Twisted Warren
Too much had happened in this place, between the time Murkoff had lost control, and the MHS failed to regain control. The patients had gotten free and had ample time on their hands to undertake all manner of hobbies.
I wasn't certain what to make of the large hole chiseled through three feet of solid cement, and rebar. Given there's not a lot to do around this place but come up with creative ways to get around, I gave this one a seven out of ten. I doubted that big ugly fucker would have been amused by a commission for big fuckin holes, he seemed dedicated to his current task of decapitating the former law. I couldn't envision the inmates having the tools for this sort of work, and then using them correctly to remove the cement, but they were just insane, not stupid. There was a difference.
The problem was they were not stupid.
To satisfy my lethal curiosity, I did return to the other side of where I had dropped down, to see if the egress guy was still lurking. I didn't want someone following me, I'd rather know at this point and try to lose them than get a nasty surprise in a dark cramped hole.
There was only a small room, and a door. I tried the handle confirming it was locked, but perhaps earlier it was open and the patient decided to lock it. Didn't matter, my path was charted out. It must've led into a lavatory, or female wash room, there were hand dryers on the wall, a mattress flung on its side, and the more important detail. Sinks.
I tried the dial on one and received a fresh flow of water, its color I couldn't tell due to the night vision but it looked clean and free of sediment. After giving my perimeter a quick look I leaned under the tap and tasted it, first rinsing my mouth out of the reek and copper. The water had a strong metallic quality, I wasn't sure if I should drink it, much as I was advised not to drink the water when visiting another country, but I was dehydrated. I reasoned with myself the lines couldn't all be compromised, and drank just enough to quench my thirst.
There was also the issue of my bloody camera, and my backside, but I felt my jacket was a lost cause and it was cold. In the dark I flushed water on my sleeve and used it to carefully dab the side of the camera until it felt like much of the stickiness was removed. I didn't expect to do a perfect job in the solid black. I also took the time to rinse the blood from my scalp and the back of my leg, then flushed my tender brow.
I felt renewed, not meeting ready but stable enough on my feet to carry me onward. I returned to the other side, squelching over the sticky puddle of blood back to the warrens entrance.
Below looked like an access space, for repairs or maintenance on broken pipes that might be reached through the basement. It might've been installed in the past century if this place was as old as I suspected.
The hole wasn't deep, but there was a passage dug out in the softer earth beneath the crawl space. A small draft crept over my ankles, warmer air spilling into the cool shower. The thick reek of natural gas coupled with moist earth reached my nose as I crouched down and used the night vision to navigate, I really didn't need to get lost under this place.
Though the path seemed straightforward, I was fully aware of how easy it was to get turned around in a short section of black crawlspace. A few of the Outdoor Adventurer columns warned of how inexperienced cavers could get lost in less than twenty feet of cave. One story mentioned a specific case in which a cavern had only a few extending tunnels, but the individuals involved thought only to bring one light source plus their cell phones. As with any adventure destined to fail, the torch had a mishap and the cavers with their cell phones couldn't distinguish between the details of the cave through the poor light source, nor could they call for help. Many would scratch their heads or joke towards their expense, how can you get lost in such a small cave? Few have ever experienced the total silence, the oppressive dark, and the disorientation that comes with confusion, then panic. How easy doubt sets in and turns your instincts against you.
This is why they, like many, didn't live to learn from their error.
Even a few feet into this passage, I could no longer see the light. Not at all. Thick pipes ran in orderly groups into the dark depths, railways of electrical input. My path was carved around a cement pillar, going deeper. My heart thudded harder against my ribs filling my head with a dull pulse of pain. How deep did this go? Would I be able to turn back if I lost my way? I paused to listen in the crushing black, the total silence but for the thunder of my heart and my heavy breath. I had my reservations for traveling deeper, I was terribly fucking lost running everywhere through the Asylums endless maze of halls, but this was fifteen times worse. This was my grave.
I pressed on with no where else to look back on, I fortified my resolve to keep calm and find a way out. There was nothing that could hurt me here, I could hear nothing, no shrieking, no pleas for mercy. Dead silence.
The warmer air would've been a nice change of pace compared to the chilly asylum, but the reek of sludge and compost did not set me to ease. Blood was, as always, my guide through this twisting nightmare. Across the upper portion of the tunnel was a set of pipes, I had to stretch out and slip under them to get through. It opened up a bit and I could stand, more pipes, for gas or water.
As I moved forward it looked like my path came to an end, but the earth shifted under my feet. Looking down, I found a deep hole which I had nearly stumbled into. I dropped down, making sure to evade the bricks on the one side. The stench and heat was in full force at this point and I turned, locating where the bricks had been torn out of a wall.
The sewers beneath the asylum were huge, possibly to redirect the flow of water and alleviate erosion. It wasn't called Mount Massive for the jollies of it. I glanced beyond the ruptured wall, crinkling my nose at the odor. To my right was a light source, but my left was difficult to make out even with the NV. Moisture in the air interfered with the feed.
Satisfied that the path was free of wavering figures, I sloshed into the filthy water of the drainage flow trying not to think about what might be floating in it. The dark tunnel twisted around and after a few feet I could make out the collection of fallen boulders and earth. A cave in, a weakness of some sort in the foundation. This made me uneasy, the tunnels could be subjected to collapse while I was down here, especially with the heavy rainstorm currently hammering the mountain. I didn't bother to get closer should there be an opening I could squeeze through, it wasn't worth it.
The lit tunnel offered two paths, I proceeded through the light, and presumably the path the patients had taken when they came down here. At least I knew there must be a way out, unless they came down here and backtracked out. I doubted that. This was where the blood led me.
No matter how many times I repeated that phrase in my head, it always sounded wrong and insane.
A barricade for flotsam shed some perception on the water levels of these tunnels, if there was a good flood it could reach my hip. I imagined the water was lower but even now the flow rolled over my ankles, I could only be thankful the water temper was tolerable or I'd succumb to hypothermia. The barrier offered little trouble, but a sharp pain in my side. Nice thing, I was growing accustomed to the jolts of pain. Just had to avoid getting thrown out of windows, or kicked in the chest.
An intersecting tunnel came into view, but it was easy to decide which way from here with no detours. My right was completely packed by another cave in, giving me some mild grief if that was my way out. The ruble didn't look fresh but I was no expert on collapses.
The right looked like another dead end from a distance, but as I moved closer I could see the small drainage tunnel in the shallow ditch was open. A strong source of light soaked through a large grate overhead, offered by the upper floors perhaps, I couldn't tell. I stood off to the side of the gaping drain to look up, but the light from above was too bright to view past and make out its origins. I thought I heard someone screaming, it could've been my imagination. The echoing chatter of water spilled along the cobblestone bricks into the ditch below at a high frequency.
As I looked down, I thought I saw a body slumped by a grated drain. It was a body, I crept in close to examine him through the NV feed. He didn't look like one of the patients that had come down earlier, a small relief. He had been dead for some time, his pants and the lower area of his body had absorbed so much water he almost looked fluffy, but it was only skin dissolved and flaking away. I didn't need that thought on my mind, though I had already presumed I would find more bodies in the sewer, I didn't need to see them immediately. What a naïve hope that was.
Returning to my task at hand, I grimaced as I couched low and scooted along the water into the small tunnel. The humid stench was overpowering and the cramped space of the drain had me nearly knelt in the foul water, but I managed to only submerge one knee as I felt along. I tried to bury my face in my collar and hold the camera up so I could see where I was going and not put my knee into something unpleasant. Blood was one thing, it was tolerable.
I tried to keep my hand along the 'dryer' side of the wall, where the tunnel sloped down but wasn't in the water. The cuts along the back of my leg stung like hell and I tried not to envision what sort of bacterial infections I'd come away with. A piece of paper from something got caught on my foot, but I wouldn't mess with that until I could stand. The tunnel ended and I assured myself there was nothing here with me poised just beside the opening to lop my head off, before I shuffled out and stood.
Much of the same met me, no light and pipes suspended along the roof of the tunnel. As I stared through the quivering visor I realized for the first time, I was shaken all over. Not just mild tremors, I could literally not hold myself still as I inspected the open channel over. I wasn't cold, in fact a thin layer of sweat had spread under my coat causing it to stick against my shirt.
I was terrified.
Despite my small reprieve of isolation I was frightened, my nerves frayed. Where was I going? How did I get out of here? What if there was no way out? What if this was where I was meant to die?
Get ahold of yourself. I stepped back and leaned beside the wall and touched the cool brick, feeling the vibrations of the Asylum against my palm. Not gonna die here. I would get out. I would get out with the evidence and reveal this heinous mess to everyone.
I took a small breath through my mouth and stared at the long corridor ahead. I wanted to believe that. I wanted to make that the truth so bad.
The water sloshed over my shoes, and I flipped off the remains of that sheet of paper–
Something flittered into sight ahead. I barely turned my camera up, night vision and everything I could see perfectly, and something glided by in the intersecting tunnel. Looked black, like a shadow, but it was in direct light. Was something there?
I took a few steps back to the tunnel and perched down, checking on my camera. Features, playback, last five minutes. I realized in reviewing the footage that I was breathing hard, I still was. Didn't care.
I paused the feed and stared at what was caught, it wasn't very clear. Just a black shape, it had passed in barely a second and looked almost transparent. It wasn't in the light as I had imagined, the NV had caught it in the dark of the intersecting tunnel. Maybe it was a residual image, the camera had color mishaps since I flew out that window. But…it looked suspended, a good six feet above the ground.
I took a deep breath through my mouth and exhaled. Later I would review the evidence with better equipment, image quality enhancements. And I'd make copies of everything.
First, I had to get out of here. And the only route open to me was ahead, where that shadow was.
I exercised extreme caution as I proceeded forward, listening every few steps for sounds or stopping when I thought I heard something. Carefully I picked my way along the tunnel with my eyes fixed ahead, the camera never picked up another image.
To my right where it must have gone, was a barricade or gap for high water levels. I decided to avoid that path and check elsewhere, give whatever was there now a chance to clear out.
The left side extended a distance, all manner of trash was down here from dissolving files to cardboard boxes. The path took a right path followed brick and on the left a drainage tunnel, grated up. The path took a right and around the corner a light source, and possibly a way out.
I was disappointed to discover it wasn't to be. This was an exit, perhaps some time before, but the ladder set here was completely destroyed. On the floor beneath lay the remains of a human, entrails, rotted limbs, and the ladder. I attempted to lift it up but it was too short. Even pushing some cardboard boxes over helped in no way, they were too soggy from sitting in the wet air. The upper one cracked and folders scattered, patient letters. I'm guessing Murkoff never sent these to the families, and probably forged return notes. A few were stuffed into a file, which I took interest in
"(Found scrawled in pencil on the back of an admittance form. Handwritting matches samples from patient "Father" MARTIN ARCHIMBAUD.)
This God is real. What we've mistaken so long for ghosts, spirits, madness. We were only willfully ignorant. The scales on Saul's eyes were fear, and when you see beyond it, you truly see. This is the gift of the Walrider. The Gospel of Sand. The greatest sin in the world is willful ignorance of God. To receive a revelation and not spread it to the waiting flock. This place... To stand in the way of salvation is a sin for which there is no punishment too great'."
For some reason this note caused goosebumps to crawl up my skin. My mind brought back images of the MHS team, throttled and dragged away. What had I seen? What did Father Martin ask? "Will you see? Can you?" I still didn't understand, but I felt closer to understanding these mysteries through these sloppy scribbles. Something about these words felt more than deranged delusions. There was a truth.
I left the file and moved around the opposite side of the tunnel, lowering the camera where the lamps overhead still functioned casting deep yellow globs of light to spread over the moist stone. Save batteries, live longer.
A soft tinkling…turned into an aggressive rattle as I passed under a large pipe. I tried to find the source, but it sounded as though it were coming from within the pipe itself. I raised my camera though there was nothing to record, but that sound was eerie, I could see nothing to generate that sort of sound. Like pouring pellets into a bebe rifle.
I left that place and quickly returned to what must have been my route, where the shape had gone? I don't know at this point. Peering through the tight gap I could make note of nothing threatening or otherwise, despite the distance I could tell there were areas where danger could lurk. My progress so far had been quiet.
The barricade was tight, difficult even for me to get through. I grunted as it rubbed on my bad side but I made it. I'm sure there were hundreds of those down here.
The sewer opened up into another tunnel, a huge drainage gutter sat a few feet ahead with a grate over it. To the right was a ladder swallowed up in a flood of murky water with a plaque reading Lower Junction
Fuck that. I'm trying to get out of this place.
A large pipe directed down into the lower area was clearly labeled 'Female ward,' and across from it an identical pipe with the faded words 'Prison ward.' More the reason not to go THAT way. I continued to where some crates had been abandoned, probably filled with replacement parts or materials for the plumbing. The asylum was nearly a city all in itself and required routine maintenance.
This made sense, they had a lot of people here on residence doing the experiments. Probably the higher security clearance guys never went out on a sunny day, couldn't risk them getting hurt or lost.
A loud thud echoed through the tunnel, I stopped near the crates and watched as a shape dropped down at the other end. I stepped back and knelt behind them as he marched forward, struggling to breathe as he always did after the heavy exercise of killing.
The big ugly fucker just wouldn't give it a rest! What was his obsession? Did he just follow me wherever he thought I was, or was it just chance? Maybe he was following the patients, and somehow I was shepherd in with the flock. Didn't change matters, he was here now for whatever reason. Damnit.
He moved towards the middle of the corridor and paused, glanced around as his breathing calmed. Now that I saw him clearly in the light, I could make out details I hadn't been able to pick out on when he threw me out a window.
No. I will never let that go.
His face was indeed mutilated, by himself reports said. I doubt he had sharp items while institutionalized. Was it from the treatment he became so large? Or just bad cardio, the guy ran like a horse. The report also stated he had modified restraints to conform his massive size, and by modified they meant huge chains which he dragged around on his legs and arms. The ones wrapped about his wrists appeared to have restricted his blood flow, I couldn't tell from the distance if his hands still worked, they looked pale and skeletal.
Chris turned and began down a path on my right. I listened to the sound of his chains as they grew soft and distant, with his heavy huffing. At this point I wasn't sure where to go, if I used my camera and zoomed, I could see to the end where he plopped down was grated. One of the tunnels might lead somewhere, someplace where I could climb out of this sewer. This option was more favorably than sitting here waiting for him to find me while I was indecisive about where to go.
I took hesitant steps forward, listening. The sounds bounced around the walls, but I only heard the soft swish of water around my shoes. He entered a tunnel further away on the left, as I moved it I could make out a dark entrance not far from my position on the right.
The tunnel was well lit, it set my nerves to ease but a coil of anxiousness knotted in my throat as I felt exposed. I gave a small whimper unintentionally as I sprang over a flotsam guard when I twisted the wrong way, and I stopped to listen for a few seconds to assure the bug fucker hadn't heard that. As I resumed, the tunnel took a right into shadows and a cool draft, at the end I found a few planks of plywood and another grate drain. And an open door brimming with light.
The room had little to offer. Some shelves stacked with paints and boxes, a few batteries that I could use, lockers, and a large pipe with a valve labeled Prison drain
Apparently I was going into the Lower Junction.
I shut the door behind me and griped the valve tightly and turned. Or tried. My arm ached and my ribs just couldn't take it, a hot streak of pain pulsed in my side. I stepped back and frowned at the valve. Maybe I could trick Chris into turning it, or rig him up to it in some elaborate way.
Or I could stop being a pussy and turn that valve?
I took a few shallow breaths and steeled myself. I was not halfway done with this place, and it wasn't done with me. If I was going to survive this, I would endure a lot more than some cheap shots and…
Crashing out a few windows.
I gripped the valve and braced myself, ignoring the throbbing or the red in my vision. It would turn or so help me.
The valve gave in and wrenched. I turned until it was all the way open, or what I presumed to be open. I panted a bit as I turned and left the room.
Nothing. That was nothing. I could turn valves all day. The pain would subside soon, and I could forget it in favor of more compelling matters.
In the dark tunnel I heard chains drag, and a voice mutter. Two ways to spell dead. Without a thought I pivoted and returned to the room, shutting the door behind me. I stood waiting for a short while before I saw the knob twist. My immediate instinct told me hide in the lockers, but the door was already opening and I was too far to get one open and stuff myself within. I had already moved to the other side, where there was a large space behind the shelves where the light fell short. I squatted in the furthest corner and watched as Chris entered.
He pushed the door open fully and stepped inside checking on the lockers. Yes, they were very lovely. He must not have known I was here, he didn't bother opening a one. Then, he turned looking at the shelves where I was hiding. I held my breath and stared at him, directly at him. I thought we made eye contact and my heart stopped, but the big fucker turned smoothly and left the room.
Even when I was certain he was well gone, I couldn't move. It felt like my body was frozen. It took some effort but I managed to adjust my grip on the camera, then raise my arms and took a breath, then another. I felt my mind begin to clear and the images replayed in my mind, Chris turning and his murky eyes dead on me. In reflex I shut my own eyes and listened to the sounds of the sewer, soft hissing in pipes, water trickling down ancient mortar. The tremors were back in full force, but I doubt they ever truly left me. I only forgot they were there.
In some time I had coaxed myself enough to stand and move towards the open door, I wobbled on my feet and caught the frame before I could go charging out to make a thunderous descent on the slick plywood.
The dark was my only ally.
I pushed myself off the doorframe and ventured into the tunnel, jumping at every little sound. The drip of water was incessant, nerve wrecking. I couldn't see where he had gone from the opening of the tunnel, I stood waiting for some sign. The idea that he might've left this area by some way was on my thoughts, but I knew better. If he found a way out, I'd have a way out. But he would exhaust his search first and that could take hours.
There were two large pipes leading into the lower junction, I already drained one. The female drain was located on the left side of the tunnel, the pipe must've run that way.
While the coast was clear, I went ahead to the backside of the tunnel where the big fucker had initially entered from. Maybe there was a way out I missed, a break in the grate.
Another dead end. A dead guard, crumpled and broken, it looked like his legs had been twisted off and the only thing keeping them attached were his blood drenched pants. I spun about when I picked up on the big fuckers approach, and ducked down behind the crates pressing myself into the edge where they met with the curved wall of the tunnel. He was getting closer.
For a tense moment it sounded like he was right on the other side of the crate. My only option was to hold still and pretend I wasn't there. The chains clinked as he moved and sniffed the air, I imagine this smell didn't faze him a whole lot. I was focused on the sleeve over my arm as I held perfectly still, studying the different colors and stains it had acquired.
"Scout the perimeter, then isolate the target."
Eventually he continued on his way, his footfalls and muttering getting faint. I waited a moment certain he took the left tunnel, towards the prison ward. Of any tunnel, I just wanted to relocate and find a better vantage point. Slowly I stood up, and there he was no more than fifteen feet away.
Chris bellowed something unintelligible and charged, sounded like "There you argh!" I bolted, hitting the edge of the wall with my arm and skimmed off heading to the other side of the tunnel. Had to find a place to hide, needed somewhere I can duck into. He was screaming something after me, it was hard to tell between the splashing water and his dragging chains.
I vaulted over a drain guard and took a sharp left, into the dark. No place to duck into, only a few alcoves that heightened my hopes only to crush them. I slowed to toggle the NV and not drop the camera, he was nearly at my back when I picked up pace. I nearly missed the sharp turn to the right, I stumbled when I stepped on a greasy cardboard box but managed to stay upright. Ahead was light, revealing another cave in, but it looked like there was an opening I could squeeze through. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but standing around debating wouldn't improve my health either.
The boulders and brick felt sturdy enough as I crammed myself between them, had to get deeper or the big fucker would drag me out. Or rip my arm off in the process.
"Get out 'ere!" Chris was trying to dig me out as I crammed my body deeper. He could topple the mound onto himself for all I cared.
As it was, I was nearly trapped in this alcove. But with a firm shove I dislodged some rock at my feet and was able to slip down and crawl out. It looked like the tunnel did continue down this way, but the cave in extended to that area and effectively blocked this path.
A bent door was lodged in the brick wall a few feet ahead, ripped off the lock by a force of science I didn't wish to meet. The plaque beside it read 'Female drain.' I pushed the door in and peered inside. There wasn't much to note, the room was small and there was no place to hide. A shelf held a few of the paints, and a few boxes had been abandoned here.
I stepped across to the valve and braced myself before attempting to turn it. I coughed a bit as my side tingled, but managed to get the handle to turn on my first try. Small achievements were possible, now if I was able to get out of here.
I couldn't hear him working to dig me out from the other side, or his heavy breathing. He knew I was here and had no place else to go, it was likely he was camped on the other side waiting for me to emerge. He was former military, he could afford to wait hours if necessary without losing focus. If it came down to it, I could dodge him. Or try, it worked but I had a sick feeling he'd remember that trick.
The rocks hadn't shifted at all, I was able to get through with little effort. I listened when nearly clear but picked up on nothing, only the constant drum of water running from the upper grates, and my own breathing. The tunnel was large enough I could get around him if I timed it just right, but I didn't care to test my reflexes against the big fuckers. He was capable of nasty surprises, and the drain gutter was slick and unreliable.
I moved from the narrow space and took in a deep breath, then began to walk along the side of the drainage gutter where the water rolled down. It was impossible to eliminate my movement completely, but I would hear him before he heard me. I raised the camera for the night vision, but the power was getting low. I paused on the corner checking for the clear before I pulled out the dead battery and put in a fresh one.
The sound of churning water caught up to me. I didn't pause as I quickly felt for the slot, and put in the battery before I turned to make a slow retreat. There wouldn't be time to crawl in the gap, especially once I hit the light. I'd need to fake him out. For a moment I thought I had gained some distance, the sound of his steps quieted.
Then I heard the rapid approach of chains. "Little pig…."
I sprint the last stretch to my safety, but never made it. A strangled yelp slipped from me as the back of my collar was snared, I clutched the camera to my stomach as he lifted me off my feet and flung me to the side of the channels drain.
"Just lay there." He stepped over me as I was trying to recover. Had to keep the camera out of the water, without it I was as good as dead! I kicked at the slick bricks, I was dead anyway if he got his hands around my throat. When I twisted my head to see where I was going, I spotted an overlooked tunnel that had a shattered grate. A space Chris couldn't fit.
I kicked at his ankles, throwing myself through the small passage. Chris was still struggling to grip my slick shoes as I clambered inside thrashing in the shallow water until I was nearly soaked, but always making sure I was holding the camera away from the water. I didn't stop there, I flipped over and kept going when I saw that the other side was open and waiting.
With a roar of outrage Chris stalked off, to head me off. He had speed, I was severely limited as I struggled to move without knocking myself unconscious.
I cleared the other side and lunged to my feet, as I heard the water torn apart by his strides not far from my right. I hurtled over the dam and ran, relying completely on the effectiveness of the pipes and the factor that they had finished draining.
"Outer perimeter breached!" A crate flew by my head and shattered on the wall, I didn't hesitate in my race. Couldn't dwell on the effectiveness of his aim either, I just needed to reach that ladder. I shoved the camera into its hoister and practically dove down the ladder as the big fucker caught up to me. "Don't you hear it?"
I glanced up at his fuck grated face, in time to cringe against the ladder when he dropped a crate. It crashed against the sides splinting in two, a piece hitting my shoulder but I barely felt it. I continued down the ladder two and three steps, until I hit the bottom and stumbled away blindly in the dark.
Another crate fell smashing against the floor, the reverberation so close and sudden I felt my head spin. I couldn't see it until I had the NV active and took the time to give the soggy corridor a quick glance. From the ladder I could still hear Chris, snarling at my escape. I'm not sure why he didn't pursue me, it didn't seem impossible. I gave up and accept these matters, and struggled to understand where I was now.
I took a few breathes, wincing at the stale sewage and raw metallic scent. Not far from where I stood was another body of a patient, grotesquely bloated from being in the water for so long. My stomach turned at the soured reek disturbed by the drainage. This place just got better and better.
The heavy sounds of fresh drainage and falling water was tripled here. In the pipes hung algae or liquefied rubbish, I couldn't discern. I only avoided it as I renewed my search, though it didn't matter at this point, I was thoroughly soaked from my fall. I suppose the red stains in my coat had either diluted or washed out completely, and yet I was more of a mess than before. No surprise.
My path was literally straight forward, but I took it slow. I could easily get turned around or something might've crawled down here. I doubted it, as everything in here seemed to be in the advance stages of rot from the recent flood, but this place was full of unpleasant surprises that made you regret letting your guard down.
Much of them didn't make any sense either. I mulled over the thought of what this place might've been like if they didn't use an asylum and crazy people for the experiments.
I took note of a thick pipe overhead which followed the same route open to me. It didn't have access through walls that had the small grated tunnels, but it gave me a direction. I followed it around a sharp corner, and above was another bloated body, the skin around his bare arms slipping off his skeleton, without the water to cushion the buoyancy. I made sure not to step directly under him, as I continued through the sewer. A few crates bobbed in the water as I moved by, a few were marked with Murkoff's faded logo.
More left over plywood, maybe used to board up areas down here where the scientist made their last stand. Maybe a few of them came down here to shelter from the patients, but as of yet I had seen no evidence of this. The wood gave me little trouble, stiff but soggy from its prolonged aquatic existence. Above the pipe made a sharp turn and ended its path at a connecting pipe parallel with the wall. I retreated as a sharp blast of hot steam shot out. Damn pipes were now against me.
I skipped over another broken barrier of wood and boxes scattered in the drainage gutter, before finally coming to a ladder, and my escape. Given, the big fucker hadn't beaten me here somehow and was waiting above for me to poke my head out of the warren. At least there was light above.
As I made my gradual progress up the tall ladder, I occasionally glanced up to my destination. I tried to keep my steps soft, but someone had heard me. They popped their head over the opening from above, curious to who was coming up.
I stopped debating what that might've been. Too normal to be Chris Walker, but all patients were insane murders at this point. A little slower I renewed my climb, unable to hear what the variant above might be planning. It was likely he couldn't see anyone down in the dark depths, but he did hear me. He knew someone was coming.
I tightened my grip on the bars when I peered just over the edge, checking around as much as I could for the person. I was relieved to find myself alone, but I thought I heard voices echoing in the distance. Set to ease but still wary I climbed up onto the grate and kept low, I was certain they coming from somewhere….
"No. I can hear it!" There was a large grate in a tunnel to my left, that the voices echoed down. Did they mean me?
"Somebody—"
"The Walrider!" Guess not. I pulled myself up a little more as shrieks splint the calm, I hung back as a sound came to me similar to crashing water, and a low rumbling. Not rumbling, was it trickling? Or a hissing, as something caught in the air and lashed out. I winced as the howls began.
The voices intensified, as people somewhere shrieked with wild release. I couldn't place what I was hearing, a lifting swell of agony and terror as the multitude came to a crescendo, cracks and tears of bone and flesh and crushed windpipes catching voices midway through their final throes. Somewhere, not far from where I was, people were slaughtered by something they had warned me about.
It couldn't be. The Walrider was a myth, it couldn't exist.
Eventually the anguished cries fell silent, as did the sounds of what had enacted its punishment.