Mason had been in the basement for hours, no one had gone against his command. He felt no sorrow for Terri or Melanie; they deserved his wrath for their snooping, intrusive questioning. He was worn out, as was the case after a killing. He laid his head down for just a minutes rest and soon was fast asleep. Before long he was dreaming.
Little Mason stood over his baby brothers dead, floating body listening to his mother keen. He couldn’t stand the sound and had to get away.
“What have you done to my BABY….?!” wailed Eleanor. Mason ran out of the small bathroom, down the hallway into his bedroom and slammed the door. It reverberated in his sick mind and suddenly he was back in front of the basement door, dreading, knowing what he would see if he opened it. His head was spinning and aching, it felt like it would explode. He softly touched the knob, unable to stop himself from going down into the dank, dark space. He navigated the rotten planks once more descending into the bowels of hell. He reached the bottom of the unending staircase, opened his eyes, he was terrified as his pupils adjusted to the blackness.
He heard the eerie sound of gleeful snickering coming from the back of the room still covered in darkness. His body broke out in goose bumps and he was breathing hard. He recognized the disturbing noise… It was Morgan, he had a menacing giggle. He strained his eyes in the direction of the creepy resonance. Mason couldn’t see a thing, he wanted to run but his feet wouldn’t move, it was if they were glued to the floor. The sound slowly yet steadily grew nearer. Mason tried to scream but as always, the sound was stolen by the dream. His mind was urgently warning him to flee but his legs were paralyzed. He looked around frantically and as he turned his head, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. His heart was pounding out of his chest as the apparition came in to view.
Morgan was grinning sadistically. His tiny body swollen with tub water and tinted with the blue of oxygen deprivation. He was still dripping and a puddle formed at his feet when he stopped right in front of Mason. He remained frozen by fear as the horrific demon child tittered obnoxiously. Suddenly his whole body started shaking violently, as the corpse reached out to grab him.
“Mason, wake up honey you’re having a bad dream.”
Mason woke with Melanie joggling him. He was disoriented, perspiring and scared to death.
“Oh good, you were having a nightmare. It seemed really bad. I’m glad you’re awake!”
“Where am I…what time is it?”
“It’s almost 9:00 and you’re in the basement. Are you all right?”
“Yah, I’m ok, a little shook up but ok.”
“You told me you were having dreams, are they all this bad?”
Mason was regaining his composure, he told Mel that this one was worse than normal and he assured her that he was fine.
“Let’s go upstairs and get you into something dry, your shirt is soaked!”
He followed her up the stairs still picturing his dead brother in his psychotic brain.