I Live in Your Basement (Goosebumps Series #61) by R. L. Stine

Author:R. L. Stine [Stine, R. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Horror & Ghost Stories, Children's Books, Horror, Fiction
ISBN: 9780590399869
Google: HaMmGwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0590399861
Publisher: Scholastic
Published: 1997-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

17

Our sneakers thudded on the wooden steps. The air grew colder as we made our way down. Mom is always complaining that we have no heat in the basement.

Gwynnie led the way, moving quickly. My hand gripping the banister, I hurried to stay close to her.

At the bottom of the stairs, I stopped short to keep from bumping into her. We both glanced around the main room.

A ceiling light had gone out. Half the room was hidden in deep shadows. I heard the DRIP DRIP DRIP of a faucet, coming from the laundry room at the far wall.

The sound of heavy breathing made me gasp. Then I realized the sound came from Gwynnie.

Gwynnie took a few steps into the room. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Hey, boy—are you down here?”

I crept up beside her. And listened.

No reply.

“Keith?” Gwynnie shouted. “Keith? Where are you?”

I shuddered. He was down here. I knew he was. Why wasn’t Gwynnie afraid?

A sudden sound made me jump. My eyes moved up to the ceiling. Gusts of wind were rattling the basement windows.

I stopped to listen to another strange sound. A mouse?

No. Just Gwynnie’s sneakers squeaking over the linoleum floor.

We moved deeper into the room. I stepped up to the pool table. I peered underneath.

No one under there.

Gwynnie pulled open the pantry door beneath the stairwell. She clicked on the light and searched the shelves.

She closed the door and turned to me. “I’m starting to feel a little silly, Marco.”

“He’s down here,” I insisted, my voice just above a whisper. “He says he lives down here. I know he’s here.”

Gwynnie sighed. “I’ll give it a few more minutes. Then I’m out of here.”

“Let’s search over here,” I said. “By the furnace.”

We made our way across the room. The furnace stood in the dark part of the room. It rose up in front of us like some kind of gigantic creature.

“Keith?” Gwynnie called. “Keith—where are you hiding? Come out, come out—wherever you are!”

Her voice echoed off the dark walls. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows.

“Hey—wait up!” I whispered. I didn’t want Gwynnie to get too far ahead of me.

She pulled open an old clothes cabinet. “Keith—are you in there?”

The smell of mothballs floated out. Gwynnie slammed the closet door shut.

“Keith? Don’t be shy, Keith!” she called.

We peered behind the furnace. No one hiding back there.

“The laundry room is the only room we haven’t searched,” I told her.

“I’ll bet he’s hiding in the dryer,” Gwynnie teased.

I knew she wasn’t taking me seriously. But I didn’t care. I was glad to have her down there with me. I never could have searched the basement on my own.

I followed her toward the laundry room against the wall. We were halfway across the floor when she stopped suddenly.

“Oh, wow!” she exclaimed. “There he is! I see him!”

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