Nah, Lana thought, feeling that it was probably too soon to go snooping in her grandfather's things.

Ripping her eyes away from the basement door, she scanned the kitchen. Was it just her, or did the mess multiply in the last few seconds? Ugh, she was not looking forward to cleaning up the mini-tornado level of disaster before her at all, but nothing gets done if you just stand around looking at it. She sighed and grabbed the broom from a hook on the wall. After a few half-hearted sweeps, her curious baby blues wandered back to the forbidden basement door. The tiny knob gleamed and sparkled in its bronze beauty. It practically beckoned to her.

Oh, fuck it, this mess will be here when I get back, she decided.

Raya had to smoosh all of the stuffed animals to shut her closet. When the door latched, she stood like a goalie, expecting it to pop back open. It didn't, and after a second or two, she let her guard down.

Upon turning away, she spotted an ear from her stuffed bunny, peeking out from under the bed. One light kick sent it flying on underneath; it just wasn't worth it to open the closet again.

Sighing, she sat in front of her vanity mirror. All of her new makeup was in the Impala. Before her was only neutral colors from her subtle days: no blacks, no reds, no fake lashes; only browns, nudes, and very light pinks. Her old collection was so innocent, it brought a tiny smile to her face. If only she were that sweet girl who bought these things.

Well, it's no good now, she thought. Not only because she was a were-harlot now, but also because it was years old and its moisture had long since left it behind.

She rubbed her hands over her bare face in frustration. Pining for her old life was just no good. It was time to step up, to play the hand she'd been dealt. Being a werewolf and a call girl wasn't all bad. She made good money, when she was making money, and she could heal like Wolverine. Yeah, there were downfalls, but everything had its downfalls, right?

"Stop pouting, Raya," she told herself. "At least you're alive and healthy. And you've got all of these new powers. . ."

Her stomach grumbled, causing her to groan. Breakfast was so long ago, and the wolf in her was starving. There was no food in the house. Whatever had been edible had been destroyed by the raccoon. Stomachs never understand when there is no food, however, and it growled at her again.

"Fine," she huffed.

She'd have to go buy food eventually anyway. Now was as good a time as any. Her car was trashed, so she'd just have to take Grandpa's old truck.

Lana jumped to her feet, venturing across the kitchen's seaweed colored tile, kicking trash aside in-between steps.

"Damn raccoons," she cursed as she horse kicked an empty box of swiss rolls. It thumped against the far wall and knocked the clock off of its nail.

Thank goodness that's plastic, she thought.

She focused, again, on the mission: find out what mysteries the basement holds. Anticipation began to consume her entire body. Finally, the door was no longer off limits! She could dance the Macarena around it naked if she wanted to. There was nothing stopping her. The boundaries had lifted. Possibilities swam through her head of what she may find inside.

Gypsy treasure? Did Gypsies have treasure? No, that's pirates. Some kind of magic room? His repellers were for real, so what else could he have made? Why was it always forbidden? Why was nobody allowed down, not ever?

The forest green basement door, with multiple sized cracks splintered throughout its frame, waited for Lana to open it and explore its secrets. Upon nearing it, she noticed tiny symbols were visibly engraved in the wood. She'd never seen those before. She squinted, leaning in close, her nose only centimeters away from making contact. Her hands rested on the door's frame for support, and she managed to make out what appeared to be the sun, the moon, and three humanoid figures. Two number sevens were carved slightly bigger in size, located in the far left hand corner.

Nope, those markings were definitely not visible before. However, her eyesight, along with her other senses, had become a thousand times stronger. The engravings had clearly been painted over - a logical reason for her previously human eyes to have never noticed them. Or it could have just been that she had merely paid it no mind. Either way, it was odd and creepy.

What was the significance of the numbers seventy-seven? And why did two of the humanoids seem to be dragging the third to its doom? Grandpa's magic was pure and good...wasn't it? She stepped back, gripped the tiny bronze knob, and gave it a slow twist to the right. To her surprise, it was not locked. The door creaked open, releasing the muskiest, dampest odor she'd ever encountered.

Lana's face scrunched up and she fanned the air in front of her with her hand. "Damn!"

Raya hefted from her vanity and tread the path to Grandpa's study.

She was standing in front of the desk, trying to remember which drawer he left his keys in. She let out a grunt of frustration when her tummy panged, and began opening any drawer. The first one was just papers; bills and receipts. The next was just this and thats; pens, paper clips, and white-out. The third on the left side was shut tight with a small lock.

What was so important he had to lock it away? She wondered. He used to lock away his whiskey, but he hadn't done that for darn near nine years.

The keys were in the top drawer on the right, and as luck would have it, a tiny key was mixed in with the rest. Letting her curiosity overpower her hunger, Raya fit the little key in the drawer's lock and heard the satisfying little click.

If her luck kept up, she'd be greeted with a fresh bottle of Jack or Jim - two of her favorite fellas.

But there was nothing like that in the drawer. Instead, there was a leather-bound book inside. Nothing on the cover gave any clues to the contents. It was plain brown leather with no words. She flipped through it, and, right away, her heart caught in her throat. She'd better get Lana for this one.

Lana coughed through the dust she'd stirred by opening the door and covered her nose.

Why does everything old have to stink? Can't old ever smell good? Old clothes smell like butt and sweat, old houses smell like rot, old cars smell oily and stale, and old people...well that scent is hard to pinpoint. Lana ranted to herself. Everything old stinks!

The thought of being in the forbidden basement finally took control of her, making her forget her train of thought. All that mattered now was what lay below. Thick cream-colored spiderwebs cloaked the entrance way. Lana pawed through the sticky webs, making her way down the stairs. Rubbing her hands along the walls, she felt no indication of a light switch. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the pitch darkness. There was no light source at all, nothing for her wolf eyes to reflect. Quite honestly, she couldn't see shit. Lana's right foot rudely introduced itself to a clunky rock, causing her to tumble only two steps from the bottom of the stairs.

"Oof!" Lana huffed.

She landed on her belly with her face planted in the dirt floor. The smell of dirt momentarily overtook any other scent in the room. She'd actually always liked the way dirt smelled, in a weird way, but she was not too fond of inhaling it up her nose.

"Owie," she wined, rolling over to her back.

After a little sneezing fit, she rotated her foot in little circles to assure it wasn't sprained. Once confident her journey could continue without complications, she jumped to her feet, shaking from head to toe to remove all the dirt she collected and any other unknown particles.

Lana's nose began to burn. With the dirt out of her nostrils, a new stench greeted her. It was death, and it consumed the room until borderline unbearable. It brought her to the brink of throwing up in her mouth, but she fought the impulse. It was as if a draft came through carrying the rank odor of decay.

The darkness was consuming. There had to be a light source around somewhere. She took a step forward to try and find the wall, but hit another rock instead. This time, Lana managed to stay balanced, avoiding another fall on her face.

"Stupid fucking rocks!" she yelled. "I'm on a mission here!" And it doesn't involve stumbling through the place, she added silently.

She stomped on the intruding rock bastard, and to her surprise, it gave way, sinking into the floor under her mighty blow.

Oops, she thought as multiple poofs seemed to fill the room. For a second, she thought she'd tripped some wacky trap, but it was just light. Shadows danced along a path, lit up by live fire in small lanterns that lined the passage way walls. Lana was in awe. How Grandpa rigged that one up was lost on her. She expected to find something interesting, but a dug out passage way lined with lanterns. . .

This is definitely some Indiana Jones shit, she thought.

Of course she had to venture on, at this point, there was no stopping her. She walked slowly, only looking forward. The awful smell was burning her nose and eyes, all the while growing stronger. It churned Lana's stomach and was making her dread what was ahead.

The funk of death never means anything good, it just can't, she convinced herself.

Lana's ears picked up a tiny rhythm, a thumping that resembled a weak drumb beat.

What in Hades is that? Lana wondered as she scanned the room. A heartbeat maybe? What else could it be? But where is it coming from? Can someone be down here? Alive? How could they get down here?

Lana grew anxious under all the possibilities and picked up the pace, scurrying forward. The further she walked, the louder the rythm got, until it was obnoxious. It was a heartbeat indeed, and quite deafening in such a silent place.

When the walls finally broke apart into a room, she had no idea what to think of what she was looking at. A mound of human-like corpses were stacked in a sloppy pile a mere three feet from her. A dark liquid covered the ground; it resembled a mixture of blood, puss, and...bowel movements.

Good God, she thought, really having to fight back the bile at this point. Grandpa...he couldn't have. . .

The bodies were not the only source of the stench however, and certainly not the source of the heartbeat. A set of glowing neon-blue eyes quickly caught Lana's attention. She leaped back against the dirt-wall, distancing herself by instinct. The eyes sat steady and looked into hers. The creature belonging to them released a low, exhausted moan, then cried out very weakly, "Laaaaaanaaa."