Although I couldn’t see, something told me that I wasn’t alone in the cellar. Maybe it was the way the water changed tones as it dripped from the pipe onto the ground. Perhaps it was how before my flashlight had died I had come down here to investigate what had caused the ruckus I had heard. The cellar was damp and musty, not a single thing of value down here but heirlooms were placed in totes on the floor. The door upstairs had slammed shut all the light that had once flooded down the staircase whisked away in one movement. But now as I stood holding my breath I could hear it. The faint steps masked by soft breathing. The sound of metal bumping concrete making my skin become riddled in goosebumps. Whatever, or whoever was with me in my cellar was not happy, and my heart betrayed me as it beat fast enough to run out of my body. “Hello?” I whispered into the dark. No reply came but the noises stopped abruptly. Panic surged through my veins, and before I could move I was unable to speak. My hands gripping at my throat as I felt the warm liquid seep down my neck. It was thick and goopy making it hard to breath, my lungs felt like I was drowning. The soft chuckle making my heart thump faster as I fought for air. I stumbled around finding the stairs as I climbed them, begging to make it into the living room before I suffocated. Before I reached the top my vision became spotty. The light that filtered under the door warm as I collapsed taking my last blood filled breath as I succumbed to the warmth.