Uncanny Maiden (standard:horror, 2569 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Sep 16 2008	Views/Reads: 3315/2282	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Something in the basement. A witch. Missing people. A reporter who goes a little too far really should turn and get out of there.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

house, but found a red painted wooden door blocking his way. He pushed 
it, but found it to be locked from the other side. Suddenly, he heard 
bolts slide back on the upper and lower parts of the door, and it then 
it swung open slightly. There was nobody there who could have opened 
it. David stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to do. If I 
go in, he thought, it might slam shut behind me. I have a chance now to 
escape. The reporter in him, helped boost his confidence enough for him 
to decide that it was worth pursuing. If the police weren't doing their 
job, and there were missing people here, then he felt a sense of duty, 
a duty to society, and to his superiors who would spray him with as 
much kudos as they could, with a promotion and a lot more money, he 
hoped. 

When he had crossed the threshold, the door closed quickly, and the
bolts slid back into place. In panic, he tried to pull the bolts back, 
but they wouldn't move at all. With rising fear, he turned and walked 
into the back yard. It was fairly large, all concreted and bordered 
with angry looking bushes. In the middle was a sturdy wooden post. A 
chain led from it to the collar of a doleful looking Rottweiler. It sat 
amongst pieces of bone and flesh, the concrete splashed in scarlet and 
purple. The dog then went to walk towards him, but the four foot chain 
stopped it. David could see fear in its eyes, even a thread of hope, 
and he guessed that it was not responsible for the feast that 
surrounded it. It was a meal. 

He then saw large pawprints leading to and from the backyard door,
accompanied equally by a human footprint. David did not understand what 
he was seeing, and slowly made his way to the door. Fear surged through 
him, and he wondered if he should just try to escape, get as far away 
from this place as he could, but he knew that he couldn't do that. What 
if I solved the case, he thought. I cannot come this far only to run 
away. He wondered about knocking to announce his presence, but thought 
that maybe it might not be such a bad idea if nobody knew he was here. 
It might mean that no questions are asked with regards to his story, 
but if he found those missing people, he could probably ask such 
questions from the safety of a prison interview room. Gripping the 
handle, he slowly turned pushed it. 

A grinning face made him stop. A woman who looked to be in her
mid-forties, wearing a dark dress and a multitude of jewellery stood 
there smiling. “I was expecting you,” she said. David didn't know what 
to do, or say, but after a few seconds, he stood back, and was about to 
speak when she spoke again. “I must thank Barbara for sending you to 
me. Usually I have to go out and bring people in. I take it you're here 
to investigate the disappearances. Well, there's one”. She pointed at 
the dog. “That's a dog,” said David, some of his fear subsiding. He 
poised his pen over his pad, and the woman walked out into the yard, 
but did not go near the animal, as it looked at her with absolute 
hatred. “Mr Gregory, who owned a bakery several miles from here is the 
latest to go missing, and that's him. He's food for my Morgan. My 
husband. I keep him in the basement, See? I can tell you all this 
because I know you're not getting out of here. If I brought the missing 
people in, then folk would get suspicious as to why they weren't 
leaving. So if I turn them into animals, who is going to ask questions 
as I bring them through the front door? Maybe somebody will think: It 
must be a zoo in her house, but that is not grounds to call the police, 
is it? or the press”. David's pen was still poised over the pad, 
nothing written. “Is it true you're a witch?” he asked, pandering to 
his own scepticism, whilst subtly revealing it to the woman. “It 
certainly is, but I'm not fully converse with it as yet, but I'm 
learning. See, I can turn people into animals, but my husband, well, 
he's not totally complete”. She looked genuinely saddened. “What's your 
name?” he asked. “Iona” she said. “Iona,” he repeated, writing it down. 
“Do you really expect me to believe that you can turn people in to 
animals and use them as food for your husband who you keep locked in 
the basement”. “I never said he was locked there. It's his own choice. 
He can wander the fields if he likes. In fact, sometimes he does at 
night. See, he cannot face what he is, what I have made him. I didn't 
want to make him like that. It's the way it happened”. “Can I see him?” 
“Oh, you'll be seeing him alright”. “There are no missing people here 
are there?” David said, matter-of-factly. Iona didn't answer. David 
continued: “What I see here is a lonely woman who plays out bizarre 
fantasies, and imagines herself as a witch. I'm guessing you don't have 
any kids, or perhaps any family”. Iona smiled. “You don't think I'm a 
witch? Explain how the door locked behind you”. “Trick machinery” 
“Trick machinery? Going to put that in your paper, are you?” “No, this 
is not even worth a few words in a side column on page ten, in fact, 
it's time for me to leave”. Iona held out her right hand towards him, 
then slowly lifted it up. David suddenly felt his feet leave the 
ground. He struggled as he rose, and ended up almost level with the 
roof. Iona withdrew her hand, and David fell to the floor, his notepad 
and pen flying away. “Ahh, what the hell are you doing? and what are 
you?” “Never call me a fake”, said Iona. She turned and walked into the 
back kitchen. “Come in,” she said. David slowly got to his feet and 
composed himself. He reluctantly walked into the kitchen where he found 
Iona opening a trapdoor. “Morgan will be glad to see you,” she said. 
David saw wooden steps leading down into blackness. He stood there for 
almost a minute, staring at it. “Can't he come out?” he asked. “Yes, he 
could” said Iona, but I don't think he's going to. He's turned himself 
nocturnal, you see? I suppose because he can be free at night”. He 
heard shuffling coming from down there, and scraping. “Ah, he's awake” 
said Iona. She knelt down a reached down in the side of the trapdoor 
and flicked a switch. Light flooded the basement, but David couldn't 
see anything except more steps leading down, and in a surge of 
confidence, he walked down until he reached the bottom. He found that 
the basement was quite small, about half the size of the back yard. The 
floor was covered with straw. Something lying against the back wall 
made him stop and stare. It was eight or nine feet long. It's right 
half was feline in appearance, the face melded into the features of 
what could only have been a sabre-toothed tiger. The other half of its 
face was human, but completely pale, bloodless. One six-inch tooth 
protuded from its large mouth. Where a right, human arm should have 
been, there was a front right leg of a tiger. The other arm was human. 
Light brown fur went down his right side to its leg, which was feline 
to its human left side, even though the foot of that leg was almost a 
paw. 

Iona walked down the stairs behind him, and suddenly and a thin, liquid,
transparent substance surrounded him, like an oval bubble. “What's 
this?” he yelled, and tried to break free from it, but it would not 
tear. He was trapped. Iona walked across to Morgan and knelt beside 
him. “What'll it be?” she asked. The hybrid looked at David for a 
moment, who was still trying in vain to break free. “Snack,” he said. 
“A snack please”. Iona stood up and looked at David for a  few moments. 
“I got the spell wrong,” she said. “He wanted to turn into a Smilodon, 
believing that I could use the spell of reversal to turn him back, but 
because the spell was not complete, or correct, the reversal spell 
cannot work. I hope one day to work out the spell specific to this that 
means it can be reversed. Still, he enjoys his meat”. Iona waved her 
hands in the air, closed her eyes and muttered incantations that seemed 
to be from another language. David suddenly felt himself contorting and 
shrinking. Pain tore through him as bones snapped and reformed, and 
organs twisted into other shapes. A scream tore from his throat before 
his vocal cords contorted. At a height of around two feet, his hands 
became rodent paws, and his eyes became black. After a few more 
moments, the transformation was complete. Iona opened her eyes a saw 
the terrified looking rat in the large transparent shield. She crossed 
over to it, and waved her hands the correct way to dismiss the bubble. 
Reaching down, she picked up the rat by the tail and looked at the 
petrified creature. David was conscious of what had happened and tried 
in vain to escape. “Quite apt, I think” said Iona, “You shouldn't feel 
much different, considering your profession”. She grinned, then swung 
him underarm to her husband, who caught him in his gaping maw. He 
chewed and swallowed in three seconds. “I've got a rottweiler for you 
to have later” she said. Morgan nodded, and went back to his makeshift 
bed. Iona walked back up the stairs, switched off the light, and closed 
the trapdoor behind her. 


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