The basement at 82 Caulder Crescent disappeared again last week. Not all of it, mind. The handrail and the first couple of steps leading down into the swirling void were still there, but the basement had gone. Just as I’d hoped. It was night. I’d made my way through the broken window as usual, replacing the board. The house was still except for the creaks under my boots as I went straight to the door in the kitchen. Mr Evergreen hadn’t been seen there since I bumbled about in diapers, and judging by the state of the house, and the missing basement, I had a fairly good idea he wasn’t coming back.
As I stood at the top of the stairs leading to what had been the basement, I stared at the colours in the void. It was pretty, but I can’t really describe it. Alright, I’ll try. It sort of twinkled. Bright shapes wound themselves around the edges and then down into the dark purple circle in the middle. The last time I’d seen it, I swore I saw an elongated face in one of those shapes. Trust me, that’d creeped me out so much at the time that I’d ran out of there as fast as I could. But you hardly see a disappearing basement every day, and I wanted to know where it went. So, this time, I looked really hard, trying to see if I could see it again. I got bored after a little while and chose to get set up before it closed.
I’d come prepared this time; camera and everything. It was one of those sports cameras. Not the expensive one, the knock-off type. You know, the ones that you fix on your head. Of course, I wasn’t putting it on my head. No way I was sticking my head in the void. I’d try it scientific-like. I pulled the rig that guy from YouTube told me how to make from my backpack and sat down on the top stair. The once-was-basement vibrated my bum and made my teeth chatter. No sound, though. That was the strangest part. I turned the camera on, made the checks and hooked it up to the Wi-Fi on my phone. I quickly replied to Sally’s stream of nonsense and then waited for the app to connect, placing it on my lap. Then I got the telescoping stick out and screwed the camera on top. Slowly, I pushed it toward the void. The camera on the stick got closer, but it was a fight to keep it steady as the current in the void tried to pull it from my hands. Then it plopped in and I really had to fight to stop it from getting sucked in.
I checked my phone, and honestly; it was pretty disappointing. Dark purple and that grainy noise you get when taking pictures at night. Just a bunch of garbled colours covering the screen. I held it there for what felt like hours. I was going to pack it up, but I thought I saw something move. I could barely make it out. And then I saw him. Mr Evergreen. Except, he was bald, and it was too dark to see him clearly; what with the grain and all. But, from what Mum told me, I’m sure it was him. He seemed sort of dirty, and the way he moved, or should I say, didn’t move, was really weird. Before I knew it, he’d got closer to the camera. Staring straight at me, his eyes covered by the shadow. I looked up from my lap and I thought I saw an outline in the void. That’s when I checked the feed again and he’d gone.
Right then was an almighty clap that made me jump out of my skin. The camera clattered to the ground as I let go and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the basement was back, just as it had been the first time I’d gone exploring. No vibrations, no twinkles, no Mr Evergreen. Just a dark room with a couple of shelves and the washing machine that’d rusted from white to speckled orange.
It was definitely him, though. I’m not lying. I’ll save up and get the better camera, I think. A proper 4K one because the video I got was rubbish, you can’t see a thing. If you’re interested, I’ll give you a shout and we can go together? I’m definitely going back, mind. I’ll see if I can speak to him, find out what happened. There’s just something about it though, you have to see it for yourself. The way the void swirls and moves, it’s incredible. It feels like I could just jump in and it’d feel all warm and fuzzy. Like a big blanket, it’d just wrap me up and I’d be all cosy. Thinking about it, I might go next weekend; just, don’t tell Sally, okay?