Part 2 of 4
Spinner
A woman trapped in an abusive relationship during lockdown investigates a malevolent supernatural force in her basement.
Continued from Part One.
Isabel hid the mysterious message at the back of the kitchen cutlery drawer. After spending much of the afternoon focussed on her work, because it was their anniversary, she stopped at around 4:30 pm. She showered, got changed into a little black dress, put on make-up, and scuttled around preparing a romantic dinner. Smoked salmon starters. Medium rare steaks. Lemon meringue pie. Following the candlelit dinner, they’d enjoy a movie on the couch together, and afterwards, there would be passionate lovemaking.
Tyler remained upstairs until 6:30 pm when he finally emerged from his study. Unfortunately, he was in a bad temper.
‘Profits are down,’ he muttered, as he tucked into the smoked salmon. ‘There really is no excuse for it. If this bloody quarantine is going to continue as long as everyone says, then people need to make extra effort. No shirking.’
‘Of course,’ said Isabel, with private misgivings. She thought it understandable that Tyler’s employees’ first priority at present wouldn’t be making him more profits. Their financial situation was very good, and they didn’t have any real worries on that score. Perhaps this time would be good for him in the end, helping him to better appreciate what was important in life. Perhaps she could be instrumental in that change.
‘How’s the smoked salmon?’
‘Oh… Very nice, thank you,’ said Tyler. ‘Sorry, I’m not being very grateful, am I? You’ve made a real effort for our anniversary.’
‘I know work is stressful, and I understand.’
Tyler nodded. ‘It really is. Here, let me pour you some wine…’
For the next half hour, Tyler spoke at length about problems in his business. Isabel nodded and expressed sympathy at what she judged to be the right moments, hoping that by letting her boyfriend speak at length, that he’d eventually end up in a better humour.
Tyler’s discourse continued into the main course, and halfway through the steaks, Isabel began to feel a stabbing pain in her side. She put her fork down and took a sip of red wine, hoping to alleviate the pain. Tyler caught her eye as she winced, and broke off his work rant.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Just a slight pain in the stomach.’
He frowned. ‘Nothing serious I hope?’
‘Oh no. Nothing serious.’
Isabel smiled and continued to eat. Tyler resumed his conversation about work, but as he did, Isabel’s pain grew. The cramps in her stomach increased, and eventually, she could no longer hide her agony.
‘Tyler, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘My stomach… It’s really hurting.’
Tyler seemed irritated. ‘Why is it hurting?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure…’
‘Have you eaten anything you shouldn’t?’
‘No.’
‘What about that toast this morning?’
Immediate guilt struck Isabel. ‘Oh shit… You’re right. I ate a second slice of toast.’
‘No, I stopped you before you did.’
‘Yeah… But afterwards, I ate it, once you left the room.’
From experience, Isabel knew Tyler would get the truth out of her sooner or later, so it was best to confess to the worst immediately and deal with the inevitable consequences.
‘Well that was stupid and selfish,’ Tyler muttered.
‘Tyler, I’m sorry… I’m really sorry…’
‘Tonight was supposed to be our anniversary. I thought that was important to you.’
‘It is.’
‘And you ate that second piece of toast, knowing it could set off your stomach?’
‘I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me…’
‘Well, quite the passion killer. Nice one Isabel.’
‘Tyler, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.’
Tyler scoffed and continued eating his steak. Isabel sat opposite in silence, feeling gloomy. If only she hadn’t been so selfish. If only she listened to Tyler about her food. He knew what was best, and she had defied him. She deserved to feel this pain.
‘I suppose that’s sex out of the window for tonight then?’
‘No, no… Not necessarily. I can still do it. I can… just ignore the pain.’
Tyler stared at her for a moment and shook his head. ‘I’ll think about it. I’m not sure you deserve my affections tonight, to be honest. You’ve been selfish.’
‘Yes, yes I have. You’re right.’
Tears formed in Isabel’s eyes. Tyler sat opposite her for a moment, watching. Then, after about a minute, he moved around to her. Isabel put her arms around her boyfriend, feeling relieved. This was the part she always longed for. The part where he forgave her.
‘There, there…’ he whispered. ‘It’s all right. You’re forgiven. We can still have a fun evening together, OK?’
‘Yes,’ Isabel whispered. ‘I’d like that.’
They skipped dessert, watched a film together, and made love exactly as Isabel had hoped. Despite being in pain throughout the entire experience, she was glad, as Tyler seemed to glean great satisfaction from the act. They cuddled up together, and Tyler fell asleep. Isabel felt contented, even though her stomach cramps kept her awake for another couple of hours. But this was her penance for ignoring her boyfriend and eating that extra toast. She vowed to strictly limit her bread intake in future, exactly as she ought.
After eventually falling asleep for a couple of hours, Isabel awoke with a start. She didn’t know what had roused her but had the feeling that an unexpected noise had been responsible. She felt disturbed, and her heart was beating faster than usual. What had unsettled her?
Glancing around the dark bedroom, Isabel checked to see if anything had fallen from the chest of drawers or bedside tables. Everything appeared to be still in place, as far as she could tell amid the minuscule amount of light creeping in from behind the curtains.
Needing the bathroom, Isabel got up, put on her dressing-gown, and peered out of the window. The road was silent, but the streetlights seemed dimmer than usual, casting a pale, ethereal glow. Isabel shook her head. Perhaps this was simply her imagination.
Creeping out of the bedroom and onto the landing, Isabel did her best to avoid creaking floorboards. Because she hadn’t lived in this house long, she hadn’t yet fully ascertained where the dodgy floor areas were, to avoid stepping on them. Groans emanated from beneath her feet where wood objected to being stepped on, and Isabel froze every time it happened, not wanting to awaken Tyler.
After using the bathroom, whilst Isabel washed her hands, she caught a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye in the mirror. A shadow moving behind her. She spun around but saw nothing but towels on the radiator. Her heart began to beat faster, and she felt the same icy chill she had experienced earlier in the basement.
Isabel turned back to the mirror. The usual green eyes stared back from beneath the tangle of long dark hair. Had it been her imagination?
A muffled thump made Isabel jump. It sounded as though it came from downstairs.
Knowing she’d be unable to sleep unless she investigated, Isabel slowly turned from the mirror and left the bathroom. She paused for a minute on the landing, listening intently in case further sounds could be heard.
Nothing.
Perhaps she had imagined it, like the shadowy movement in the corner of her eye. But the chilly tingle on the back of her neck suggested otherwise. Very slowly, Isabel crept down the staircase. Beneath the carpet, the stairs gave an occasional creak, but not as loudly as the floorboards from the landing. As she reached the foot of the stairs near the front door, Isabel glimpsed her reflection in the large mirror that hung in the hall, but this time no shadowy movements caught her attention.
Another muffled thud pierced the silence. Isabel’s heart beat faster. The disturbance seemed to be coming from the basement. Remembering the ominous note she had found, Isabel crept along the hallway corridor and into the kitchen. The linoleum flooring felt colder than usual, and goosebumps prickled her skin.
Curiosity about the strange envelope and its contents returned to Isabel’s mind, so she opened the cutlery draw and retrieved it. Placing the envelope in her dressing gown pocket, she turned right along the corridor that led out of the kitchen. A door to her left led into the garden, ahead, the corridor took her to the garage, but on her right was the door to the basement. She opened the door slowly, and it swung inward, creaking in the darkness.
For several seconds, Isabel stared down the basement staircase, into the gaping black maw. The thumping sound had almost certainly come from here, but she began to feel afraid. Maud Spinner couldn’t be haunting the house if she wasn’t dead, so whatever was in the basement couldn’t be her restless spirit. Was it some other ghost? Some other presence that had haunted the place even whilst Maud lived here?
Inwardly telling herself there were no such things as ghosts, Isabel turned on the light and stole down the stairs into the basement. Every wooden step felt colder on her feet, and her skin felt acutely aware of the potential for splinters amid the unpolished wood. Nonetheless, she continued downward, descending into the gloom, trying not to be bothered by the flickering lightbulb.
Once she reached the foot of the stairs, Isabel felt rather foolish. It was cold in the basement, and there really was nothing to see. The same unpacked boxes. The same concrete walls. The same cobwebs. However, after a few seconds, her eye was drawn to the pile of newspapers where she had discovered the strange letter. A thought occurred to Isabel. What if there were further envelopes or clues to be discovered from the old newspapers?
She crouched down and began sorting through the dusty pile. Most were old local newspapers, in some cases dating back decades. Also in the pile were a few old TV listings magazines, and one or two celebrity gossip magazines. One particularly sensational headline caught Isabel’s attention.
BREAKING FREE FROM POISONOUS RELATIONSHIPS
Isabel glanced at the date on the magazine. It was two decades old. These days, the word poisonous would probably be replaced with toxic, she thought to herself. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Her ex-best friend Louise had the temerity to tell her Tyler was toxic. Such an unfair judgement, as she had known next to nothing about him.
At Tyler’s advice, Isabel had severed all contact with Louise, and he had been quite right. Since that time, Isabel had come to realise how much other people had used and abused her. Tyler had opened her eyes to this fact. These days, he helpfully advised her on how and when to interact with everyone, from her parents to relatives and the friends he judged to not be a destructive influence. It had really simplified her life, making it much easier to navigate.
Isabel glanced through the article, but it didn’t really offer any insight into why it might have been left in the basement, much less what it might conceivably have to do with the note left in the envelope.
A loud thump shattered the silence.
Isabel jumped, dropped the magazine, and stared straight ahead. There could be no doubt where the sound came from. Something had pounded the wall of the basement. What was happening?
Forcing herself to remain calm, Isabel tried to come up with plausible explanations for the noise. Perhaps it was the plumbing. Or perhaps next door had a basement. Maybe the neighbours were reorganising, and had shoved something against their basement wall.
At 3 am.
Peering at the wall, Isabel moved closer. Escalating dread built within her at every reluctant step, but nonetheless she felt compelled to continue. Eventually, she stood directly against the wall, awaiting the next thump.
For several seconds she heard nothing. Then amid the silence, a scratching, clawing sound, like fingernails grinding again earth and stone, could be heard from the other side of the wall. Although muffled it was clearly audible. Trying not to panic, Isabel told herself a rat or some other creature had buried itself in the wall. But no matter how much she attempted to calm herself, an image of hands — pale, thin hands, clawing desperately, trying to escape imprisonment — filled her mind.
This picture became increasingly vivid, to the point that she could stand it no longer. Isabel moved away from the wall, walking backwards beneath the flickering basement light. Placing her hand in her dressing gown pocket, her fingers closed around the envelope within. On a whim she withdrew it and glanced again at the paper that had previously read A dream will reveal the truth to whoever opens this envelope.
To Isabel’s astonishment, new writing had appeared on the paper.
The truth is imprisoned in the wall. After all, he did, he deserved this punishment.
But do not stay. He will escape in the end.
When he escapes, you will die.
Isabel read and re-read the note, incredulous at how the writing had manifested itself. Who or what was buried in the basement wall, and why had Maud Spinner — if indeed the previous occupant had written this — left such a warning? Was Isabel really in danger from some kind of imprisoned, malevolent supernatural entity?
Her mind burning with questions, Isabel began to feel dizzy. She staggered backwards, the note still in her hand. Darkness filled her vision, and she felt herself collapse.
Isabel awoke in bed with a start. Morning sunlight bled into the bedroom from behind the curtains. Tyler remained asleep next to her, still snoring. Isabel glanced at the alarm clock. 6:50 am.
Memories of her nocturnal excursion to the basement returned with a flood, and Isabel remembered what the mysterious note had originally said.
A dream will reveal the truth to whoever opens this envelope.
Had it all been a dream? It seemed the most plausible explanation. After all, she’d experienced a strange presence in the house, heard banging from the basement, then that horrible scratching and clawing from behind the wall. On top of all that, the letter in the envelope had revealed new writing, exactly as it had promised.
The truth is imprisoned in the wall. After all, he did, he deserved this punishment.
But do not stay. He will escape in the end.
When he escapes, you will die.
It had to have been a dream. Apart from anything else, she had become dizzy and blacked out. She ought to still be lying on the basement floor. Had Tyler perhaps found her there and carried her back up to bed? Isabel felt her head, but there were no signs of bumps or bruises, which she would have expected, had she really collapsed in the basement unconscious.
And yet, it had felt so utterly real. Trembling and confused, Isabel got up from the bed, knowing there was only one way to be sure whether she had dreamed her trip to the basement. She went to the doorway where her dressing gown had been hung up. She reached into her pocket and found, to her amazement, the same envelope and paper that had last night manifested new writing.
A shiver shot through Isabel’s entire frame as she unfolded the letter. The same text remained inscribed on the paper. The text that had materialised the previous night. A message, warning that something had been buried in the walls of the basement; something that would kill her if they remained in the house.
Her heart racing, Isabel considered what to do. If the entire incident had been a dream, then why had the letter appeared in her dressing gown pocket with new writing on it? If it had been real, why had the previous message claimed the truth would be revealed in a dream? More importantly, whether in a dream or in reality, how could a supernatural force within the house be trying to warn her to leave, and why?
Isabel examined the handwriting. It certainly wasn’t Tyler’s, so he couldn’t be undertaking some kind of elaborate practical joke. Who else could have done this? Had a neighbour somehow snuck in?
Looking back to her still sleeping boyfriend, Isabel wondered if Tyler had found her in the basement and brought her back upstairs. She had no memory of this incident if that were the case. But perhaps he would be angry when he woke up and would question her about what on earth she had been doing. Nervousness gripped Isabel’s stomach, and she decided to go downstairs to make a cup of tea. Hopefully, a hot drink first thing would blunt any anger from Tyler, had he been involved in restoring her to bed — again, assuming the whole incident hadn’t been a dream.
Isabel went downstairs to the kitchen and prepared the tea. She tried to think of other things — of her working day ahead, of news on the television about the virus, and of when the quarantine regulations might end. But her mind kept bringing her back to the note and the warning it contained.
When he escapes, you will die.
When who escapes?
Author’s Note: Check out my other short stories on Medium here.
