Laura Benedict

We had a marvelously terrifying basement in our house in Western Virginia, a perfect setting for a Halloween party. The room at the bottom of the kitchen stairs was unsettling enough: a blocked-off fireplace, peeling vinyl flooring with a slick, unearthly sheen, flimsy paneling that hinted at having been hastily installed to hide bloodstains on the walls. It was damp. Always cold. The adjacent laundry room had spider-filled, broken cabinets, a cracked concrete floor, and an open closet which still held the dusty hunting clothes of a previous occupant. But the third and fourth rooms truly completed the Silence of…