The Decoy

The wire ran into the basement.

I knew where it went. I didn't need a map.

I needed a weapon.

I stood in the pantry, the third step pry-bar in my hand. It was heavy, but not heavy enough. Not for what was waiting downstairs.

I looked at the shelves. Canned goods. Pasta. A bag of rice.

Nothing lethal.

Then I saw it.

On the top shelf, pushed back behind the extra paper towels.

A bottle of lighter fluid.

Leo used it for the charcoal grill we never used.

I grabbed it. It was full.

I shoved it into my pocket.

I walked to the basement door.

It was locked.

Of course.

I jiggled the handle. Locked tight.

I put my ear to the wood.

Silence.

No... not silence.

A hum.

Electronic. Low frequency.

The sound of a server rack.

Or a refrigerator.

Or a life support system.

I stepped back. I raised the pry bar.

I slammed it into the door jamb. Wood splintered.

I pried. Hard.

The wood groaned.

"Elena?"

Leo’s voice. From the living room.

He sounded close.

"Elena, what are you doing?"

I ignored him. I pulled on the bar.

*Crack.*

The jamb gave way. The door popped open.

I didn't wait. I slipped through the opening and closed the door behind me. I wedged the pry bar under the handle, jamming it shut.

I was in.

The stairs were dark.

I turned on my phone flashlight.

The beam cut through the gloom, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

I walked down. One step. Two.

The hum got louder.

I reached the bottom.

My workshop was to the left. The furnace room to the right.

And straight ahead...

A wall.

A blank, concrete wall.

But the wire ran straight into it.

I walked up to the wall. I ran my hand over the concrete. It was cold. Rough.

But there was a seam.

A hairline crack in the mortar.

I pushed.

Nothing.

I looked around.

There had to be a mechanism. A latch.

I shone the light on the floor.

Scuff marks.

In the dust.

Someone had dragged something heavy here. recently.

I looked up.

A pipe. running along the ceiling.

It ended abruptly at the wall.

It looked like a gas pipe. But we had electric heat.

I reached up. I grabbed the pipe.

I twisted it.

*Click.*

A pneumatic hiss.

The wall section popped open an inch.

My heart was in my throat.

I pulled it open.

It was heavy. Steel reinforced with concrete. A bank vault door disguised as a basement wall.

Behind it was a room.

It was small. Windowless.

The walls were lined with monitors.

Dozens of them.

And in the center of the room...

A chair.

And in the chair...

A man.

He was facing the screens. His back to me.

He was wearing a suit. Charcoal gray.

Aris.

He didn't turn around.

"You found it," he said. His voice was calm. conversational.

"Get up," I said.

He spun the chair around.

He was holding a glass of scotch. He took a sip.

"You're very persistent, Elena. I admire that."

"Where is it?" I asked. "The recording."

"Which one?" He gestured to the screens. "I have so many."

I looked at the monitors.

My bedroom. My kitchen. My bathroom.

And...

The front porch.

On a loop.

Ethan. Walking up to the door. Knocking.

The door opening.

The muzzle flash.

The body falling.

"That one," I said.

"Ah. The director's cut."

He pressed a button on the keyboard.

The video paused.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said. "The raw emotion. The fear. The regret."

He stood up. He walked toward me.

"You're sick," I whispered.

"I'm a scientist," he said. "And you... you are my masterpiece."

He stopped a few feet away.

"Give me the hammer, Elena."

I gripped the pry bar. "No."

"Elena," he sighed. "Don't make this difficult. Leo is upstairs. The police are on their way. You have nowhere to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "Not without that drive."

"The drive?" He laughed. "You think it's on a drive? It's in the cloud, Elena. It's everywhere."

He tapped his temple.

"It's in here."

He lunged.

He was fast. Faster than I expected.

He grabbed my wrist. He twisted.

The pry bar Clattered to the floor.

He pinned me against the wall. His hand on my throat.

"You should have just played your part," he hissed. "The grieving widow. The tragic heroine. It was a good role."

I couldn't breathe. Black spots danced in my vision.

I reached into my pocket.

My fingers closed around the lighter fluid.

I brought it up. I squeezed.

The liquid sprayed into his face. Into his eyes.

He screamed. He let go.

He stumbled back, clawing at his face.

"My eyes! You bitch!"

I grabbed the lighter from my other pocket.

I flicked it.

"Stay back!" I yelled.

He blinked, tears streaming down his face. His eyes were red, furious.

"You won't do it," he sneered. "You'll burn the house down."

"Good," I said. "It's rotten anyway."

I threw the lighter.

It hit his chest.

The fluid on his suit ignited.

*WHOOSH.*

He went up like a torch.

He screamed. A sound that wasn't human.

He flailed, trying to beat out the flames.

I turned and ran.

Out of the room. Up the stairs.

I didn't look back.

I burst through the door into the pantry.

Leo was there.

"Elena?" he asked. "What's that smell?"

"Smoke," I said.

"Smoke?"

"Run, Leo," I said. "Run."

I ran to the front door.

I threw it open.

The cold air hit me.

I ran out onto the porch. Into the snow.

I turned back.

Smoke was pouring out of the basement windows. Black, oily smoke.

Then... flames.

Licking up the side of the house.

Leo ran out the door. He was coughing.

"My house!" he screamed. "My house!"

He tried to run back in.

I grabbed his arm.

"Let it go," I said.

"No! The money! The files!"

He broke free. He ran back inside.

"Leo!"

But he was gone. Swallowed by the smoke.

I stood there. Watching.

The fire spread fast. It ate the Victorian wood like candy.

Windows blew out. The roof collapsed.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

I sat down in the snow.

I watched it burn.

I watched my fortress fall.

And for the first time in twenty years...

I wasn't afraid.

Because the monster wasn't under the bed anymore.

He was in the basement.

And he was burning.