The Basement of Doom: A Kes Allyntahl Mystery, #1

By Mariko Pratt

Everyone has that one room/closet/door in their house that they just hate. They can't go near it. They don't even like to look at it...and it isn't just because of aesthetic issues or a lack of adequate storage space. What if there's a feeling that something is "wrong", something that's lurking there behind that very door in the dark... something that's come back from the dead...and quite possibly ravenous?

 Kes Allyntahl, a recent non human immigrant,  thought she found the perfect place, a seemingly abandoned rental deep in the woods of Northeastern Waldachia.

 While on a tour of the property, she is greeted by the sight of a shadowy form seated near the basement door. This is the first of a number of strange things to invade her new house…but will she be able to unravel the mystery in time before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mariko Pratt
• Release date: Feb 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781983484858

Mariko Pratt

Mariko Pratt was born in Mountainville, California and grew up in McKinleyville, California where she now divides her time between writing and illustrating and garden work. She had taken up a career writing in order to combat bouts of artistic block. Her artwork had been featured in several local shows along with artwork by her mother Tsuya Pratt. Her first completed short story, Paulie’s Puppy was narrated online in 2012 and there are plans to feature this work in a series collection set in an alternate Humboldt County where the bizarre and surreal is commonplace.

Book preview

TO MY FAMILY

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to sincerely thank all my teachers, as well as and art instructors, and my family especially, for giving me story ideas, for encouraging me to keep working hard and not give up.

The Basement of Doom

by Mariko Pratt

Author of The Flying Mouse

& The Treasure Hunters

vi

Ch. 1—Afterwards

I USED TO HAVE THE same recurring nightmare, especially during the summer months. I was back in that strange basement, wearing that same red dress and gold-beaded scarf. I no longer have that outfit; I got rid of it on advice of a shaman, which I’ll tell you about much later. Well, back to my dream. I found myself in that ghastly basement again, in that mirrored hallway. The only difference was that I was behind those long narrow mirrors, slowly walking this long corridor, its plank walls greening with moss and mold, its doors and windows broken by vandals.

The boundary between indoors and outdoors no longer applied here. There was ivy sprouting from every shattered window, and the ceiling had mostly collapsed into piles of rotting lichened beams and roofing tiles that were themselves slowly being consumed by vegetation.

At first, everything was okay. Despite all the apparent creepiness, I never felt ill at ease while picking through the ruins of this place. It was a bit like what I imagined exploring some ancient ruins would be...more like you were in a strange kind of nature park rather than a horror movie. Then, like in any horror movie, the atmosphere quickly changed. Bliss unexpectedly gave way to soul-chilling dread.

Rounding a corner (the number of doors between corners varied in a random fashion. There were no numbers on the doors or in the corridors), I was suddenly met by a cold rush of wind. It whistled and hissed through an abysmal landscape of rusty, dilapidated buildings lit by a reddish-purple sky. Cold phosphorescence gleamed from the deep snow drifts.

I gazed at the bleak scene in utter bewilderment. The air was now thick and choking with the smell of petrol fumes and burning ozone.

Movement flicked in my peripheral vision, followed shortly by the crunch of snow underfoot. Then my skin began to crawl when They finally emerged from the shadows.

I looked at Them. I pondered Them. I wondered why They kept showing up even after I left that house. Were They still wanting to be my protectors or was there a much sinister reason?

What do you...? was as far as I got before the whole scene faded and I was back in my room at the boarding house.

Ch. 2—An Explanation