SPADE
The dark space loomed, and I always imagined him there with red eyes, waiting at the darkest corner, watching me as I walked down with my wobbled knees, trembling, sniffling, and twisting my arms with hot tears sliding down my face.
My heart thundered in my chest. The camera angled up to the pipes that ran across the open ceiling. They were more visible now than they were before. The broken furniture and malfunctioning dishwasher were stuck in the corner.
That smell sucked me into that basement— the musty air flooded my senses. Goose bumps scattered over my skin as I smelled the dust, the molds on the wall, the dead insects, and the rodent repellent. I could smell the stink of pee on the cemented floor with mildew cracks snaking across it.
Murmurs of noises and the creaky step
