A window to darkness

For the third night in a row, right on time, it woke me. That sound of the rattling and something impacting hard against something else. It wasn't regular, stopping and starting, so it couldn't be a machine. It was living. I rolled over and pulled the duvet up over my head. My left hand under my pillow, squeezing it against my ear. Still it got through, the percussive sound, reverberating inside my skull. I sat up, throwing off the duvet and fumbling around in the dark for the jeans I'd discarded by the bed the night before. I slipped them on and fought my way, blearily, into the t-shirt slung over the desk chair. I opened the door, being careful to release the catch as gently and silently as possible. I crept out on to the landing, swiping at my phone screen to turn on the torch and then began to descend, one stair at a time. At the front door, the light of the moon illuminated the hallway through the stained glass panel in the centre, casting unafmiliar, angular shadows. I felt my way along the wall and found the entrance to the basement. I felt my heart rate surge, my breathing getting shallower and forced myself to count to ten. Deep breaths. When I felt just a little calmer, I turned the old fashioned, iron key and opened the latch.

As soon as I opened the door it hit me. The smell of something rancid. Stale. Then the wealth of possibilities started flashing through my mind. Rats. Maybe even maltreated dogs. I put my foot on the first step, felt the slippery texture of some kind of dust beneath the thin sole of my slippers. I grasped the wall beside me, almost no light as I descended. Then I heard it. A voice.

"Hello?" it said. "There's a light. On the right, near the bottom of the stairs. He uses it when he feeds me."

I switched on the light and the brightness stung my eyes, who knows how it felt for him. Now I could see him, he was wearing a suit, but it was tatty, and hanging off him. He'd been here a while. I was just about to unfasten the catch when I saw his breifcase and documents strewn across the floor. He was a window salesman. I locked the door as I left.

@sandflea68