Sara approached the staircase and stood at the top, staring down into the darkness of the lower floor. She gulped and set Kevin down on the floor beside her. Her hands shook as she grabbed onto the bannister and took a careful step downward. "I wouldn't go down there if I were you."

She practically jumped out of her skin. She spun around, heart hammering in her chest. Kevin bounded down the step and nuzzled her leg. On the top of the stairs stood a tall, lanky man. He had dark hair that was carefully combed out of his face. He wore a black pea coat and black pants and shoes. He smiled at her when she turned. "Hello, Sara," he greeted her. He seemed friendly enough, but there was also something... unnerving about him. His eyes gleamed almost... red in the dark hall.

All she could do at first was stare at him until she found words. "Who... Who are you?"

His smile widened. Something about him just... reminded her of a snake and she didn't know why. "I have a lot of names, little one... But you can call me Monty."

"Where did you come from? How did you get in here? Did Molly let you in?" she asked him, still wary. Her eyes were narrowed as she watched him.

He chuckled. "Quite an inquisitive little thing, aren't you? I'm just a bystander," he explained. "A member of Faith's steadily growing audience at game night. I just want to see how this all plays out. But, I suppose I play a role as well... I mean, I am a pivotal character."

Sara ignored his curious words that sounded like breaking of the fourth wall. "What is happening?" she asked. "Do you know my father?"

Monty smiled and picked at his fingernails as he spoke. "Oh yes, I've met with him several times, actually. It's fun you should ask... As to what is happening, well, I know you're aware of your father's... recreational activities in the basement. Those who he experimented on, they aren't very happy with him. There are many spirits wandering this house, Sara—spirits that want to see harm come to your father."

She felt her heart leap into her throat. "What?" she squeaked in a small voice. "Why?"

Monty arched an eyebrow. "I know you're smarter than that, little girl."

She dropped her eyes to the floor. She had no idea what that truly meant—what lay in store for her downstairs—but she couldn't leave her father... Her mind drifted off to a distant memory of a summer day. She was in the garden looking for Kevin. Her mother, Phyllis, had followed her outside. She had asked Sara what she was doing, and the child replied that her beloved cat had gone missing after hurting his paw. They searched for a while, and then Michael came outside, carrying Kevin in his arms. There was no injury on his paw, and Sara did not remember him having a white patch on his chest, but she knew Michael had fixed him for her. Michael had hugged her and told her not to let Kevin wander off and get hurt again. He told her that her cat was perfectly fine and was healthy. Sara appreciated that. He always looked out for her—kept her safe and happy. He gave her whatever she wished for. Even if he did bad things, he was a good father.

"I have to help him," she said, more to herself than to Monty.

He looked at her, impressed. "You, an eight-year-old child, would put your life on the line for him?"

Sara nodded. "Yes." Her voice was strong—determined. She turned her back to Monty and started down the stairs. Monty watched her go, disappearing down the stairs and into the darkness. "Hmm..." he hummed to himself. "This should... be interesting."