It was a very old house. The owner there was mysteriously murdered. Many people started talking about the old woman after she passed. They were trying to gain an understanding of what had happened to her. She was a UNHCR ambassador and spent much of her life traveling the world and was never at home. It seemed that the old woman's house was only really used for storage for the things she bought while she was traveling. No one really knows how she died, but they say that it happened in the cellar.

One night, we decided to go check it out. Breaking into the house wasn't even breaking in. The door wasn't even locked. It slowly creaked open as we stepped inside and we could feel the wind rush past us from behind and begin to air out the old house. We could smell old wood, mold and dust all around the place. It was the most dark and quiet place that we had ever been in. We looked around the house and were amazed to find that everything was still in it's place, though there were some white sheets covering furniture. We closed the front door and made use of our flash lights. Mostly old books and detached wood and glass doors were all that occupied the rooms. These were antiques but yet they seemed like they could be worth something of value.

We found the staircase with much ease and crept down to the bottom of the steps. We knew exactly where they led to. They led right to the cellar and to exactly where we wanted to go, into the darkness below. We reached the bottom and journeyed through the black. We looked around with our lights and finally realized what we found. We found a wine cellar, so old that you forget it's actually the present. The walls curved around and we made our way around the bend. Finally we found it. We stepped forward and knelt down to take a closer look.

Our lights revealed a giant black stain on the floor between the narrow walls. Our only guess was that the stain was made of old blood from the crime scene that they never fully cleaned up. No one had been to the house since the night it happened so it was no surprise. Our eyes scanned the room and fell on empty wine slots and broken bottles. The room was empty otherwise. My friend sighed and turned to leave, then began walking up the stairs. I stayed in the cellar to look around for another second. I walked closer to the stain and stared down at it. That was the moment when the coldest chill I'd ever felt crawled up my back. I saw what looked like footprints leading out of the mess on the floor. They were leading across the room. It seemed more like something came out of it. I followed the trail, with my flashlight in hand, to the wall and stopped to study it. I leaned over and looked under a shelf on the wall and saw that it was leading somewhere. The footprints were leading into the darkness. I thought it was nonsense and smiled. I shined my light into the space under shelf...

I turned and ran as fast as I could to the doorway and then darted up the stairs. My friend greeted me at the top. That house scared the shit out of me and I just wanted to leave. We walked silently down the sidewalk and to the car. With a turn of the key, my friend started the car and we drove off. What happened on the night of the murder is still a mystery. "Maybe it should stay that way." my friend said. She turned and looked at me with a wild eyed grimace. Maybe it should stay that way...