I had set out on my little hunting expedition by going down the staircase into the front hall, truely a decent into madness. I wasn't really sure what was going on, but it seemed that everyone had gone completely insane; they were destroying the appliences around the house!
It took a moment, but I realised that the appliences were fighting back, and again I wondered why author had sent a man like myself to this place. Fortunately I made my way to the basement door without tripping over the radio that was scuttleing around on the floor and blaring music at full volume or getting cut by an electric knife that buzzed past my leg.
The basement itself was damp; I could see beads of water dripping down the stone walls and collecting on the packed earth floor. Strings of wires with bare, yellowed light bulbs ran from the stairs and through the archways that lead into other rooms. I could see old furnature piled and wooden boxes piled up in some of the rooms that lead off of the one I stood in.
I made my way through one of the rooms, Krinkov at the ready, half expecting my arm to float away like it had a mind of it's own. But I found nothing at first, nothing apart from the usual clutter and mold inherent to old cellers. But then I reached the furnace at a far corner of the house.
I was afraid to approach it (with all of the madness going on upstairs the machine was likely to incinerate me), but I could see a human leg poking out from a corner behind it, and attached to it was my prey. It was then that I was struck with a terrible fear (part of it stemmed from not even having a plan of action). I backed away from the thing behind the furnace, I back through the rooms I had come through (knocking over a pile of chairs and picture frames), and I backed up the stairs.
It was quiet up there now, and maybe if we blocked the door that thing would stay down there. I doubted it though, I had a feeling now that that thing could come and go as it pleased.