Chapter 6 - The Floor Beneath the Cabinets
I moved the kitchen table aside and knelt beside Rick.
The floor looked ordinary.
Old tile.
Faded grout.
No visible door.
No handle.
But the knocking continued beneath us.
Three knocks.
A pause.
Then three more.
I pressed my ear to the tile.
Something scraped below.
Then a voice spoke.
Muffled.
Barely understandable.
"Help me."
I jumped back.
Rick began clawing at the narrow space beneath the lower cabinets.
One kick loosened a wooden base panel.
Behind it was a rusted metal ring.
I pulled.
A section of flooring lifted upward.
Cold air rushed into the kitchen.
Beneath the tiles was a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
The steps were concrete and much older than the rest of the house.
A smell drifted upward.
Mold.
Oil.
Burned wires.
The brass key in my hand suddenly made sense.
There was a basement.
Someone had hidden the entrance during renovation.
I called the police before going any farther.
The dispatcher told me officers were on the way and warned me to leave the house.
I should have listened.
Then the voice came again.
"Please."
It sounded like a woman.
Rick placed one paw on the first step and looked back at me.
His body trembled, but he refused to retreat.
I grabbed a kitchen knife, the flashlight, and my phone.
Then we descended.
The staircase ended in a low concrete corridor.
Electrical cables covered the ceiling.
Dozens of them.
All leading toward a steel door.
The same words from the tag had been scratched into the metal.
BASEMENT ROOM.
The brass key turned easily.
The door opened inward.
Beyond it was a room filled with monitors.
Some were ancient.
Others looked new.
Every screen showed a different part of my home.
Bedroom.
Bathroom.
Living room.
Kitchen.
Attic.
Even the front yard.
Several screens displayed recordings from years earlier.
Different families.
Different furniture.
The same hidden camera angles.
One monitor showed the kitchen from above.
On the recording, I stood beside the hidden staircase.
Rick was next to me.
The timestamp read tomorrow's date.
I stared at it, unable to breathe.
The video continued.
A figure emerged from the passage behind us.
Tall.
Thin.
Wearing a gray mask.
I turned toward the corridor.
Nothing was there.
Then the steel door slammed shut.
The lights went out.
A speaker crackled somewhere in the darkness.
A calm male voice said:
May you like
"You were not supposed to bring the dog."
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