The Cellar Killing

A horror story I wrote. The idea came to me at a really weird time...

               Clara Benton heard some movement in the cellar about half an hour ago and decided to go check it out. The lantern that usually sat on a shlef wasn't there. She thought she could see anyways so she reluctantly moved the rug on the floor to reveal the door of the cellar. She climbed down the creaking stairway, and her shoes echoed through the silent darkness as they hit the rocky ground. Sweat hung onto her forehead then raced down her brow leaving a trail behind them.

She walked aimlessly into the darkness, motioning with her hands for any unwanted objects that might block her path. There was another lantern that usually sat on an old desk that her grandfather had put in a few weeks before. She moved torward the back wall where the desk sat dusty in the corner.

 As she staggered forward, a hostile smell became more and more vivid as she progressed to the dark wall.

                The cellar was dark, but a faint light left a trail onto the stone floor. The light came from the kitchen and shone dimly through the cellar stairs. Clara followed the light to its end. She took another step and a heavy object knocked her to her feet. She curled her legs up pulled her knees to her chest. Squinting her eyes shut, she felt the cold floor and shuttered.

She lifted her head and her eyes wildly darted around the room. Her heart beat, her head was spinning, and her uncontrolled emotion left her shaking. She did not know what lie before her, for no movement was seen but only grave silence.

When her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, she managed to make out a large body lying next to her. Fear rushed through her body and shivers ran down her spine. She stuck out a cold hand and laid it on the chest of the mysterious entity. She didn’t know who it was, but whoever this was, was dead.

Her hand moved aimlessly around searching for proof. Anything? No, only a vague feeling that she knew this person. She squatted and leaned close to the persons face. As the features of the face was suddenly revealed, she jerked back into a sitting position and was still…stunned. Her lip quivered and she squeezed her eyes as hard as she could. Her hands drew to her face as she sobbed helplessly.

                She could not calm herself and grabbed his cold hand and brought it to her cheek. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a hoarse whisper came. The word echoed through her mind as she repeated it.

“Grammpa!!!” she said, holding his rough, cold hand in hers. “You…you…Don’t Go! Please! I need you!” Her voice was no longer a whimper but a solid cry for help.

Clara’s thoughts clouded her brain and stuffed it with helpless cries for ansers. Before she could make anything out, a thump summoned her attention. Everything was lighter now, for she had adjusted to the darkness. She looked up at the stairway that she had come in and the lights up there suddenly went out. Everything went black again. Then she heard a noise; a clank of some sort that came from above.

She grasped her grandfather’s hand and looked around trying to find a place to hide. But before she could move a muscle, a strange noise made her jerk her head. It was a match! A few unknown noises were heard and she wiped her brow searching for answers. She knew it was the killer. She knew he wanted her blood. He wanted her dead. She had NO clue why, she didn't knew who this was, but he had killed her grandfather and wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.  

She stood quietly and tip toed to an old desk that sat, dusty in the corner. Looking back at her dead grandfather, she turned away in disgrace of his bloody body and scooted under the half broken desk. Her mind was racing and then everything was blank for a minute and she was shaking violently.

Footsteps, slowly but steadily, walked towards the stairs to the cellar.

 The first step was sudden, the second expected, but the third…was agonizing. But the seventh was the worst for his full figure came to view as Clara peeked through a large crack on the desk. He was lean and tall, and in his left hand he carried a dim lantern and in his right…was a dirty, bloody knife.

 She yanked her hand to her mouth but it was too late…he had heard her gasp. His hooded head turned slowly in her direction. She couldn’t make out a face but noted that his cloak only covered half of his body. He reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped to the ground. With every step he took, the wind grew murky and death was crawling along, waiting to strike. A  smell of rotten flesh filled her nostrils and her body stiffened so she couldn’t move.

The lantern hung below his torso and she could see his black ragged pants that practically hung to his coal colored skin. He was barefooted and didn’t make much noise as he drew closer, but there was a faint sound of drums that seemed to exist in her head. He was now only a body’s length away and she looked down at her hands that lay on her knees, grabbing at each other as her body violently shook as if trying to rid the fear. He took a few more steps and sat the knife down on the desk along with the lantern. He moved slowly and grabbed her arm and pulled her up. Grabbing the knife and the lantern, he put the lantern in between their faces.

                “W-what do you want from me?” Clara’s voice was shaky and full of terror.

The evil demon turned his face towards hers and as his face became clear, her mouth gaped open as she stood there; terrified. He had only one eye and a bloody socket for the other. His skin was white but stained with blood and charcoal. His mouth was sliced and bleeding and saliva rolled down his chin. He only had a few teeth and they were stained yellow. The shapes of the teeth were of a phantom and craved for blood.

                Clara’s eyes widened at the sight and a harsh scream came from her opened mouth. The phantom looked into her eyes with his only one. The yellow eye rolled and looked about to fall out. She ended her cry for she knew that there was no hope, but before she could gasp at the freakish eye, a whisper brushed at her ear. She couldn’t understand what the phantom was trying to say for his voice was raspy and all she could make out was a gargle. He opened his mouth and gagged turning to spit out blood that flooded his mouth. He turned to her and tried again.

“Kkkkkaahhhh…Cllahhh…Claraaa!” He pulled the knife to her neck and greedily swiped until satisfied.

Clara did not remember anything else for she was on the ground in a few seconds…dead.

 

A newspaper boy yelled on the streets of the small town “Gal and Grandpa found dead in a cellar! Who’s to blame?” He waved the roll of paper into the face of Harry Benton, Clara’s long lost brother, who grabbed it and through a coin at the boy. He eagerly searched at the pages until he found the headline:                             Girl and Grandfather found dead in their cellar

“An eleven year old young lady, Clara Benton, and her Grandfather, Barry Benton, were found brutally scattered around their cellar. There was a large knife lying in the corner with still wet blood drying on it. The mailman found them there when he was delivering a package to the miss and knew she was expecting it. Clara had lost her parents in the war of 1812 and lived with her grandfather. Her brother, Harry Benton, is still lost after the war and they never could find him. More news about this tragedy will be announced later on at their funeral: Friday, September 16, 1815 three days after the finding. Our regrets and apologies to the Benton family for not being kind to them for they weren’t much interacted with their community…

From,

Gavin and Sherri McGraw"

            Harry fell to his knees, sobbing into his hands as he dropped the crumpled paper. His thoughts rushed and a quick image of his little sister being stabbed by a masked man haunted his brain. His lips quivered and he moaned quietly. He thought to himself, I'll bet that man I met has something to do with this. He remembered a fellow he met at the stock market and

 

Author's Note

It needs a lot of work and I'm going to make it longer. Like her brother tries to find the killer or something like that...I'm not sure yet. Tell me what you think: should it be scarier? more detailed? whatever you think...

Reviews

[Daniel]

"shuttered" should be "shuddered"
"As the features of the face was" -- was should be were.
"grabbed it and through" -- through should be threw.

I agree with the reviews below mine. It was a good read, but I felt like you left things out. Why did she go down there? How did she not know her grandfather was missing? How come they could never find the brother?
Also, it wasn't necessarily scary. Kind of suspenseful but not too much. I think it could use a bit of description also.

Stephen King once said, "Write as if you're making a movie. EVERYTHING that happens is relevant, so write EVERYTHING that happens, no matter how small."
---- It was something like that. Haha. And I agree with his quote.----

Anyway, I liked it. :)

[Red Raven]

'"Kkkkkaahhhh�Cllahhh�Claraaa!" He pulled the knife to her neck and greedily swiped until satisfied.'
-I love this line. It's gives a chill up your spine.

It would be nice if you can continue with the story from the brother. But was Clara only 9 years old? There seems to be no free flow of the story and i feel that the beginningis very sudden. No scene of how she landed up there and why etc etc. Normally we use torch or candle when we go to the cellar (If there is no electricity). Why did'nt she use it? What is the history background of the house? What is the interest of the killer? Is it blood or some long unforgotten revenge?

The scene was very well written. It was a nice read though. Please notify me when you re-polish the story.
Thanks for sharing.

[Ben]

Well, it's pretty good. Not exactly scary though. There are some things that could be changed though. Why did she go in the cellar, anyway? and this part, 'Sweat hung onto her forehead and loosened, ' I don't really understand how sweat can loosen. 'She did not know what lie before her,' it should be lay, not lie. It could be a little bit more descriptive, but besides that, it's pretty good!