I rent out my basement to a family that for all intents and purposes seems “normal”.
Or at least they did, until the day they moved in. And now, there are a lot of really creepy things going on. Don’t laugh. What I am about to tell you is all 100% true.
For example: every… single… night…
I arrive home with Noah, we walk in through the common entrance, and some strong smell always forces Noah’s little nose to start sniffing. As he’s inhaling, he always asks the same question, “what’s that weird smell, dad?” I attempt to breathe it in myself, but you’ll probably remember from this post that I don’t have the world’s best schnoz for things like that. I don’t know, buddy. Let’s just go inside, I say. Sometimes I do get whiffs of it though, and Noah is absolutely correct. Something funny is definitely going on down there.
Other times I’ll come home for lunch, and through the heater vent I’ll hear what sounds like the high-pitched wailing of a suffering animal. Whatever the sound is, it’s painful. And it’s scary.
Today I actually heard a strange woman’s voice yelling, yet simultaneously whispering the words, “hello? is anybody there?” She repeated it several times.
I sometimes hear children crying. I sometimes hear banging on the pipes. Sometimes I hear nothing at all, which to be honest, scares me more than anything.
It finally hit a point at which I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to find out. Was my basement being used as a torture chamber? Were people or animals being sacrificed under my own roof?
It didn’t take long to uncover the truth. And it turns out I was wrong. Thank goodness.
The strong smell that hit us every night was something they call a “home-cooked dinner”. I’m not really sure what that is, but I am assured that it has to do with food and is completely innocent.