The White Room by A. J. Matthews

Author:A. J. Matthews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Berkley Books
Published: 2001-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

ten

“What could possibly happen in the clear light of day?” Polly whispered to herself as she let go of the doorknob and placed her left foot on the first step leading down into the cellar.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the clear light of day down there in the cellar. Even with the light on at the foot of the stairs, the dank air was suffused with a gloomy, gray glow. The top step creaked as she shifted her weight onto it, and a cool dampness washed over her face and arms, raising goose bumps. She placed her right hand on the banister and the other hand on the opposite wall for balance. The crumbling yellow plaster was damp and gritty to the touch.

She knew that she didn’t have to be doing this.

She could just as easily close and lock the cellar door and never look down there again. The family’s vacation time wasn’t turning out at all the way she had hoped it would. She wouldn’t be surprised if Tim decided to leave in a few days.

So why not just forget all about what might be down here?

She asked herself this question over and over, but that didn’t stop her from placing her foot onto the next step down and shifting her weight forward. The banister was worn as smooth as marble with age and use. Her grip on it tightened when the stairs snapped so loudly it sounded like a small firecracker going off.

Polly paused and sniffed the air. It had a moist, earthy smell tinged with a cloying brackish aroma that made her think of stagnant well water. That impression was intensified when she took another step down, and the cool air of the cellar wafted around her, making her feel as though she were wading deeper and deeper into a pool of fetid water.

Polly noticed something curious about sounds down here, too.

The farther she went down the stairs, the more muffled the air seemed, as though it were too dense to transmit sounds clearly. Even the creaking of the old stairs sounded different, somehow, like the roaring crackle of a fire in the distance. She sniffed the air, her breathing sounding unusually loud.

Running her hands over her bare arms, she glanced over her shoulder at the small rectangle of kitchen she could still see. It looked impossibly far away, and she couldn’t shake the disorienting feeling that she was slipping into another world, another dimension.

Don’t be ridiculous, she cautioned herself, reaching out and grabbing the banister again. You’re just going to scare yourself.

Widening her nostrils, she sniffed the air, trying to determine if there really was another smell she could just barely detect or if she was imagining it. The shadows were densest at the far end of the cellar. In the corner of her eyes, she thought she caught flittering hints of motion. In the ghostly gray light, she could almost imagine that she saw rafts of dust or thin smoke hovering near the ceiling, assuming vague, indistinct shapes.

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