In The Basement

• Josephine Luobikis, Grade 9, Girrawheen Senior High School
• Short Story
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

George Franklin, a lonely caretaker, would watch from a distance every night however too afraid to see the true horrors in detail.
Making a terrible decision, he walked down the concrete steps into the dusty basement; trembling. The girl laid there as the dark lifeless figure sucked her soul.
Before he had the chance to change his mind, the figure leered over his shoulder, his ghostly form making Franklin shiver.
Flowing forward, he said, “Be gone or the girl dies.” Its voice was something of nightmares and its face even more so with the texture of grotesquely melted candle wax. Despite his terror, Franklin moved towards the child as she sat up. “I said be gone!” the terrifying voice yelled.
“Get out of here, sir,” the girl whispered, “Everything will be fine.”
Franklin stood before the figure, breathing heavily. “Take me,” he offered with just a slight tremble in his voice.
“Ah foolish man! You indeed do not know me, otherwise you would not have offered such a stupid idea.” He smiled, but his presence was still cold. “I take the power of imagination and you see, children have the most of this. I use it to give myself abilities only thought of by children. By doing this I shall become the most powerful being ever known!” the figure was peering over Franklin, his cold breath pouring upon him.
“Leave the girl alone! She means you no harm!” he shouted.
“Here’s what you also don’t understand -”
“Stop possessing this poor child!” Franklin interrupted, more forcefully than he felt.
The figure stood still. “Very well.”
Placing his hand on his own chest, the figure slowly removed a small beating heart. He walked over to the girl and knelt down, planting it inside her with ease. Franklin expected something to happen, but after several minutes nothing did.
The figure stood up firmly and floated towards the basement exit, “I hope you can live with your decision, fine sir,” the figure bowed and left the room, taking the cold environment with him.
Franklin felt at peace. His mind was relaxed and he was pleased with himself.
“Sir! How could you?” whimpered the girl’s weak voice, it echoing around the room. Franklin turned around abruptly, to see the girl sat on the other side of the room; bleeding and crying.
Franklin ran to the child, tears streaming in his eyes, however nothing could compare to how the girl looked. He held the girl in his arms, the blood dripping onto the floor, one drop after another. He could feel the heart beating like crazy; as if it was panicking.
She stopped; dead in Franklin’s arms.
The child, no longer full of imagination was dead. With her heart no longer surrounded by the imagination, that was now inside the figure, her body could no longer survive. Tear after tear fell from his eyes. Even though he not knew who she was, George Franklin had fallen apart with her.