Darkness Downstairs
A Lapine woman, Carmilla Casha, has a spooky moment while trying to get to sleep.
She couldn't sleep, so she had gotten up, thinking to make herself a cup of tea or warm milk. She was more tired than thirsty, trying to decide which drink to fix as she stepped out of her bedroom - and stopped.
She hadn't really noticed until now, but with the light at her back, the darkness at the bottom of the stairs seemed more pronounced. She was normally asleep by now, and her bedroom lights had dulled her night vision: the steps and railings just sunk into blackness ahead of her. She knew her way down, and had even felt her way to the kitchen and back with her eyes closed before; partly to see if she could do it without bumping into things, partially "just in case", and partially because she found a steady routine calming to her, like lifting weights or newspaper puzzles. Then, she'd done it in a self-imposed darkness in the daytime, whereas this was the real thing. Pitch-black and inky.
She started frowning when - right on cue - her mind started to fill that big, now-unknown space with possibilities. It wasn't like she was afraid of the dark (being afraid of the dark was for kits, after all), but she felt herself going through a sort of checklist of things that could be in her way down there: forgotten little objects, right in the path of her feet, jutting countertops and open doors, burglars and house-breakers, lurking things she couldn't even imagine properly - there was a creak.
The tired feeling was swept away for a bit as she focused her ears. She was sure it was a creak, and that it came from downstairs, but what had caused it? Flexing wood, maybe? Already having to remember it, she wasn't sure if it was muffled or not - if it was, it would have been by a step. She leaned forward, ears up and angled toward the black expanse, but all she could hear was the sound of her breathing and heartbeat. Then, the thought of something leaping out at her came to mind, so she stepped back. After a pause, she silently chided herself for her childish worries. As no other noise spread up out of the darkness downstairs, the tension sapped back out of her body and left her tired again. She couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary down there - though she couldn't smell as accurately as some of her friends could - and she just didn't have the energy to turn on all the lights.
With a dismissive shrug, she turned to close her door, content to make another attempt at sleep. Hoping her little brush with pointless fear wouldn't inspire any nightmares, she gave the darkened stairs one last backward glance before closing her bedroom door shut.
In the darkness below, something smiled.