

Aaron shivered, nearly ready to look away. But he couldn't.

All of a sudden it came together. There was the dark brown face that he'd seen and now the feet. The feet must belong to whoever that person with the dark skin that he'd seen before was. But the real question was: why was that person here and who was he? Was Aaron hallucinating this whole thing? Aaron wished that was the answer but something told him that it wasn't.

Who was it?

Aaron waited for a moment, staring at the feet, trying to take it all in. When they still didn't move, he decided to take action.

"Hello?" He whispered, voice cracking, "Who's there?"

Suddenly, the feet moved, shuffling backward. The floor made low scuffling sound.

Just barely, Aaron thought he heard a whimper from behind the door. His heartbeat ever-so-fast. So they weren't dead. There really was an alive person in the basement. A person he didn't know.

This was insane.

"Why are you down there?" Aaron whispered excitedly, begging for an answer. Please person, please answer me so I can help you. "How did you get down there? Why aren't you answering me?"

Aaron's excitement burst out as a flurry of questions left him. But no matter how many questions he asked, the feet gave him zero answers. They went back to being dead again, the harsh purple bruises and the red gashes etched into their skin making him flinch.

The feet did not shuffle around again. They showed no further signs of life. Yet they had moved that one time. They had moved.

There Aaron still was, head touching the ground, peeking curiously under the crack. The night was so silent around him, he couldn't even hear the cold night air rustle the oak trees.

Maybe the feet weren't there. Maybe, even at this second, he was just hallucinating it all. Maybe he was too tired and his brain was playing tricks on him. And yet the feet were still there, barely visible against the overwhelming blackness that surrounded them. And there was no way to make them move again. There was no use.

He should go back to bed. Why did he come down here anyway? Since when did he ever worry about Mya? This was stupid. Mya could take care of herself. She was fine. Just fine. And still, there was a voice inside him that whispered the opposite.

Mouth drawn into a tight line, Aaron stood up. Reluctantly, he exited the living room, leaving behind the basement door and all its mysteries.