I was finally inside the basement of the house.
First of all—it was big.
No, scratch that—it was cathedral-level big. You could fit a medium-sized depression and a small cult meeting of lolicons inside this place.
The ceiling was so high, it gave me flashbacks of my self-esteem before I became friends with Sexis.
It smelled cool too, like someone had bottled the essence of "expensive AC" and sprayed it over childhood trauma.
But then I saw them—countless shapes, covered in black cloaks.
Tall. Creepy. Silent.
Like dementors taking a nap or a group of priests waiting for their next scandal to hatch.
And just by their shape, I knew.
"You really have kids inside your basement!?" I shouted, because obviously, that's the only logical assumption in a basement.
But the nightmare was just starting.
I turned around to find Sexis—And froze.
"You grew boobs as well!?"
