The Descending Dark
I wasn’t very gentle with the door as I kicked it open. In fact, I struck it so hard with my foot that I felt a stab of pain in my toes. Swearing loudly, I entered the stairwell and stormed down the steps. My footsteps echoed off of the close walls and metal steps as I descended. As I did so, I kept thinking that I shouldn’t have come to the damn apartment building in the first place. I hadn’t lived there in months. I had a place across town. The only reason I was there was at the bidding of my wife. No, not wife, I corrected myself. Ex-wife. Even though that was an extremely new development, there was a huge difference there. No more trial separation. What a fucking joke name for a fucking joke idea. You’re having trouble with your marriage? Let’s see if distance helps with solving all the problems the two of you have. Communication? Nah. Counseling? Nope. What you need is fucking distance. When she had called earlier that day, I had thought that maybe, just maybe, Courtney had realized the separation was nonsense. We had been together since freshman year of high school. We knew each other better than anyone else. It wasn’t distance that our admittedly struggling marriage needed. What we needed was closeness and an open dialogue and just being with one another. That’s all. We could get past our issues and get things back on track if we were in the same damn room together. Apparently the hope of reconciliation was an empty one. I had barely stepped through the apartment doorway before she was shoving divorce papers in my face. She had already signed them, her name written out in that perfect penmanship that she’d always had. The relationship of a lifetime burned away with nothing more than a few strokes of a pen. To say that I hadn’t been happy about it would be an understatement. In that exact moment I think I hated her, and anger had flowed out of me. I had yelled and ranted and raved, not really knowing what I was saying but letting her have every ounce of venom that I had festering inside of me. She had simply stood there and took it. The calm expression on her face made my rage grow even stronger. I don’t know how long it was that I screamed at her. It was quite a while, though, and by the time I was done I was soaked in sweat. Courtney had weathered the storm of my accusations and insults, and she had done so without a single word. Once I had finished, she had led me into the kitchen, sat me down at the table, and waited for me to sign the papers. She was so… so matter-of-fact about it. It was like everything that we had been through up to that point simply didn’t matter. All that she wanted was to be done with the marriage, done with me, and done with the conversation. Yeah, well, she had gotten what she wanted. We were done. All that was left of our relationship were the various items and mementos in the box I was now carrying. The apartment building wasn’t large, just two stories tall from the top floor to the ground level. I was about halfway down the stairs when the lights overhead began to flicker. What the building lacked in height, it made up for in age. It was easily the oldest structure on the block, and there were always issues with the power. Most of those issues weren’t serious, but they were still annoying. I glanced up at the lights before continuing on. I had only gone down a few more steps when the bulbs over the stairs behind me went out completely. Stopping, I turned slightly and looked back up towards the second floor. There were no windows in the stairwell, and without the lights everything more than a couple of yards away from me was covered in total darkness. My anger diminished slightly as a small bit of discomfort replaced it. I know it’s irrational and maybe even borderline stupid, but I’ve always been afraid of the dark. Not to the point where I can’t sleep without a light on. I’m not a child. It’s enough that I won’t go into dark basements or walk down unlit alleys at night, though. Turning back around, I started descending the stairs again. My pace was just a bit quicker than it had been previously. While I knew logically there was no one in the stairwell with me, the lizard part of my brain didn’t care what my fancy logic said and just wanted to be back out in the daylight. I felt a wave of relief go through me as I reached the ground floor. I hurried over to the door and tried to pull it open. It didn’t budge. Frowning, I tried again with the same result. I didn’t understand what was happening. The knob was turning, but the door wasn’t opening. After a few more futile attempts, I knelt down and examined the door closely. The knob itself didn’t have a lock, and there was enough light coming through the crack between the door and frame for me to see that there wasn’t a deadbolt. There was no reason, at least not one that I could find, for it not to be cooperating. It had to be broken or jammed or something. Not sure what else to do, I knocked on it a few times. Those knocks started off quiet, almost timid, but they quickly became harder and more desperate as the seconds ticked by without an answer. My knuckles began to hurt. Giving up, I lowered my hand and rubbed it with my other. “Hello?” a voice called from the other side. Despite myself, I jumped in surprise. I had been completely convinced that no one could hear my pounding. I waited for my heart rate to return to something resembling normal before I answered. “Yes, I’m here,” I said, leaning closer to the door. “Can you hear me?” “I can hear you,” came the reply after a moment’s hesitation. Even without seeing the speaker, I could tell that the voice belonged to a young girl. I had been hoping to get the attention of someone older and more likely to be able to help, but beggars can’t be choosers. I got down on one knee so that my own voice would be closer to her level. “The door is stuck,” I told the girl as calmly as I could. “Can you go get an adult to help me? Maybe your mommy or your daddy?” “My daddy isn’t here anymore,” she answered. “Momma says that he went to go live with his other family because he doesn’t care about us.” I blinked, not sure where to even begin with that. “I’m sorry. Could you go get your Momma, then? I really need to get out of here.” Another hesitation. “I can’t do that.” “What? Why not? It doesn’t have to be your Momma, it can be any grownup that can help.” “I’m really sorry.” I shook my head in frustration. “Come on, kid, just go get an adult.” “Nuh uh. We can’t open the door. A monster is in there.” Before I could even process what she just told me, I heard rapid footsteps as she ran away from the door and farther down the hallway. I started banging on the door again, yelling for her to come back. That yelling turned to pissed off screaming. Nothing seemed to work, and by the time I stopped my throat was slightly sore. A monster. It was probably some bullshit her absentee mother told her to keep her out of the stairwell. What a fucking brat. I turned away from the door and looked up the stairs. If I couldn’t get out this way, the only option was to go back up to the second floor and use the stairwell on the other side of the building. With a sigh, I started forward. As my foot pressed down on the first step, there was an audible pop as another of the overhead lights went out. I stopped moving and craned my neck upwards. The upper half of the stairwell was now dark. Only two lights, the ones closest to the ground level, were still lit. I stared into the darkness nervously, but I knew that I didn’t have a choice. Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, I started climbing the stairs back towards the upper level. Each step brought me closer to the gloom, and every time I took those steps my heart beat in my chest a little harder. There was something strange about the darkness. It wasn’t until I drew closer that I was able to figure out what that something was. There was a clearly defined line where the light stopped and the black void began. Normally there would be a fading effect, a certain distance where light gradually diminished until it was swallowed up by the dark. That wasn’t what was happening here. It was like the light from the bulbs couldn’t break through at all. I tried shrugging it off. My eyes were playing tricks on me and the fading was there, or maybe the way the ceiling was sloped had something to do with it. There was, of course, a rational explanation even if I couldn’t immediately recognize it. No matter how much I tried to rationalize things, though, I just couldn’t convince myself that something else wasn’t going on. My fear of the dark had kicked into full swing. As I peered up the stairs I was sure that I could see figures even blacker than their surroundings moving inside of the darkness. Without realizing I was doing so I came to a halt and gripped the railing tightly. I couldn’t force myself to continue on. Shaking my head, I practically ran back down the stairs to the ground floor. I didn’t care if I was acting like a frightened child. All that I cared about was getting further into the light and away from the dark. I set down the box I was carrying next to the door and leaned up against the wall. My heart was thudding violently against my chest, and I was breathing heavily. If things continued that way I was going to have a heart attack. It was difficult, but I managed to get myself calmed down enough that I no longer felt light-headed and the spots in my vision disappeared. I almost let out a yelp when I heard a thump from the upper level. It was the sound of the second floor stairwell door opening. I had heard it countless times when I had lived in the building. Now that familiar noise was scaring me half to death. I curled my hands into fists as I silently cursed myself for being such a coward. I waited for the person that had come into the stairwell to come down, but that didn’t happen. I strained my ears as much as I could while I listened intently. There was nothing. Apparently no one had actually come through the door. Maybe they had bumped it while passing by, or maybe they had taken one look at how dark it was inside and said fuck no. So quiet that I wasn’t sure that I actually heard it, something in the darkness moved. The breath caught in my throat. I stood completely still, my eyes locked on the spot where the light and dark met. In my mind that marked the spot where safety and danger were clearly defined. Whatever had made the sound was on the wrong side of the line. I was paralyzed, rooted to the spot as I listened for any other sign that something was really up there. While I didn’t hear anything, I became more and more convinced as the seconds ticked by that there was a presence in the darkness. I know how that sounds, especially coming from someone that was self-admittedly afraid of the dark. I was absolutely sure that I was being watched, though. There was another noise. It was still quiet, but I was able to hear it better this time. It was the sound of a bare foot stepping down onto concrete. I had been right. There really was someone up there. Under normal circumstances I would have called up to the person. These were hardly normal circumstances, however. Every instinct that I had was telling me that whatever was up on the second floor wasn’t just a resident of the apartment building. I didn’t say anything. I kept my mouth shut while also trying to keep myself under control. I didn’t think that my heavy breathing could be heard that far up, but I didn’t want to find out, either. I heard a third slap as the unknown presence went down another step. It was moving slowly and methodically towards me. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I attempted to pull the door open again. It remained stuck. When the person took yet another step, the next in the series of overhead lights flickered. A voice in the back of my head told me that I didn’t know that whatever was coming down those stairs was a person. Unbidden images of monstrous abominations came into my mind. Any sort of nightmare could be hidden in the darkness. I forced those thoughts out of my head. I was only going to drive myself into a complete breakdown if I continued thinking that way. I had to keep my wits about me so that I could come up with some way out of this. And there had to be a way out. I couldn’t accept that I was trapped inside and at the mercy of whatever was descending those stairs. I wouldn’t let myself be a victim, not ever again. I once again surveilled my surroundings in hopes of finding something that I had missed. I noticed a large air vent on the wall to my left. I either hadn’t seen it earlier or I had subconsciously dismissed it. It was up high on the wall, but I hurried over to it anyway and reached up. The tips of my fingers touched the bottom of the metal grate. After stretching as hard as I could I was able to grasp the frame, but it was secured firmly to the wall and there was no way that I was going to be able to pry it off, let alone climb up into the vent itself. The flickering lights died completely as I heard another step in the darkness. This one was closer, around the halfway mark where there was a small landing before the stairs turned towards my direction. The gap between myself and the unseen presence had closed considerably while I had been distracted with the vent. I looked up. There was only one set of lights left. The illuminated section of the stairwell now barely reached to the stairs. If the last bulbs went out, there wouldn’t be anything left except the small amount of light coming from the red Exit sign above the door. I backed up closer to the door. There really wasn’t a way out. Even though I knew it was pointless, I grabbed the knob and pulled as hard as I could. After straining against it for a long moment, I placed one foot on the wall and yanked back so hard that my other foot came off the ground. For at least a minute I put my full bodyweight into it, suspended above the ground as I prayed that my sweaty hands wouldn’t slip off the knob. The muscles in my back and arms went from sore to feeling like they were on fire, and I was forced to stop. I banged on the door with my right hand. There wasn’t much power behind it. I was exhausted from the exertion and fear. Not knowing what else to do, I turned towards the encroaching darkness as the lights started dimming. “Please,” I begged, feeling tears start to run down my cheeks. “Please just leave me alone.” The last of the overhead lights went out. With terror completely taking over, I pressed myself up against the door. The only source of light now was the dim red glow of the Exit sign, and although it wasn’t even strong enough to illuminate my entire body, I clung to the hope that it would protect me like a child clings to a stuffed animal. My eyes were moving constantly back and forth as they tried in vain to see anything in the darkness. I was breathing in short ragged gasps and on the verge of a panic attack. Because of this, it took a moment for me to smell the scent that had wafted into my nose. When I finally realized what it was, though, I recognized it immediately. It was the smell of the shampoo that my wife used. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but I became even more afraid. It wasn’t possible that she was here. There was no fucking way. My mind flashed back to the scene in Courtney’s apartment earlier that afternoon. She had ambushed me with the divorce papers, and after my initial anger over that had started to die down, we had gone into the kitchen and I had signed the papers. She had gotten what she wanted. Even though I had signed the damn papers that I never wanted in the first place, she just had to open her mouth one last time. She had looked me in the eye and told me with this look of pity on her face that this was for the best. That was when all the pain and disappointment and boiling rage came back tenfold. This woman who didn’t even want to be in my life anymore was going to tell me that she knew what was best for me? Fuck her! How dare she think that she had the right to determine anything for me! I’d show her who was the one making the fucking decisions. Picking up the same pen I had used to sign the papers, I had lunged out of my chair and drove it deep into Courtney’s right eye. Our combined weight toppled her own chair over onto the tile kitchen floor, and although she opened her mouth to scream, the impact had forced the wind out of her lungs. Untangling myself, I had hurried over to a set of drawers and dug out a butcher knife. With the handle clenched tightly in my hand, I returned to Courtney. I’m not sure how long I stabbed her. I just kept plunging the knife into her body over and over again. Each time felt just as good as the first. By the time that I had grown too tired to continue, both myself and the kitchen were covered in blood, and Courtney was completely unrecognizable as she laid dead on the floor. Feeling a sense of calmness for the first time in a long time, I had washed up in the bathroom and changed into some of her clothes that were close to my size. I had then gotten a small box out of a closet and filled it with items from around the apartment that I had purchased over the years. There was no sense in leaving them behind. It wasn’t like she was going to need them anymore. Before I had left the apartment, the very last thing that I had done was go back over to Courtney’s remains and looked down at them. She had been such a strong woman in life, but now she was nothing at all. After what she had put me through, it seemed fitting. I spit on the body and left. There was absolutely no way that she could have survived. None whatsoever. This had to be my mind playing tricks on me. It was the result of the panic I was feeling over the lights going out. That had to be it. I heard a quiet tinkling noise coming from a short distance in front of me. Courtney had a pair of acorn earrings that she liked to wear. When she moved, the dangling halves of the acorns would strike each other, making a distinct jingle-like sound. I tried to remember if she had been wearing them when I had killed her. I wasn’t sure, but I thought that she was. Something moved in the darkness, and this time I could see it. I couldn’t make out any details, but something even blacker than the shadows had shifted. My voice was caught in my throat. No matter how much I wanted to cry out and beg for this nightmarish creature to leave me alone, not a single word would come out. My entire body recoiled as something extended out of the darkness towards me. With the fear clouding my senses I didn’t recognize what it was, and I stared at it blankly. The object was shaken aggressively by the holder. Scared of what would happen if I didn’t figure out what was going on, I peered closer at it. It was a piece of paper. It was too dark for me to tell for sure, but it looked like it was blank. The only exception to this was a long thin line that went from one side of the paper to the other. “One more to sign,” a soft and raspy voice said from within the darkness. Another object was extended to me and I took it immediately. I dropped it just as quickly. It was the pen that I had stabbed Courtney in the eye with. The unseen speaker hissed, and I quickly knelt down to collect the fallen pen. I had to grope around in the darkness for it, and for a horrible moment I thought that I wouldn’t be able to find it. My fingers finally wrapped around it and I stood back up. “Sign,” the voice instructed me firmly. Nodding rapidly, I turned slightly so that I could press the paper against the door. With a shaking hand I signed my signature on the line. All of the lights in the stairwell burst to life. I screamed in surprise, dropping the paper and pen in the process as some small part of my mind registered that no one was in front of me. Before the scream had fully escaped my lungs, I felt something slam into me. I stumbled a short distance before tripping and falling to the hard concrete floor. It was the door that had hit me. It pushed inward, and a man in a police uniform stepped into the stairwell. He looked around before his eyes fell on me. He hurried over to me and helped me back to my feet. “Are you all right, sir?” the officer asked. “We got a call that someone was stuck in here.” I couldn’t answer him. Thinking back on it I think that I was in shock. The ordeal I had just gone through had taken everything out of me, and all that I could do was break down and start sobbing. “It’s going to be okay,” the officer told me awkwardly. “Bradley?” another man’s voice interjected. Through my tears, I looked towards the voice. A second officer had come into the stairwell. He was younger than the first, and he was staring at the older man with a look of surprise on his face. His right hand was raised up. Pinched between his fingers was a piece of paper, the same paper that I had dropped. Written in blood, slightly distorted from the wrinkles in the paper and above my clearly visible signature, were the words, I Killed My Wife. “I told you there’s a monster in there,” a little girl said from out in the hallway. Credit: Tim Sprague Official Site Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.