Page 100 of Deliver us from Evil

Something bumps my foot.

If I hadn’t clapped my hands over my mouth, I would have screamed. In fact, I do still scream, but the sound is muffled.

I jump back, my heart clanging in my chest almost as loud as that dog bowl.

What the hell was that?

I wait for something to happen. A sound that indicates movement, perhaps. More rat claws maybe.

But there’s nothing.

So I crouch down and grope in the dark until I touch the edge of the mattress.

My fingers brush the surface as I move them reluctantly forward.

I’m almost sure I can make out the incredibly vague, pale outline of the mattress. But if so, then there must be a big stain in the center, because that area is dark.

God, I wish there was more light down here.

I swipe my fingers left to right over the mattress, with no idea where I’d felt the thing on my foot.

But there’s nothing there.

Probably because I chased it away.

And I have no idea if I’m relieved or grossed out by the thought that I touched a live rat with my foot.

I’m just about to stand when my fingers snag something.

I freeze.

It takes me a few seconds to figure out what I’m touching.

Hair.

I leap back.

My scream echoes back to me, but I couldn’t give a fuck if everyone above me heard. I scramble away, tripping on the edge of another mattress and falling hard on my ass. Then I’m on hands and knees, crawling. I hit another dog bowl but this one’s dry and doesn’t splash me.

I’m half-sobbing, half-choking by the time I get close to the other side of the basement—arms outstretched as I search out the wall I know is getting closer.

But instead of hitting the wall, something slams into my stomach. I fold in half, gasping in pain, sobbing with shock, and grab for something to hold onto.

I ran into a bar of steel.

A railing.

Stairs.

I’m up them a second later. Now my sobs are tearing me apart. Bile vaults up my throat, but I choke it down with a ragged gasp.

My hands bang against something.

A door.

I slam my fists onto it.

“Let me out! Please, please!” My throat burns as I shriek out a string of desperate pleas. “Let me out!”

---