• Leaning against the front counter near the annoyingly flashing register, Alex stared out at the nearly empty video store. Walking amongst the long rows of movies was an old man who peered at the titles in the "classics" section nearsightedly, squinting his eyes and leaned close enough to them for his bulbous nose to nearly touch their plastic covers. Another person had gone into the curtained-off adult section and hadn't come out for more than fifteen minutes. Alex figured he would leave any messes for the next shift to clean. He was dressed that day in the typical "Video Barn" attire, a dark blue polyester t-shirt with elastic bands around the short sleeves and bottom that weren't tight but felt constricting anyway. Black slacks were ironed with a crease and hung straight over shined black shoes. His hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, a nice white plastic name-tag pinned rebelliously to his sleeve reading "Alexander".

    He hadn't heard any new noises from the basement in the past couple weeks. The occasional little thumps, sometimes a scraping sound.. Nothing as sharp and heavy as he'd heard the night a newspaper nearly gave him a concussion. He hadn't slept much at all lately. Those nightmares of his have been becoming more and more vivid. He hadn't had any dreams quite like them since he was a child and had nightmares of being visited by his father's headless body a few months before the man died in a car accident, which oddly enough resulted in a decapitation. This is what terrified Alex the most. If his last reoccuring nightmare came true, would this?

    Alex was shaken from his reverie as he was handed two Shirley Temple movies he rang up for the old man. "that'll be six dollars, the movies will be due on the fifth." Alex spoke with the air of one who absolutely hates his job. It wasn't the most polite way to treat customers, but the depth of the bags under his eyes were equivilent to his caring about politeness. The old man eyed him after paying, while Alex bagged the movies. His voice was quiet and raspy, made Alex want a drink of water just listening to him. "You live in that boarding house run by Rosie, huh?" Alex quirked a brow at the geezer while handing him his purchase, nodding. The old man smirked. "You know, Rosie used to be a very fine woman, when she was younger. Sorta let herself go after old Joe died." Alex had heard her former husband's name spoken before and knew he died many years ago of a stroke. He didn't blame Joe. If he was stuck married to that woman for that long, he would stroke-out too. Alex wasn't entirely thrilled about hearing some old coot's ramblings about ancient history, but he'd had nothing else to do, and couldn't exactly ask him to shut up and go the hell away. He feigned interest, smiling a little. "It happens to the best of us, sir."

    The old man seemed onto Alex's lie and found it amusing. He grinned a yellowed-dentured grin at him. "Not everybody's got secrets like those two had, though. I bet she's still got them secrets in the basement now, actually.."

    Alex's real interest had suddenly been peaked to that and he folded his arms across the counter, leaning into the old man a little. Though there was no-one else nearby to hear them, he spoke in a hushed tone anyway. He felt afraid to talk about the basement, as if Rosie might catch wind of their conversation and make him suffer for it. "Do you know what's in the basement? I've heard sounds.."

    The old man cackled. "Everybody hears sounds down there, son. Ain't nobody who wants to talk about it, though. Only Rosie knows what's in that Basement. I seen shadows movin' in the window down there, but I ain't seen nothin' more than that."

    Alex sighed, dropping his head. Still no answers. He knew something moved down there, but he didn't know -what-. That is what had been eating at him. -What?-

    The old man laughed at him and his disappointed expression as he headed for the door. "I'll just tell you, those shadows didn't look nat'ral. Not nat'ral at all.." The door shut behind the man with the sound of a bell, and Alex looked up in time to see a shame-faced hillbilly carrying a stack of movies beneath his coat toward the counter. Alex sighed heavily and straightened. Another long day.