Intro (Click to reveal)

(Intro music)

End Intro

(Tape recorder sounds)

D

So it's recording now?

Cole

Yeah.

D

Eh- okay. W-why are we doing this on cassette?

Cole

We already talked about this. It's so listeners can get the most authentic experience possible so they know exactly what the exchange is like.

D

Yeah. But can we just record it, like on good audio on the computer?

Cole

We could, but...

D

Because this looks like a lot of hassle just to get the right feel and, and tape's still running. Are people gonna hear this or are you gonna edit it out? Cuz that's just another thing to add to the list.

Cole

Seriously, don't worry about it. It looks more complicated than it is and no, no one's going to hear this part. I'll edit this out before we release it. All you have to worry about is pushing the record button and reading the story.

D

And why aren't we just taking the prerecorded ones and putting those up?

Cole

Because I want the listeners to get to know us a little bit first.

D

I really don't think anyone's gonna care.

Cole

Maybe not, maybe they will. Besides, I have stacks and stacks of scanned copies of handwritten submissions, and if we only showcase the ones people have submitted pre-recorded, we'd run out too fast.

D

Okay. And can you do it then?

Cole

No.

D

Why not?

Cole

Uh, cuz I have an important appointment.

D

What sort of appointment?

(Tape recorder sounds)

D

Entry? Uh, 003. Submitted on lined paper and written in black ballpoint pen original exchange dated September 3rd, 2002, written by Samuel Kerig.

It's tough growing up. When I was young, my parents were everything to me. When you're small, your parents can solve anything. They aren't afraid of the dark. They know what bumps in the night and they love you despite how much you ask them for help.

At some point that changes, I think it started for me with a hesitation. At some point, I hesitated, and instead of asking my parents to scare away the monsters in the night, I turned on the light myself. And it turned out I was capable of the same magic that dissolved the monsters in the light. I didn't need my parents as much anymore.

I can't remember how old I was when it happened. It just happened. Instead of asking for help, I just stubbornly figured it out myself. Problem is the more you figure out, the more you learn that parents don't always know how to solve the problem. When I learned that little fact about the world, it was like all at once, all the protection they provided was gone, and there I was afraid and alone and figuring out how to protect myself. That made me lose faith in them. I still loved them of course, I could never, not love them. Just made me question them more. I didn't just accept what they said. I, I questioned every answer.

Even if I didn't argue with them out loud, I would in my head, Why can't I just clean my dishes in the morning? I'd ask. Rats, they'd say. I've never seen a rat in my damn life, I'd reply angrily, but not out loud. I knew my constant questions and arguing, annoyed them, and every so often I'd see a little glint of a tear in my mom's eye, or a look of rejection turning the corner of my dad's mouth into a frown.

It's like they knew that I didn't trust them blindly like I had when I was younger. Getting old and growing up was tough for me in a lot of ways, but it was tough for them too. They were usually understanding though, and only ever once got angry with me. All my life, there was only one rule that I absolutely could not and would not ever break.

"Son, you are never to open the basement door. You hear me, boy?" I can still feel his fingers gripping my arm like they were made of snakes wrapping all the way around and cutting off the blood until my fingers were numb. "You are never to open the basement door. If you do, bad things will happen. You don't need to know more, so don't ever ask. Don't even so much as look at that damn door. Your mom and I can go through the basement door, but you can never, ever go yourself. You'll die if you do. And you mean the world to me, but if you ever go through that door, I can't help you son."

I thought he was angry at the time, but looking back, I think he was afraid. Whatever was locked behind the basement door had him scared stiff. For years, I would imagine all sorts of monsters behind that door. They'd be big and ugly with drool falling from their lips, and eyes that cried blood, and they'd roar so loud, but the magic of the door would keep me safe. And mom and dad would keep me safe. I imagined it so many times, it all became real to me until one day it just wasn't.

I don't know when it was exactly, but I began questioning what they told me about the door, like so many other things. I convinced myself I needed to find out the truth for myself like I had with so many other things. I tried to let it go. I truly did, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried to stop staring at the door, every time I faced it, I heard a little voice in my head saying, "Open the door."

"What if it's locked?" I asked myself. "Then kick it. Kick it over and over until that damn door breaks and crawl through." I waited till bedtime. I hugged my dad and my mom and laid down in bed. I put my head onto my pillow and through the slits of my squinted eyes, I watched as my parents opened the basement door and walked on through like they did every single night after I went to sleep.

Still though, I waited. Closing my eyes and trying to open my ears, trying to listen to their fading footsteps, counting the seconds I thought it would take them to be far enough away until I made my break for the door. Finally I got up. Stepping quietly I ran across the room and climbed the stairs to the basement door.

I turned the handle, but the door was locked. "Kick it." Said that nagging voice in my head, "Kick it down quickly. Now quickly." So I did. I kicked that door over and over. It was so loud. I knew whatever monster was on the other side of that door would be awake and waiting. And I could feel the springs in my legs ready to run.

Just far enough in before heading back, just to find out what was on the other side of that door. Finally my foot broke through the door and I pushed myself through the hole. The broken wood scratched me as I crawled through, and then just as I got on the other side... Nothing. It was cold. Above me was a large white orb that shone against black, and all around it were smaller, brighter, twinkling lights.

And there were no monsters. I don't remember what I was thinking, but I just started walking. And that's when I started walking towards the Flat Stone River in the distance, where you found me, officer.

(Tape recorder sounds)

D

I don't know why, but I didn't stop to think during that submission whether or not the basement door led down or up. I guess that's because Samuel, the writer, only referred to the door as the basement door, which usually means you're heading into the basement and not out. Pretty clever little twist.

Something about the way it ended though, that felt more like a statement you'd give the police, like if you didn't know just how much or how little detail to add.

I don't know why, but I, I feel like Samuel was trying to justify the parent's actions or... no, not, not justify, but they wrote it sympathetically to the parents, like growing up and losing trust was a betrayal to them. I don't know. I wonder what inspired this.

Oh, and Cole, I'm not sure if you wanted us to give our thoughts on the story at the end or not, but you can just edit it out if you don't want it.

Okay, well, I guess that's it then.

(Tape recorder sounds)

Outro (Click to reveal)

Mark

Tiny Terrors is an anthology horror podcast produced by Pulp Audio and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

D

This episode was directed by Cole Weavers, with sound production by Mike LeBeau.

Cole

This episode featured B. Narr and Cole Weavers.

Mark

To find additional information, or to join our Patreon for additional content and ad-free episodes, visit our website www.tinyterrorspod.com.

D

Follow us on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook at Tiny Terrors Pod.

Mark

Or join the Pulp Audio Discord by clicking the link in the description below.

D

Rate and review us on Spotify and Apple.

Mark

And finally, thanks for listening.

End Outro