Bumps in the Night

 

I hear strange noises coming from the cellar; bumps in the night, even the odd muffled scream.

I mention it to the beloved, “We haven’t got a cellar, dear,” she’d reminds me. “Maybe it’s coming from the neighbours.”

“We live in a detached house!” I protest.

She’s having none of it.

Determined that I’m not going mad, I wait until she goes shopping and start pulling up the carpets.

I find a trap door; steps leading downward.

“Hello!” I call.

No one responds

Too late, I hear my wife’s footsteps behind me.

I awake to find myself bound and gagged.

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