A Glimpse of Baykadia

Miles stretched out his chubby hand. It landed on the end of a red velvet arm rest. He threw his head back into the soft chair’s cushion. His blond hair clashed with the worn green fabric. A brilliant flash of lighting danced across the dark night sky. Miles shot out of his seat with his chest heaving.
"What was that!?" he said under his breath. Slowly he sat back in the well-used chair.
"Pull yourself together. You have to go back there. You have to find her." He told himself as he pounded his head with the side of his closed fist. He stopped. A noise caught his attention. It was barely audible over the sound of the raging storm. Raindrops the size of quarters pummeled the windows. Again the noise came. It almost sounded like someone was calling his name. "Where was that sound coming from?" he asked.
He moved to the edge of the deep cushion, closed his coffee brown eyes, cocked his round head toward the sound and listened. His breathing slowed he could almost make it out.
"BANG!" thunder broke his concentration. He fell from the chair onto an orange rug. Lighting lit the room as if the noon sun had risen from behind the flowery couch. Standing, he shook his head and made his way out of the room. As he crossed the threshold, he could see the dark wooden door under the stairs fighting to open. The door rattled and heaved. The dull black hinges strained to keep the door closed. The noise grew louder as he urged his feet to move. Fear pulsed through him. The door fought more and more violently the closer he got. Visions of monsters and trolls raced through his imagination. He stopped an arms length from the side of the stairs. The mumbling stopped. The door ceased its wrestling. Slowly Miles pushed his trembling arm out in front of him. He closed his eyes and let out a long deep breath. His hand found the cold black latch on the door.
"One, two, three." He counted to himself. On three his chubby thumb pressed down releasing the dark wooden door. It moaned as it swung open. All that greeted Miles was darkness. He stared wide eyed into the black straining to hear anything other than raindrops batting against the house. A rustling sound blew out of the darkness. Miles jumped back, but he wasn’t fast enough. A branch in the shape of a hand wrapped itself around his legs. He fell backwards onto the floor. Rolling onto his belly, he reached for the door jam. His fingers found what they were searching for. He pulled with all his might. Miles opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He tried again, and again nothing. His fingers white from the strain began to slip.
Closing his eyes he yelled "Parker! Help, Hurry!" finally sound. He repeated his plea. From up the stairs he could hear his older brother stumbling to the top of the stairs.
"Miles!" he yelled his brown eyes widening trying to soak in the scene. He froze. Miles’ screams brought him back. He flew down the stairs only touching every third step. As he reached the landing, he grabbed his baseball bat that was leaning against the wall.
"Parker! I can’t hold on. I’m slipping." Miles’ fingers slipped he fell to the floor. All the air burst from his body. Gasping for air, he tried to roll over onto his back.
"No!!" Parker yelled as he leapt into the air. He cocked his bat. Parker clinched his teeth and he contracted every muscle in his body as swung. He found his mark. The branch dropped Miles and quickly retreated back under the stairs.
Miles lay on his back with his hand clutching his chest. He was still trying to catch his breath. Parker dropped his bat and slid to the side of his brother.
"What was that?" he said almost to himself.
"It’s hard to explain" Miles finally caught his breath