When I first moved into Alex’s house, everything seemed perfect.
The house itself was charming-an old Victorian building with creaking floors and tall windows that filled every room with golden light.
It felt like the beginning of a fairy tale, especially because Alex, my perfect man, was right beside me.
And then there was also Rufus, Alex’s huge German Shepherd.
Rufus was sweet most of the time, following me like a shadow and settling at my feet while I worked.
I thought we hit it off immediately.
Until I tried to approach the basement door.
The first time that happened, I was just unpacking a box in the hallway.
The basement door was ajar, and I thought I might put a couple of old books in there.
But just as I approached, Rufus crashed into me and bellowed a low growl.
His teeth were bared and his ears pinned in a way I’d never seen before.
‘Oh, Rufus,’ I said, taking a step back.
‘What happened?’
He didn’t budge until I took a few steps back.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he wagged his tail and walked on as if nothing had happened.
I wrote it off as an accident, but it happened again – and again.
Every time I tried to approach the basement, Rufus became a completely different dog.
He growled, barked, and even pushed me with his massive body.
When I told Alex about this, he laughed.
‘Ah, Rufus doesn’t like the basement,’ he said nonchalantly.
‘He’s always been that way.
It must smell like something weird down there.’
‘But what’s down there?’ – I asked.
‘Nothing much,’ Alex replied.
‘A couple of old things for storage.
I haven’t been down there in years.’
That struck me as odd.
Who lives in a house and never goes down into their own basement?
But Alex had always been quiet and a little absent-minded about little things like that.
I told myself it wasn’t that big of a problem.
Still, Rufus’s behaviour kept me on my toes.
Dogs are intuitive, aren’t they?
Maybe there really is something strange in the basement.
Mould? Rats? A gas leak?
I decided to check it out while Alex was at work.
The next morning, I waited for Alex to come out to the office and grabbed the spare key to the basement.
As soon as Rufus saw me heading for the door, he immediately started whining.
He blocked my path again, barking and scratching at my legs.
I didn’t want to make him angry, but my curiosity had become a real obsession.
I needed to find out what was down there.
‘Rufus, get out of here,’ I said firmly.
He didn’t move. I retrieved a treat from the kitchen and tossed it into the living room.
While Rufus rushed after it, I quickly opened the door and pushed it open.
The creak of the door hinges sent shivers down my spine.
The basement smelled musty, damp wood and stale air.
A single bulb illuminated the top of the stairs, casting long shadows that disappeared into the darkness below.
I slowed my step, but then I heard Rufus bark again behind me.
He was panicked, his paws clawing at the floor as if he was trying to stop me.
‘Stay there, boy,’ I shouted, my voice shaking.
I slowly made my way down the stairs, each step creaking under my weight.
The air grew colder with each step down.
Once down, I found myself in a large, unfinished basement with a concrete floor and shelves along the walls.
Most of the shelves were occupied by dusty boxes, old tools, and paint cans.
At first glance it seemed quite ordinary.
But then I heard a faint, rhythmic sound-something tapping.
My heart beat faster as I followed the sound to the far corner of the basement.
There I found an old wooden cabinet with a rusty lock.
The knocking was coming from inside.
I froze.
My rational mind told me it was probably a mouse or other small animal stuck in the wardrobe.
But another part of me – the part that was shaking with fear – was telling me to turn around and walk away.
Instead, I reached for the wardrobe.
My hands shook as I picked the rusty lock and opened the door.
Inside was a small, battered box.
It looked like an old jewellery box you’d find in an antique shop.
The knocking stopped and there was an ominous silence.
I hesitated whether to open it, half expecting something to jump out.
The box wasn’t locked, so I lifted the lid.
Inside was a collection of strange objects: a yellowed photograph of a young woman, a blackened locket, and a folded piece of paper.
The picture sent shivers down my spine.
The woman in it had an ominously familiar face-almost like mine, only older.
With trembling fingers, I unfolded the paper.
It was a letter written in disappearing ink.
‘Alex,
You promised to protect her.
You swore to keep her safe.
If you’re reading this, then you’ve already failed.
I hope you can live with the consequences.
-Л’
I stared at the note, my mind flying.
Who was the woman in the picture?
Who was ‘L?’
And why did I feel like this message was addressed to me?
Before I could continue pondering, Rufus’ barking got louder.
He was already at the top of the stairs, howling like he’d never done before.
The sound sent shivers down my spine.
Suddenly, the light bulb above me flickered and went out, engulfing the basement in darkness.
Panic gripped me.
I grabbed the box and ran up the stairs, nearly tripping in my excitement.
Rufus was waiting for me upstairs, his body pressed against the door as if he wanted to protect me from what was down there.
I slammed the door shut and locked it, my chest rising and falling heavily.
Rufus immediately relaxed, his tail wagging as he pushed against my leg.
It was as if he was trying to reassure me, telling me I had done the right thing.
When Alex got home that evening, I questioned him.
‘Alex, what’s in the basement?’ I demanded, holding up the box.
His face went pale.
‘You were there?’ he asked, his voice strained.
‘Yes. And I found this. Who is she, Alex?
Who is the woman in the photo?’
He was silent for a while.
Then he sighed and sat down, burying his face in his hands.
‘She was my ex-fiancée,’ he finally said.
‘Her name was Laura.
She…she died in this house.
She fell down the basement stairs.
It was an accident, but her family blamed me.
They said I was careless.
I’ve tried to move on, but sometimes…I think she’s still here.’
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
A rhythmic pounding. An ominous silence.
The way Rufus had tried to hold me.
It all made sense now.
‘You should have told me,’ I said quietly.
‘I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he said, his voice shaking.
‘I thought if I ignored it, it would go away.’
But it didn’t disappear. And now I knew the truth.
From that day on, I avoided the basement.
Rufus seemed calmer after the incident, like he knew I understood everything.
But sometimes, late at night, I can still hear the quiet knocking from downstairs.
And I wonder if Laura is still waiting – for justice, for closure, or maybe just to be remembered.
