Not My Problem

The moon hung low in the sky, its bottom seeming as if it may scrape the treetops if the Earth tilted just a bit.  Old Man Wayne gripped his cane in his hands, rolling it between his fingers, now wrecked from arthritis.  Perhaps now was the right time... after all these years.  After all, Wayne knew his time left in this life was short.  He put his cane to the ground and walked to the back of his house.  The storm cellar doors were visible in the moonlight.  A chain was linked through their handles, held tight by a heavy padlock.

Wayne fumbled with his keys in the dim moonlight and finally found the one for the lock.  He unlocked it and as he did it let out a rusty clunk.  He pulled away the chain and opened the doors.  The musty smell of rot and... something else wafted out.  He took a few steps and reached blindly in front of him for the lamp string.  He finally gripped it and pulled.  A dull click.  The bulb was out.  Wayne wished he'd thought to bring a flashlight as a precaution.

"Hey!"  He yelled down into the dark.  "You can go now.  You're free.  You ain't my problem anymore."  He heard a large rustle in the darkness and shuffled back up the stairs, pressing his back against the siding of the house.  Heavy feet fell on the stairs and a large snarling creature emerged into the moonlight.  It looked around a moment, breathing in the fresh air, then ran off into the surrounding forest.

"And good riddance."  Wayne said.  "God have mercy on the first soul to encounter him, but he's finally free.  And no longer any problem of mine."