Author’s Note: This story was inspired by the 2024 horror movie “Beezel.” ( https://epic-pictures.com/film/beezel ) If you like scary movies, check it out!
(You can listen to this story here.)
Real estate agent Rhoda Englebottom was good at her job. But even she worried that this infamous old house, despite its rustic charm, would never sell. Most people came and looked, but once they entered the basement, they ran out screaming. Nobody could say why, it just wasn’t right. Rhoda felt it too, a sense that someone or something sinister was not just watching, but waiting. Waiting for the dark of nightfall, waiting for the last person to run up the basement steps a little too slowly – and get picked off, waiting for someone foolish enough to enter the basement, hell, even enter the house – alone.
This house was for sale, but it definitely wasn’t empty. It’s what it wasn’t empty with that frightened Rhoda. But she was a professional. And the sooner she sold this damn house, the sooner she could get away from it.
Foot traffic was slow on this particular Saturday afternoon. It had been raining heavily, and people just didn’t want to get out. Rhoda hoped someone would show, not just so she could maybe sell this thing, but also so she wasn’t alone. Alone with her shadow, well, her shadow and something else.
Finally, she heard the front door creak, and a young couple, probably in their late 20s or early 30s, came in. He was tall, with quaffed brown hair, a firm chin, and an athletic build. He wore chinos, a button-down blue shirt, and penny loafers. She was petite and bookish, with long black hair, and a triangular face which held thick round glasses. She wore a bright green sundress that popped against her dark skin, and sandals.
“Welcome!” Rhoda called out, a bit too eagerly. The woman waved, and the man replied, “‘Ahoy! -which means both hello and goodbye in Hawaii!”
Rhoda introduced herself. The couple were Glenn and Trish Randolds. “No relation,” Glenn said.
Trish said in an Australian Cockney accent, ” We are in the market for a jolly domicile; that means house.”
Rhoda smiled. “I love your accent. Where are you from?”
Trish opened her palms. “This beautiful world is my hometown.” Trish turned to Glenn and smiled. “Remember Chile?” Glenn laughed, and Rhoda asked, “Oh, you’ve been to Chile? How exciting!”
Glenn smirked. ”It’s true! We spend literally hours on Google Earth .”
Rhoda nodded quickly, then showed the couple the house. Like many young couples, they oohed and ahhed at all the old-time little quirks, like the pasta chute. And this was an old house indeed. In reality, it had been a few different houses over the many years, with one commonality – the basement. One could say this was a foundation and basement that wore different hats over the past century and a half.
The tour started upstairs with the bedrooms – small, but each window showed a beautiful view of the surrounding woods. Downstairs, the large stone fireplace was a main selling point. Trish pictured winters tucked in front of a warm fire and writing her fan fiction novels. “You probably figured that out when you heard my name. Yes, I am THAT Trish Randolds! You and my other fans seem to find me everywhere, literally everywhere. It’s exhausting. But I’m not complaining. It is so rewarding to know I can bring joy into a life like yours. If we decide to buy, I’ll even autograph some of your copies of my fanfiction novels for you. Promise not to sell them though. JK. JK. I know you wouldn’t.” Trish laughed and Rhoda the real estate agent smiled with her mouth.
They worked their way to the kitchen, and there Glenn grabbed at his chest. Was he having a heart attack? But he smiled and pressed his palms together. “This. This. My muse brought me here, literally.”
Rhoda smiled; her day was looking up. ”Oh, are you a chef?”
Glenn puffed. “Better. I am a nutritional healer. I create, or I should say, through me nature creates health and vitality through Meganism.”
Rhoda cocked her head. ”I’m sorry?”
Glenn spoke slowly so Rhoda could keep up. ”Meganism. A vegan diet that is based fully on meat and dairy instead of plants. It’s the healthiest way to eat, and that’s why so-called ‘doctors’ and ‘medical societies’ want to hide it from you. I’m sure you’ve seen my YouTube series.”
Not wanting to lose a potential sale, Rhoda said, “I’ll look into it.”
Trish lit up. “Oh, you simply must. My Glenn is a genius. He knows so much more than those stuffy professionals, and he doesn’t even have a degree.”
Glenn beamed. “True. All my online followers call me Doctor Glenn, so it’s the same thing. So, what is left to see?”
Rhoda’s heart sank. She couldn’t get around it. This couple would have to see the dreaded basement. “Well, there is the basement. We should probably, unless you don’t want to of course, go take a look.”
”Sounds good to me. Onward Ho!” Glenn marched ahead, not knowing at all where the basement door was.
The basement wasn’t much to look at. If you have ever seen a basement in your life, you know this one. A few old boxes and rusted folding chairs that had never been removed, some cobweb-encrusted flashlights, and that dank basement smell. Glenn and Trish smiled. “Okay. Looks good to me.”
”Really?” Rhoda asked with a shiver. “I mean. Okay. Let’s go back upstairs.” She bolted for the door as casually as one can while climbing two steps at a time.
Back in the relative safety of upstairs, Rhoda had one last hurdle, and it was a doozy. “So, if you are interested, I have some disclosures about this house’s history.”
Trish waved her hand. ”Okay. As Lady Fimbeldom Said in my fourth novel of my fan fiction series,,, well, you know. Of course you do.” Trish chuckled.
Pressing on, Rhoda said, “This house was built in 1868, unfortunately, there are no longer records of the original owners, but, in 1877, the owners, claimed to hear an evil voice laughing in the basement every night at midnight, apparently they went to investigate one night and were found the next morning, in the basement, eaten alive. The town assumed it was wild animals that had somehow got into the house.
In 1889, the residents claimed to hear an evil voice laughing in the basement every night at midnight. They apparently went down one night to check, and the next day were found eaten alive. The town assumed it was wild animals that had somehow got into the house.
This went on for a while before Rhoda said, “- that happened in 2024. And the town assumed wild animals had somehow got into the house that time too.”
Silence.
Rhoda’s heart fell, and she had just wasted another afternoon trying to offload this brick monstrosity. There was no-
Glenn and Trish cheered. “We’ll take it!”
Rhoda shook. ”What?”
”Oh, we can handle a few wild bunnies getting into the house. I am quite an avid hunter, you know.”
Rhoda’s eyebrows arched. ”You are?”
Trish beamed. “Yes, my Glenn has played all sorts of hunting simulator games.” Glenn puffed out his chest. ”Technically, I watch others play them on Twitch, but it’s the same as hunting IRL.”
And with that, Rhoda sold the house. She felt relief that the house was selling, but, as she locked up the house that evening, could have sworn she felt, not heard, but felt something smack its lips.
Glenn and Trish Randolds were officially homeowners. Paperwork was signed, and Rhoda handed over the keys with trembling hands. She had never worried about her clients before, not like this. Before saying goodbye, she said, “It may be a good idea to avoid the basement at midnight. Even if you hear something, like laughter.”
They nodded and then drove off. Glenn called out, “‘Ahoy! Which means both hello and goodbye in Hawaii!”
That night, the house was bursting with unpacked boxes. Glenn and Trish were so worn out from moving they didn’t have the energy to assemble their bed, and opted to leave the mattress and box spring on the floor for one night, throw on a fitted sheet, and finish up in the morning.
But as exhausted as they were, they couldn’t sleep. They were just too darn excited. That, and the noises in the basement. It started around 11:45 with scratching and running sounds, and really picked up as the clock got closer to midnight.
Finally, their grandfather clock, which had belonged to Trish’s grandmother, who ordered it off Wayfair a week before she died, chimed. It was midnight, and something in the basement laughed. Trish turned to Glenn. “Say, it’s midnight, and there is an evil voice laughing in the basement.”
Glenn asked, ”Should we investigate?”
”I don’t see why not.”
And with that, they headed to the basement to investigate.
The basement light flickered as Glenn and Trish took equally unreliable flashlights and walked down the creaky wooden steps. The laughter stopped, and in its place was anticipatory silence.
”Hello? Is there anybody down here?” Asked Glenn.
No response.
When they reached the bottom step, the basement door slammed shut! The laughter started up again, and a stench like a sewer line’s morning breath wafted through the air. Trish whispered. ”I bet it’s one of those wild bunnies we were warned about.”
Glenn turned to her and smiled confidently. ”Fear not, mind lady.”
Trudging footsteps came from a darkened corner, then sped up, and before Glenn could turn around, a dark figure in a tattered black gown appeared. It was an old woman, if not a corpse, with peeling leathered skin. Clumps of matted black hair clung to a pitted scalp, looking more like black vines than hair. Her nose, or what was left of it, was a twisted mass of cartilage just below two beady eyes oozing black sludge.
Bile dripped out of her ragged mouth when it spoke in an unnaturally deep voice. “I am so hungry. I think you will do.”
”I’ll be right back!” Glenn bounded up the stairs and was through the basement door in a flash. The evil witch was used to seeing this. This was part of the plan. This basement was her web, much like a spider’s. But instead of sticky strands, the evil witch used terror to immobilize her meals. The male meal ran off in fear, leaving its mate. Cowardice. And she had seen it more times than she could count.
But this is what would happen next: the cowardly male meal would get upstairs, realize what he had done, and then come back down to play the hero. But it would already be too late. This female meal was small and skinny and would be easy to overcome.
The witch stared into the female meal’s eyes to induce fear and spoke, “ You cannot escape me. I am ancient, I am eternal – I am the Devourer of Flesh!”
”OMG! OMG! I’ll be right back!” And before the witch could grab hold of the female meal, it turned around and ran up the stairs as well.
“Well, doesn’t that beat all?” Thought the evil witch, who threw her decaying arms in the air and sat on a nearby folding chair. She didn’t chase her meals, and for good reason. She crossed her decaying legs and absently prodded at the rotting cartilage that was once her nose. When alive, she had a delicate nose, not beautiful, but nice. Then, in her early hunting days, a ‘meal’ got loose and ran up the basement steps. The witch had foolishly chased after it. When she grabbed its legs and pulled it down, the meal kicked her right in the face and broke her nose, which, now that she was no longer among the living, didn’t heal right, or at all.
She learned an important lesson. ‘Never chase meals.’ So, when Glenn and Trish ran up the stairs, she waited patiently. They would come back; her meals always returned. They can’t seem to help it. Curiosity eventually gets the better of them. After all, they just bought this house. What are they going to do? Stay out of the basement forever?
The witch was hungry, and her stomach growled, but it would be full soon enough. She blew out her cheeks, looked around, and listened to the cacophony of rustling through boxes upstairs.
Then footsteps. And just as the witch predicted, her meals were returning.
The evil witch’s meals were returning. But much sooner than expected. Usually they stay gone for at least a day or two. But this time the female meal started right back down, just minutes after running away.
The evil witch stood up, did a few stretches to limber up as this female meal was quick on its feet, and looked around. Maybe instead of waiting at the bottom, it would be best to return to the shadows, then surprise attack. She shook out her arms and legs, hopped a few times, and stepped back into the darkness as the foolish female walked back down the steps. Any minute now the witch would feast.
Trish called down. ”I can’t believe you have already read this one; it’s just now published. You must be a big fan! You and my other fans seem to find me everywhere, literally everywhere. It’s exhausting. But I’m not complaining. It is so rewarding to know I can bring joy into a life like yours.”
When Trish reached the bottom step, the witch soared out of the darkness, feet inches above the ground, straight toward her prey, who was –
”See? Do you want me to autograph your copy?” The female meal was holding up a book. The cover, in gaudy large letters, read “Team Ragtag Adventures, Book Six: Devourer of Flesh, A Fanfic Series.”
The evil witch was the first thing she hadn’t been in over 150 years – speechless. Her next meal was standing there, grinning like an idiot and holding a book. “Oh well, “ thought the witch, “at least it won’t be stressed out and taste chewy.”
But when she attacked, the female meal simply batted her away. “Now, now. Don’t be a goof. Okay. We will start at the beginning. Here, “ Trish pulled up two folding chairs. “You get something literally everyone, literally, would literally die for. Have a seat.”The witch refused to take orders from her food. She took a big breath to unleash her hell voice of fear and –
“Sit, sit, please.” Trish patted the other chair, then opened the book. “Chapter One. Lady Haggledon sat at the long, very long, wooden table with golden inlays of gold that she inherited from her grandmother on her mother’s side, but not her father’s side. And Lady Haggledon had just had the worst day, what kind of day was the worst day? Why, the worst kind of worst day, totally worst in the most dissatisfactory sort of worst ways, like a storm worst. As you know, Haggledon had originally been part of tribe Tenthor, but had switched her allegiance upon learning that King Tenthor, who had an extra toe, had switched his allegiance from his brother, Prince Tenthor, in the age of Mistaken Curses. But Lady Haggledon had really had the absolute worst of the worst day. Lady Haggledon had just heard back from her scribe editor, Prissy, who had the usual number of toes, who said a lot of mean things about “overly wordy and repetitive prose” which apparently poor, talented Haggledon had a written a copious quantity of in the novel she was writing at the time, Team Ragtag Adventures, Book Five, Age of Mistaken Curses, a Fanfic Series. And it was turning out to be the worst of the worst days, for regrettably, poor, talented Lady Haggledon would have to rewrite several, previous chapters before publication. And it was the worst of tormented days, like a storms. How vexing, indeed, she thought as she sat at the long, very long, wooden table with golden inlays of gold that she inherited from her grandmother on her mother’s side, but not her father’s side. “
“Fuck me,” the evil witch cringed. But then cracked her jaw open like a snake. She twisted her head, and her teeth glimmered, showing maggots slithering through green cavities. She leaned forward to tear out Trish’s throat before she continued reading.
”Ahoy!” called out the male meal, now walking down the steps holding a wooden serving tray. “Did I hear someone say she was hungry?” Confused, the witch looked up to see it grinning at her like a dope.
Glenn saw the witch’s confused look and clarified. “Sorry. Did I confuse you? “Ahoy” is Hawaiian; it means both hello and goodbye.”
”Nope, it doesn’t.” the evil witch snarled.
Glenn beamed. ”I see you are a fan of Trish’s novels? After all, who isn’t, right?”
The witch stared as Glenn walked up to her and said, ”Here. I heard you say you are hungry, and given your skin – condition.” Glenn pointed to the witch’s sloughing flesh. “I thought you could use some of my world famous nutrition assistance. Here is a medicinal charcuterie board. It’s all Megan!”
The witch, despite herself, tilted her head. “What the fuck is MEegan?”
”Vegan, but meat and dairy based, here.” The male meal sat on a folding chair, placed the charcuterie board on his lap, and pulled out his cell phone. “You’ve seen my YouTube video explaining my Meegan diet, yes?” The witch snarled as Glenn scrolled through his phone. “Irregardless, it’s in here. Literally in here. “Glenn scrolled along, looking for his video. “The series is only, like, three and a half hours. And after watching it, I can explain it to you.”
The Witch muttered, “Then why watch it?”
Glenn chuckled. ”Right? Let’s see. Nope. That’s not it. But the short answer to your question is most proteins are too small for your body to see; they are just tiny little molecules. but…oh, look, here is a cat playing the harpsichord.” The evil witch nodded in spite of herself. Glenn continued, “Most proteins are too small for your body to see, but Megan proteins, from meat-based Veganism foods, are bigger and your body can see them. I do all my own research.”
Trish stepped in. “It’s true. He is literally world famous, but ireregardlessly, she wanted to hear my latest novel. ‘So where were we? Right. At the very beginning. “ Trish began re-reading her book from the beginning, loudly.
Glenn shouts, “Found it! Here, help yourself to a piece of healthy meganism charcuterie while you watch my video.” On the video, Glenn is talking in a kitchen studio while inspirational background music plays. “Welcome to the New Veganism, the MEEganism, New You Program. I’m your nutrientologist, Doctor Glenn Randolds. But first, my attorney told me to say this diet program is not medical advice and I am not liable for any illness or injury. Do not take anything I say as medical advice, as I am not a licensed physician! Wink wink! So, what is the New Vegan, or ‘Meeganism’ program you’ve been hearing so much about? In this fifteen-part series you will learn -”
Glen nudges the evil witch’s shoulder and says, “Oh yeah, it’s three and a half hours per part, so buckle up.”
As Glenn turned up the sound on his phone, Trish began reading louder and louder to drown out Glenn’s video. And the evil witch, all 170 years of her, felt herself becoming weaker and weaker.
The Next Morning.
Real estate agent Rhoda Englebottom didn’t sleep well that night. She was worried about Glenn and Trish. She tried distracting herself with office work, but couldn’t focus. Finally she decided the best thing to do was to go to the house, check in on Glenn and Trish, and once she was reassured they were okay she could get back to work.
As a treat for her good deed, she would stop by the coffee shop for a large vanilla latte with an extra shot to help boost her through the rest of this workday.
Rhoda drove down the long driveway to the tucked-away house. She knocked on the door, and nobody answered. After waiting, she turned the door handle, and it was unlocked. This didn’t feel right.
Rhoda went inside and nervously called out, ”Hello? Glenn? Trish?”
Voices came from the basement. “Down here!”
Oh no! The basement! Rhoda, forgetting her own safety, rushed to the basement door and practically fell down the creaky wooden steps. What she found turned her cold.
In the basement was the most horrible creature Rhoda had ever seen! It had patchy black hair, vacant and oozing black eyes, and a ragged mouth. It looked like a corpse dressed in a filthy black gown. But unlike a corpse, this thing moved, or more specifically, sat on a folding chair and rocked back and forth.
Trish and Glenn sat on folding chairs next to the witch. Trish was reading from a large stack of books, and Glenn had a charcuterie board on his lap and kept offering pieces of cheese or meat to the thing’s mouth, but it wouldn’t eat, it just kept rocking and muttering. “Make them shut up. Please make them shut up. I need peace and quiet. Why won’t they shut up? Why? Why? I need my peace and quiet. I need my peace and quiet.”
Trish was reading aloud, almost yelling. ”And that’s when Tish, the lusty barmaid, couldn’t help but literally notice the bulging muscles of Gleen, the handsome proprietor of the world famous Evanswood Pub in Magictown. His shirt literally rippled as he put together a meat based vegan charcuterie board full of meats and cheeses, literally the best in all of Evanswood.”
Glenn looked at Trish and winked. “I love you, babe.”
Trish smiled. ”And I as you well, milor’d.” The evil witch shivered.
Glenn and Trish noticed Rhoda and smiled. “Ahoy Rhoda! We made a friend!”
And that’s how Glenn and Trish, and their new best friend, the evil witch, lived happily ever after.