The ordeal of the basement, or; Things that I am scared of

I don't know about you, but I saw a fair few American horror movies in my impressionable years, and as a result, am now terrified of my basement. Now this isn't some sort of metaphor about fear of ones inner self, or a Freudian phobia of the repression of subterreanean spaces as reminiscent of the womb, I am just plain scared of the basement. I refuse to go down there after dark, and my washing just has to deal with the fact it will be sitting damp in the machine all night.
Cos I'm completely bolloxed if anyone thinks I'm going down there.
I am not basement-phobic, its just really scary.
So I have prepared a series of photos to demonstrate how completely fucking pants-wettingly scary my basement is. (cos its not like I have a graduate degree to study for or anything...) First, you see the stairs from my room, above.

Then there is the beginning of the descent into the darkness. Out the back door of the apartment.....

Down the first level.....

Down the second level....
(Who remembers that movie Angelheart, when Mickey Rourke gets into that lift and it just keeps going down and down and down? Thats what the basement descent reminds me of, because it just keeps going!)

Finally, down to the basement level, where all the monsters live.
Theres a monstrosity of a central heating thing in the middle, that looks like some sort of futuristic cyborg octopus, and I'm sure its going to suck me up in one of its metal pipe tentacles.

Yes, that large white appliance on the right is my washing machine, and the reason I have to confront my basement fear every few days.

Lots of scary dark corners for monsters and serial killers to hide in.
Don't even get me started on the attic.

Have you even seen The Exorcist?!?!

Heres a kitten to make everything better. .

Any advice on how to make the basement any less scary? I was going to pick flowers and put them down there, but then I remembered I don't have a garden.
Perhaps I should get a priest in....