👻 (this can wait because we already have many threada but couldn’t resist) sry
Boris hated this place. Cold. Dark. Lonely. So fucking lonely. His murderer had left him down here alone and no-one found him for weeks and weeks. Not until the police came in their white suits and masks. They dug and clawed at every inch of the basement until they found Boris’ body. Had been surreal watching him being zipped up in a small bag. His face all fucked up, clothes dirty with blood and soil. After that, the house stood empty. Only a few people came here. They’d walk about upstairs, loudly talking then leave. Never daring to come down the basement, only stand at the top of the stairs and stare down. He half wonders if any of them could see him staring back. He’s sure one child did. A little baby in its mother’s arms staring wide-eyed at him. He hated how they could all leave. But recently the sounds from upstairs came more often. Was… Was someone living up there? Boris shifts closer to the stairs. Moving in? He can’t get his hopes up. He died alone so he’ll be dead alone.
