To anyone who comes down the stairs it would not be expected for anything to be out of the ordinary. There’s a small door towards the bottom, but besides the regular oddities that come with a basement, like the door, there really wasn’t anything that strange about such a place. It just looked like a regular basement: things stored away like skates on the wall; the small objects that had lingered on the shelves for years in a thick coat of dust, but nothing seemed odd except for the door. A carpet sagged in the corner and was not the point of attention in the room because it was an old tattered carpet from the late 70’s living room that smelled weird and had an argyle pattern, but it had been ripped up and replaced when the new owners moved in. Yet the little door was the only thing to make the basement seem off. For why would such a thing be necessary? The door was old and not in the best condition. There was a beauty to it though with small unknown flowers growing through the moss that hugged the rusty metal hinging of the door. In the evening light it looked like something of marvel and wonder, but it was still odd for what and where it was.

The doorknob had not been opening in years because there was no reason to discover what might lie behind it. The elderly man who lived there would have to get down on his hands and knees to fit through the door and he simply couldn’t due to his knee replacements, so the door lied untouched. Then one day the nob started to turn slowly, maybe from rust or maybe just hesitant anticipation. The small gremlin ascended from the door and looked around the basement.

“Ew, the human world is so ugly and small.”

Then it turned and hobbled back through the door and slammed it shut behind them.