July 24th

Why I was hesitant to speak with the newbies, I'll never know. They're super nice, and the most normal people Erin and I have met in months.

The man's name is Michael, and he's a psychologist. His wife's name is Louise (they're not boyfriend and girlfriend, as I assumed), and she's a teacher. They said they're both twenty-seven-years old. My sister laughed, touching Michael's arm and saying she would have guessed he was nineteen. Louise gave Erin a weird look, and Michael shifted away from Erin's hand.

I could tell they were older than nineteen. Don't know what Erin meant, but I like the newbies. Being around them makes me feel happier, safer. In a way, they remind me of a younger version of Mom and Dad.

Me and Erin keeping to ourselves was a mistake. I think if we kept on that way, we would have gone insane. Sticking together with others better.

When our parents were still alive, they kept to themselves. They made sure Erin and I didn't talk to anyone down here. It didn't stop Him from dragging Dad into the kill room for torture sessions. Every time he came out, he seemed less and less sane. We could tell he was about to break.

The Man made Dad do terrible things, some I can't name, and some I can. One thing I can say is...He forced my father to eat his own filth in front of mom and Erin. They told me about it later, even though they were crying so hard they could barely get out what they were trying to say. I never went in the room with them, and I never had to see anything He did to them. Not until the last day of my father's life.

Dad, mom, and Erin were taken into the kill room together, like always. Nothing seemed normal (as if anything seemed normal back then, or now), and I was curious. I peeked through the crack in the door and saw....Him.

He was on top of Erin, heaving up and down. He urged Dad to have a go at my mother, who was bent over the bed, stoney-faced and naked. While I wondered what having a go meant, Dad cowered in a corner, hands over his eyes. Finally, The Man tried to force Dad to get on top of Erin. It seemed to me He wanted him to heave on her, the same way He had. Dad refused. Angrier than I've ever seen him, my father struck Him, over and over again. I think he was trying to beat Him to death. The Man took his chance and ducked out of the next punch. The move put Dad on his behind, and He put him in a choke-hold till he passed out. When Dad came to, he was tied to a chair.

With plenty of tools at his disposal, He tortured my father to death. Saw, thumb tacks, blow torch, He has 'em all. The Man has a collection of medieval tools, and those came out first. One of them he called a brank, a wicked looking spike. Erin held mom back while he branked dad, but she couldn't hold her off for long. Mom slapped Erin full-on, forcing her to let go. Mom charged at The Man, and she got one good punch on His arm before He scraped her head with the brank. The tool grazed her face, dragging sharp daggers into her cheek. It left a deep wound, which never healed right, and which contributed to the decline in her food intake later. The only good thing to come out of her attack on Him was her disfigured face; she disgusted Him, and He never touched her again.

Mom's branked face held me back from playing the role of hero. She was bigger, stronger, and braver than me, and if her attempts left her cheek hanging like torn sheets in the wind, what chance did I have against Him?

The Man's anger made him impatient to finish with Dad, when usually He spun the hurt out for hours. He brought back the classics, saw, thumb tacks, blow torch, and my father's death came quickly, though definitely not painlessly. Whenever I see The Man with the same tools in his hand, I have to turn away because all I can think about is how he used them on my father. Saw, thumb tacks, blow torch.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.

Do you understand?

I wanted to look away.

* * * *

July 27th

Michael and Louise informed Erin and me about the world Outside.

In the five months we've been trapped down here, crime escalated. Escalated. It was already bad by the time He brought us down here months ago. Disappearances and murders have become things to shrug about.

Michael described a mugging he and his wife witnessed from their apartment. Since they lived in the city, muggings weren't a rare occurrence for them, but they merely heard about muggings, never seeing one first-hand. When Michael saw two men beat a woman for the money in her purse, he wanted to run downstairs and help before she got hurt. He stopped when Louise cautioned him to stay inside. She pointed to the window.

The muggers repeatedly stabbed the woman, while another woman got dragged into an alley. The two incidents were unthinkable, but then another person ran past that craziness, blood all over their face.

"What did you do?" Gabriella had been listening in on the story.

The guy she came here with, Marc, looked at her like she was crazy for chiming in, but she didn't care. Michael's story was more interesting than all the television we weren't allowed to watch.

"Nothing. I stayed inside."

Marc scoffed.

"If I had gone downstairs--," Michael continued.

"You would have died," Erin finished the sentence for him.

She was as caught up in his story as Gabriella. Michael nodded at her.

"Yes, I would have died."

"Then there would have been no one to protect your woman," Marc said.

Gabriella glared at him.

"I would've missed Michael, but I would've had myself to protect me," Louise said.

It was the one thing she contributed.

****

A/N: According to the newbies, the world Outside is nearly as scary as the basement. Would've thought?

Now, I've mentioned him before, but he's worth mentioning again...Ninja_Socks is new to Wattpad. Follow him for a smorgasbord of speculative stories, especially his newest untitled work in progress: 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/60888708-working-title