This is a work of fiction.
My eyes fly open.
Thudda chugga whoosh.
I sit up on the couch and look around, but I can’t see anything.
Chugga whoosh thud!
What’s going on?
I grope for the end table.
Where is my phone?
Is there a burglar in here?
I touch the rubber case my phone is in and promptly knock it off the table.
It lands somewhere to my left.
What is that sound?
I reach for the end table, more carefully this time, and find the lamp. I press the switch, but no light comes on.
My heart starts to pound.
The burglar must have cut the power.
Chugga chugga thudda whoosh.
I need to warn the quadruplets and their parents, but where are they?
If I call out, the burglar might hear me and come and kill me.
I listen to the sounds, trying to locate them.
For a few seconds, I don’t hear anything, then: thudda chugga chugga whoosh.
The sounds are coming from below.
But that doesn’t make any sense. I’m in the basement.
It can’t be a burglar, but what is it?
Is the house settling or is there something under me?
Maybe there are gas pockets or something.
But how can gas burst out of a solid floor without sending concrete flying and causing more than just some odd sounds?
Maybe it’s something in the pipes.
Why doesn’t the light work?
Maybe the electricity shorted out when a pipe burst, but it doesn’t sound like water.
Thud! Chugga chugga chugga whoosh.
Maybe their furnace is under the basement.
But it’s August, and why would it be on?
This all makes no sense.
Thudda chugga thudda chugga whoosh!