It's a maze downstairs. And worse....

With your heart in your mouth you start down the steps, moving slowly and carefully. You think Brianna is behind you, but she could have come this way and be ready to jump out and scare you. You bite your lip, telling yourself to be brave as you turn down the last flight of stairs and reach the basement.

You're in a space that's obviously being used for storage. Large wooden crates are stacked one on top of the other, with passageways between them, making a kind of maze. You consider retreating upstairs, but you give yourself a mental pep talk and set off to explore, moving cautiously as you play the beam of your flashlight around.

It's all pretty mundane. Just a bunch of crates and boxes, some of them with serial numbers stencilled on the side. Compared to the creepy statues upstairs, this is just a bigger version of somebody's overstuffed garage, the residue of a packrat who never disposes of anything. After a few minutes you start to relax. Because of the confusing nature of the stacked crates, you're not sure if you've explored all of the basement, but you've seen enough to convince you it's not worth more of your time. With a sigh, you turn back, intending to retrace your steps to the stairs.

It's at that moment when the attack happens. A well muscled arm wraps around your neck like a steel cable, **** you, as another arm constricts your arms, pressing them against your body. With a **** squeal you drop the flashlight as you struggle, desperately trying to free yourself from whoever has hold of you.

This must be Chad or one of his buddies, intending to scare the daylights out of you. You cling to that idea as the **** grip on your throat stops your oxygen and you slump into darkness, your last conscious fear that you might be wrong.