The Black

I am walking through the dark tunnel below the old, supposedly haunted house. My God, is it ever nerve wracking. The pungent smell of must permeates my nasal cavity. I can't see anything due to the blackness, the evil, piercing black. Even my own hand, only an inch or so from my face, is unseen, shrouded in darkness. I begin hearing a strange rustling sound behind me. I shrug it off. Again I hear it, this time followed by whispers, sounds of talking, and even laughter. "It's only my imagination," I say. Slowly the sounds become louder, and I turn just in time to see the blood red eyes staring at me through the black.