Otherwise known as my house.  The one I painstakingly sweated tears and blood to get in time to move, the one that brought me to a better place to live, the one that brings old charm into a beautifully old neighborhood, and the best place I have ever rented.  Mind you, this place was built in the 20’s so there are a lot of elements good and bad that mix into all of this.

Until it gets dark of course and I take notice of all sorts of things.  Every little sound from the creaking of the floorboards, the small drip coming from the tub, tree branches scratching my windows, and of course things always dropping onto the added-in skylight in the kitchen.  As I am in writers mode at this time of night all these tiny simple things turn into something grandiose in my mind and it runs away faster than I can keep up.

You see, I do have a few fears of the house.  Yes me, the one who kills people off with a pen swifter than you can get a paper-cut, I do have fears.  Granted some are warranted (like needles and snakes) while others are purely subconsciously settled.  Those won’t budge so I figured, hey let’s share 🙂

Lets start with what I like to call the Goblin Door.

See that tiny door?  I’m sure its not hard to miss.  It sits quietly in my kitchen between a door and the refrigerator.  Most would pay no mind to it or take it as it is, a door to something necessary.  I don’t see it that way.  I see it as just what I imagine.  A door that somehow lurking behind it sits a goblin determined to come out and catch me at the most inconvenient time.  So naturally, I have put a few obstacles in its path.  First, I have a tin object hanging from the LOCKED door, so if it were to slide open the tin falls and I’m alerted to the beginning of a bumpy night.  For good measure I usually throw the bin in front of it, followed by the broom, and a few containers filled with dog and cat food.  This by far is creepy enough.  Let’s move on to the other thing that really bothers me.

My basement.  You’re thinking, “yeah so its a basement, no big deal a lot of people don’t like them, but they are only basements and nothing else.”  Or is it?  Who is to say that this house is not sitting on top of a portal to the other world, the goblin door just being one of many places these creatures my come out?  It can be pretty easy to tell that something could be amiss in the supernatural world just by looking at things.

The stairs.  yes, the stairs.  Woohoo, simple.  Yet why in the world are they held up by rope?  That is something that baffles me and flashes red lights as I squeeze myself down them.

The moment I step down from the stairs I am greeted by tons of old brick, dirt, and rock since the house was built into a hill.  Pipe after pipe above me leading sometimes from nowhere to nowhere.  I turn to the left and what can I see?

A place Goblins can go to and from their other realm (or whatever creatures that might decide to visit)

I can only imagine some dark disfigured creature slithering out of that hole and leaving behind heaps of ash.

I proceed a bit further and something people haven’t seen in a while is what looks to be an old coal generator of sorts, complete with real lumps of coal on the ground. To me, this seems like an easy storage units for nibbles the goblins save for later.

Of course we could always hope that the reason these goblins have been kept at bay was because they  haven’t found a use for me yet.  Maybe they’re the kind that prefer to EAT the coal, or bricks, or concrete, add a multitude of minerals to the mix.  Let’s hope this is the last place they stop for if they want a midnight snack.

So there you have it folks.  My house, my imagination, and the creep factor.  I will tell you one thing, I kid you not, I have a sword that for any reason I hear ramblings, scurrying, clanking, or to even go to the basement after the sun goes down (it has windows, but lighting is left up to two dim bulbs) I will use to the best of my ability.