Every night, just as the clock strikes midnight, the basement door emits a blood-curdling scream that pierces through the silence of the house. At first, I thought it was a prank or the wind catching the old wood. But the sound is too distinct human, desperate, filled with agony. It wakes me from deep sleep, leaving me shaking and drenched in cold sweat.
One night, I gathered the courage to open the door. A chilling draft rushed out, carrying faint whispers begging for help. The basement was pitch black, and as I shined my flashlight down the stairs, I saw claw marks gouged into the walls signs of something trapped, something that had been screaming for years. Now, I fear what might come up if it ever gets free. Shutdown123