Publisher: Pen, Pint & Pyre
Author (Short Story)
There's a lock on the basement door back in my childhood home. It’s on the side that keeps whatever is down there from whoever is up here. To be honest, the lock is quite plain. A simple, flecked chain that was once shiny gold bolted onto a dark wood door. Every night when I was a kid, someone would lock it. My mom, maybe. My dad. Perhaps one of my sisters. I never saw who. After dark, I would find that faded brass chain slid into place. Come morning, it would be unlocked. No one ever said why.