Some part of Pheobe wanted to sink back into her hard bed, but Pheobe couldn't help it. She was much to curious to indulge that fearful part of her. She was raised by ghost stories, and just had to know if it was really just a creaky house, or something a little more interseting. So down, down, down Pheobe marched. Down into the cellar.
Everything with grey with inches of dust. The only time Pheobe had been down here, was that time she was 10. It hadn't changed a bit. She shuffled through the thick dust when she noticed a lump under the dust.
The lump groaned. It was very much alive under the dust. Very much so.