Fear from the Impossible

My fear story begins with something that alot of people may be able to relate to: Fear from the basement. When I was 4, I was afraid of what lied below our house, in the darkness of the cellar. I was deathly afraid to walk down those stairs. A good comparison of feelings is how the way the boys from Golding's book roamed the island during the day, playing and searching for food. But at night, when the boys hear what is lerking in the jungle, fear grips them. I was the same way. I played upstairs all day, without a care. But I shuddered at the first thought of having to go to the basement. My fear was of a wolf in our basement. A large, black creature, dark as night, with bright yellow eyes. It's fur was sharp like wire bristles. Teeth that were long, sharp daggers ready to sink in to soft skin. Its back stood 3 feet high, with his head reaching close to 4 feet. It had to measure close to 6 feet in length including its tail. A massive beast that could blend stealthfully into the shadows. This creation from my childish mind lived in my basement. I was scared to even turn the handle of the door. To make the descent step by step was certain death. The pullstring light bulb was to the right as the stairs came to the bottom landing where it split to the left and right. 15 feet was all that seperated me and light. But I knew what lurked in the shadows. The bright eyes would faintly appear from a distant corner. You could almost see the outline of his massive fangs; Hear the low growl from deep in his throat. Pulse pounding, I would make a dead sprint to the middle of the room as the monster slunk towards me. My hands fully extended hoping to find that drawstring before he got closer. I would find it just in time as the creature would be clamping down on my arm. I was ready to cry out in pain as I yanked the string. The basement was filled with a soft glow of light. The beast was gone for now. But the battle would continue the same way when the light was turned out. With me sprinting to the landing, the beast right on my heels. I skipped the steps 2 at a time as he gained on me. I would reach the top and throw the door open just as he would be reaching for my calf. Today's battle was won, I was victorious. I had survived. But tomorrow was always another story...