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The Company

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Estimated reading time — 4 minutes

We are all too familiar with creepy basements.  We all know the feeling you get when you turn the lights off before running up the stairs, praying nothing will grab your ankle before the last step.  As children, we would dread trips to the cellar, the cold room, and that cramped, dusty smelling spot under the stairs when we would have to retrieve that old box of Christmas decorations.  No, creepy does not cut it.  Words like disturbing, freakish, and hair-raisingly avoidable come to mind.  For me, however, there was one shining diamond that stood out against the endlessly black coal: our newly renovated bathroom.  This safe hold pleasantly contrasted the cracked cement floors, dark, musty smelling crawl spaces, and spiders the size of mice, whom you could find in every corner, and if you were lucky, crawling up your sock.

I would descend a creaking staircase, carpeted with short, mold-ridden shag, in a stairway immune to daylight, scurry past a hole in the wall that seemed fit for a grabby hand, and finally step into the serene safety of the bathroom.  Here I would shower, morning after morning.  Here I would be protected by the solid oak door; the only remaining piece of the old bathroom and the only part of the basement that filled me with feelings other than unease.  Naturally, this was the last piece to be taken out.  This was the one thing that was not like the others, and this one thing had to go – according to my parents anyway.  For precisely one day – meaning one night, one morning, one shower of which the trustworthy door would not serve as my protector – the door would be gone.  I would have to wait while the new door was whisked in.

This day is one I will hardly miss.  The thought of this one day will later be the reason I decide to go to bed early or keep the light on while I sleep, or more likely, don’t sleep.

I twist the knob, allowing an initial burst of frigid water to spit forth.  A few seconds later, calming warmth follows.  This shower is just like all the others – or so I tell myself.  I step in and slide the frosted glass door shut.  I peer through at the warped, glossy objects on the other side, morphed into entropy.  With the door to the bathroom removed, I can see into my laundry room.  I move side to side and it looks like thousands of tiny creatures squirming around in the darkness, all of them knowing now is the time to strike.

There is a certain feeling that engulfs one’s body when they suspect there is another presence amongst them and one of which they would rather not alert the attention of.  It is somewhat akin to the feeling of standing on a freshly frozen pond.  Then you hear the ice crack.  You don’t move.  You try not to breathe.  Currently, this is me.

I fully step into the falling stream of heat.  I shiver as my body warms up but wince as my frozen toes burn.  I squirt some shampoo into my hand, work it into my hair.  I wet my head under the water then turn back quickly to the door to make sure nothing has changed.  Closing my eyes is inevitable.  I shut them and stick my head under the water, rinsing furiously so I can open them again.

With just my four senses against my fears, I begin to panic.  It is then the blissful current of warmth changes to an icy blast.  My back arches away from it, my mouth instinctively opens to let out a small gasp.  I turn quickly and stick my hand out into the stream, half protecting myself, half waiting for the heat to return.  I’m still waiting.  Still ice-cold.

I would have reached out and twisted the knob further to the left.  I would have then waited and been rewarded with the return of heated water.  This all would have happened were there not already a hand there.

I immediately open my eyes after what seems like every muscle in my body trying to burst through my skin.  Following this is the stinging.  All the suds pooling in my eyes send bolts of lightning coursing through my face.  I need to open my eyes but can’t.

There is a certain feeling one gets when they know they are in danger but are deprived of their senses.  It’s the feeling you get when you wake up in the middle of the night from a strange noise and try to find the light switch.  You slide your feet off the edge of the bed and tip-toe towards your door in pitch blackness.  Getting the lights on is your only thought.  For some reason, the switch eludes you.  Your hand frantically searches the walls, your heart beating into your eardrums as you turn in panicked circles.  Currently, this is me.

This is all too much for my mind.  I’m quivering as I shrink to the floor of the shower, that feeling of spiders crawling over my body as I wait for something to touch my wet, exposed skin.  My eyes still burning, I cup some water in my hands from the running stream of ice.  I splash it in my eyes, doing my best to open them at the same time.  I blink a couple of times with my face pointing down.  I muster all my courage to look to the knob.  In the cold shower of water, droplets fall and explode into mist off my head as I turn to see the hand is gone.  I feel some warm life come back into my body.

I was almost convinced I had imagined the whole thing.  I would have stood up and finished my shower in the confidence of a warm flow of water and my newly sound senses.  This all would have happened if a cold wind had not blown in and cooled the already frigid layer of moisture on my skin, sending a shiver through my spine and down my arms.  I would have been so reassured if that thing would have just remembered to close the sliding door.

Credit To – DtheJG

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36 thoughts on “The Company”

  1. ever since i found this site i’ve been afraid or felt uneasy in the shower. and now i read this. not showering when i’m home alone now.

  2. Eeeek, when he’s talking about spiders-big ones-he says you can find them in every corner…or comming up your sock, I squeaked out loud.Haha I’m such a weenie; if I would have been in this guy’s position “there was already a hand there” I would have prolly made a hole in that shower wall trying to get the Hell out ..Lmao they’d end up having to build a whole bathroom…that’s what they deserve for making him use that creepy bathroom with no fn door.

  3. Crazy Drunken Protaganist

    Sees that sliding door is open.
    “Meh, probably just my girlfriend pranking me.”
    Walks out to everyone awake, and no visit.
    “Ohhhh, I know. It’s that guy that i lost to in poker. He probably wants the twenty I owe him.”

  4. I think this would be one of the scariest situations to be in. One, you’re naked and very vulnerable, two, you are in a confined space, so you are very very close to the thing, ans three, you only catch a glimpse of it’s hand and then it leaves, so you know that it is real, you just don’t know what it is or when it will return. Great pasta! :)

  5. I just had a shower in a nice bathroom in a creepy basement, thankfully before I read this. My hairs still wet haha

  6. I really like this story. My imagination tends to run whild in the shower and that’s where I think up the scariest scenarios. Thanks for adding another one xD

  7. Dark_Magician_Girl

    Wow. The story was okay, but the writing was fantastic. You’ve got a career going for you :~) bravo! 9/10

  8. That messed up moment when you remeber that time at night when everyone was asleep and I was taking a shower, that messed up moment when you relise that I was washing my hair and the water went dead cold. That messed up moment when you relise that I opened my eyes, and saw a hand on the nossle. . .

    True Story

  9. Hey everyone, thank you for all the comments and helpful criticism. I agree that what I was going for with the writing style didn’t quite come out as planned.

  10. lollipop_gestapo

    There isn’t a different bathroom to use, besides the one on the basement? Because fuck that. That shit is scary as hell. 9/10.

  11. This is in need of a good editor; the prose is very awkward.

    However, it succeeds in the one pivotal way that so many pastas fail: subtlety. A lot of folks around here could learn a bit from reading this.

  12. Holy hell, I need to pee now.
    That was horrifyingly familiar. Amazing pasta, the kind that makes you both happy and regret you read it.

  13. Sounds like a brother’s prank to me, but still very descriptive. It kept me interested. I wish that there would have been a little more evidence other than the sliding door being left open (grimy four fingered hand print or foot print being washed away in the drain or somthing.) Still…that’s just being picky. Loved it!

    1. That’s actually immediately what I thought of, that the person who had changed the temparature was an asshole sibling or parent.

  14. Really good pasta. :D
    Extremely visual all the way through and genuinely creepy.
    But damn that child is scared of everything!
    9/10

  15. Damn you, this reminds me of my shower! Granted it’s not in a creepy basement, but everything else down to the sliding door. Delicious pasta, love the descriptions.

    1. I’m going to give you a thumbs up because you don’t leave douchebag comments pretending to be a literary critic, even tho you don’t know the first fucking thing about what you’re talking about. YES THIS MEANS YOU ASSHOLE

  16. Awesome story! What do you do when you’re assaulted in the shower, naked? Cup the balls, kick, and scream.

    Jokes aside, I wasn’t bothered by the general awkwardness (something easily seen through for someone like me who just wants to enjoy a story), but it is not in my personal taste to be left with a cliffhanger. 9 for me. BUT! I will give it a ten, because that’s just based on personal prejudice.

  17. I enjoyed this, especially when you relate to everyday fear moments we can all relate to (being in the basement, waking up to turn on the light etc.) Good work!

  18. There were a few times when the phrasing felt a little awkward (the “Currently, this is me”s being an example of such), but on the whole I really enjoyed this. I was up in the air on this pasta right until the moment when the narrator felt the other hand on the shower knob. Oh man, the vulnerability of being naked in a closed confined space with only God knows what in there with you. And you are blinded by soap suds. Way to bring out some primal fear!

    I do think it a little odd the narrator didn’t notice the sliding door opening. Since their eyes were closed, hearing would have been heightened slightly. So, unless it is a very quiet door, I would have thought they would have heard it open. But it’s only a small thing. This story made my heart thump and that’s enough for me!

  19. THEN WHO WAS.......nevermind...

    This was really good and creepy. I think one way or another we all anticipate some paranormal shit happening to us in the shower. Especially if we’re alone. Hopefully im not the only one…

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