She crept quietly out the back door of her apartment, immediately met by the strong odor of the mothballs that she thought she had already dealt with.
Wanting desperately to turn back, she stood at the threshold and tried to wriggle herself out of the grip of fear.
And the next few steps didn't reveal anything to give her any peace of mind. Be rational, she thought. You are not starring in a horror flick here, she reminded herself.
What kinds of good things happen in old scary basements?