The Thing at the Bottom
The Thing At The Bottom of The Stairs
Or, A Discourse On The Monstrosity of Monsters
Welcome! Nice to meet you, dear. Come in, come in, don't just stand there hovering. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable, there's plenty of room. Would you care for something to drink? No? Settled then? Good. I suppose I should just get started with the tale, then, shouldn't I?
I'll begin it in my favorite way, with the words that begin all fairy tales, though this is not exactly what you would consider to be a tale of the fairies. If you'd rather hear something about them, then perhaps I'll send you to a friend of mine, who would certainly be better able to tell you about those. This is, rather, a tale of monsters, you see. Still here? Good. Then I'll begin.
Once upon a time, when I was a younger girl, my family and I lived in an old house in the city, which, as I came to find, was quite the haunted old mansion. My parents would often walk through ghosts, with nary a bit of realization, other