Until they think warm days will never cease,

For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

-To Autumn, John Keats, 1820.

After twenty minutes, those creaks and thumps were still the scariest thing that happened.

We heard occasional soft moans or murmurs, but that could be just us, so we didn't really put our mind to it. In no time, the stay was getting boring.

Seeing how bored we became, we finally found the courage to explore the other rooms. There was one room filled with antique statues and old paintings and several musical instruments, and we had a short argument about whether we should call it the 'art room' or the 'gallery'. We finally agreed on the former. Then another room was empty except for a closet with a dusty looking-glass on it. The mirror was giving me the creeps, and apparently I wasn't the only one, so we left to see the other rooms.

Every once in a while, we'd gather back to the dining room - just because it's where we could sit down around a table and face each other with the light put on the center. It had become some sort of our headquarters. When we got bored again, we'd explore - and, obeying to the first lesson from horror movies, we stuck together and made sure that there were only eight of us. Not less, and definitely not more.

Brody suggested that we should try upstairs, but I remembered what Graham said - one of the stairs was broken, and there was no telling if the other stairs would suffer the same fate on our account, so we decided to save that for later.

But that would leave only one other room unexplored: the basement.

After half an hour, we got bored again, and Cody and Brody were talking about the basement.

"Come on, no one's ever dared going there, right?" Cody said. Brody nodded.

"But you don't get it," Brody said. "That feeling when you get close to it...it's not just scary. It's evil. Something vengeful must be hiding there. Something vengeful and powerful."

In regard to the urban legend about this house, it made sense. The witch kept her slaves in there, doing God-knows-what that made them scream every night. Then the townspeople didn't free them as well - they were too revolted by what they saw they sealed the basement again at once. They never bothered rechecking them or anything.

So if they died there, and they did become spectral beings there, of course they'd be mad.

"Just try? I'd better be lurking than getting bored like this."

Brody looked around and gave a short nod. "You're right. It's unusually quiet. My first time was a midnight shift as well. Those creaks and thumps we heard were nothing compared to what I had."

"So what's wrong? Are they bored of scaring us, too?"

Brody fell silent. "I have no idea. But it's lucky on our part. At least you wouldn't be traumatized as badly as I was."

"You got committed?" Cora asked. Brody nodded.

"Two weeks. Luckily my psychiatrist was also a midnight-shifter. He knew exactly what I went through." He smiled bitterly. "Heck, that's even why he chose to major in psychology."

"So - about that basement thing?" Cody said. "Come on. Or - rather - what about this: we make a random pick. Whoever gets picked will go to the basement, and we'll be watching."

"Are you mad?" Brody said. "Even together like this, it can still be dangerous."

"Dangerous why?"

"You really wanna know?" Brody asked, his tone rising. "You really want to know?"

Brody took the lantern and walked across. Being the only source of light around, we all followed him. He led us towards the door that led to the basement.

At first there was a stench.

There was no mistaking it - it smelled like rotten meat, covered by inches of mold and dust for centuries. We immediately wrinkled or covered our noses.

"What the heck is this?" Eileen said.

"They left the basement just like that, remember?" Brody said. "Must be the dead bodies still lingering there."

Even if the place wasn't haunted, this foul smell should be enough to drive everyone away. Still, Brody took us even closer towards the door.

That's when we felt something else.

Have you ever spoken to someone so tall, it seemed like he was looming over you and you have to constantly look up and feel small when you talk to them? It felt like that.

Something was looming over us.

Something was definitely looming over us.

But we couldn't even see a thing except for the basement door, thanks to Brody's lantern.

Whatever that presence was, it was moving. Slightly wavering, steering over here and there. Like someone waiting at the platform - softly shifting weight from side to side.

It was feeling us. I didn't know how I knew that, but I could tell that it was now among us all - covering us each with a blanket of -

Hee.

Eileen and Zoey screamed on top of their lungs, followed by Cody and Mark's loud screams themselves. Brody rushed over, following the others running, until we all reached the dining room again.

I didn't realize I was screaming until my throat got sore.

We all panted, trying to manage our breaths, but we still looked over to the dining room's door every once in a while, fearing that whatever was around that basement was following us running.

The presence was scary, but it wasn't that scary that we'd all scream and run.

No, the presence was fine.

But what wasn't so fine was when you can clearly hear someone whispering, "Hee."

//

We didn't dare to leave the dining room after that. The shock lingered for another twenty minutes, and we were finally in the last ten minutes of our shift.

"Ten minutes, and we're out of here," Brody announced. We all cheered with small yays.

"Finally," Eileen said. I could almost be sure that she was crying happy tears.

Creak.

At first we thought it was the plywood floor again, so we went silent and turned around.

Creak.

No. It wasn't the plywood floor.

We all looked around, trying to determine the source of the -

Creeeeak.

That one last creak lasted longer than the others, and the loudness shifted.

We immediately recognized that creak.

A door swinging.

But all the doors in this floor were closed -

With realization etched on his face, Brody took his lantern to look outside the dining room, and we followed him. He then gazed to the inner wall of the house.

Our hearts froze.

The basement door was open.

"But - but -" Zoey started. "Isn't it - like, supposed to be sealed?"

Nobody answered her.

I could feel a strange tingling on my spine. For a moment, it overlapped with the chill that ran down my back - yes, I was scared out of my pants; that door was supposed to be sealed - but then I realized it was something else entirely. The only reason I even noticed it was because it grew so uncomfortable there.

Then the tingling spread to my fingertips, and to my toes.

Then a voice rang in the room: "Free us!"

The voice wasn't just filling the room. It was filling the whole house and our skulls at once, as if the speaker had so many mouths to speak with. Then the dining table began to shake violently, like trying to shove the candle holder off of it. As if it wasn't enough, everything else in the room began to fly and whirl.

Our screams were muffled by the sound of our blood rushing in our ears - or maybe we were too busy dodging things flying about everywhere in the room. An empty jar almost hit my head spot-on if I didn't duck in time.

Then the whole house shook.

It couldn't have been an earthquake - you would know if it was an earthquake. It was definitely not an earthquake.

An earthquake couldn't be evil.

Whatever was causing the quake didn't like us.

"Go!"

"Free us!"

"Hee!"

All sorts of things were yelled into our heads, and it was so loud we couldn't even hear our screams. There were wails of pain, there were screams of agony, and there was even a diabolical laughter rolling in the background.

I couldn't see clearly anymore - Zoey and Cora were holding each other, their backs outwards; Brody was backed towards a wall, looking forward in horror - what he was seeing, I'd never know; Mark was holding his head and covering both his ears, maybe screaming as well, I couldn't hear him; Eileen was hiding behind Rhodes, who was desperately trying to hide behind anything; and Cody was nowhere in sight.

The tingling on my spine got stronger. I'd been more alert than ever since the first hee in front of the basement door, but there's something else now. I couldn't describe it, but I'd know if something -

I ducked and a broken ceramic plate swooshed past me.

I stood up again.

There was a face in front of me.

Driven by reflex, I took a step back. The face looked dark and unsettling. It was almost manlike - if it weren't for its crimson red eyes and apparent lack of mouth.

A stench of iron began to fill the air.

Brody's lantern was flying around with the other objects in this poltergeist frenzy, so I could look around. To my horror, the walls were beginning to take shades of dark red.

Blood.

Someone's spattering blood all over the walls.

I would've screamed if I could, but my voice rebelled and found themselves stuck in my throat, making a painful lump there.

The dark figure walked over closer.

"Give...me..."

Two thick tendrils appeared from the sides and reached over to me, and I could guess that they were its hands.

Again, I failed to scream.

As if spattering blood on the walls wasn't enough, more dark figures began appearing around me.

They all looked at me.

"Give..."

"Free us..."

The tingling on my spine began to feel unbearably uncomfortable. It felt like all the shivers my body could stand over my lifetime were thrown together into the mix at once.

Then they spread to my fingertips.

More and more dark figures appeared as the poltergeist grew even wilder. I couldn't see because my sight was blocked by the shadowy figures, but if I heard correctly, I could almost be sure that something hit Eileen hard.

"Give..."

"...us..."

"...now!"

The lump on my throat was begging to be released.

The tingling on my spine grew to become warmth.

I could finally scream.

"Imígí!"

I didn't know where that came from, but something behind my back forced me to scream that word. With that alien scream, I pressed out all the air in my lungs. Out of nowhere, memories began flashing in my mind: one of the dark figures was a young woman, a slave. I could see her tied to a bed, the witch of this house standing over her, many items of mystery in her hand, smiling warmly.

Her touch wasn't warm at all.

I could feel the agony the young woman had to live through as the witch began poking holes in her skin, or enchanting words I couldn't pronounce.

Then, when I thought it was all over, I could see the door behind me - her - opening.

There were townspeople there.

For a moment, I felt hope. Someone was going to save me from this misery.

But then the doors closed again.

It was all happening too fast to be real, but I could feel hundreds of years of hatred and grudge as the woman grew hungry, then starving, and then finally exhaling her last breath.

The hatred never left.

Then I could see myself - shining bright white, as if I was sort of a living neon lamp.

As the memories finished flashing, I could see that one of the dark figures dispersed, a contented feeling of freedom was left behind in its trail.

More memories began flooding me all at once - now I couldn't see the memories one by one. They all flashed by my eyes right away, begging to be seen and understood.

They were all enslaved.

They were all tortured.

They were all agonized.

They were all betrayed.

I screamed.