You Should Have Seen the Basement by Art Paul Schlosser
It was a dark and scary night. The wind blew hard as my car was running out of gas, and looking around, it looked like there was no gas station in sight. I had gotten lost by accidentally turning down a road which I thought was a shortcut. But was this really an accident or fate? I looked at my phone and noticed the battery had died, so Triple A was not an option. I had no idea where I was or what I was going to do when the rain subsided, and the full moon shined on the house like a mansion not too far away. Well, thinking maybe there was a possibility that they had a phone, I thought: ‘What the heck? It’s not that far of a walk.” The house was gothic-looking and old like it might have been built by some German in the late 1800s. I was bored anyhow because my radio wasn’t working, and I was stuck there because my car had finally stalled from being out of gas. I felt fortunate that I had reached the porch just before the storm started up again with thunder and lightning and such harsh winds. There was no doorbell, just a demonic-looking door knocker that creaked when I tried to use it. I decided that the house looked abandoned, so maybe I would just try the door. But the door itself just opened before I even had a chance to touch the doorknob. In the hallway, there were candelabras on the walls, but it didn’t look like there was any electricity. I started to leave because I thought it might be a waste of time, but the storm was pouring hard, and the door seemed to be stuck. Just then, a very pale-looking guy with strangelooking teeth welcomed me and asked me if I would like a glass of white wine from 1871, which he said was a good year for the wine he was offering me. I asked about a phone or a nearby gas station, but I regretted that. Though he was happy to see me, he did not have a phone, and the nearest gas station was 25 or 30 miles away. With the -6-