The TARDIS came to a screeching halt. The Doctor was the first one to poke his head out and looked around. The two were in a storage unit, a janitorial one. The Doctor stepped out and narrowed his eyes, the unit was dark and there was no way to turn on the lights. Sherlock appeared behind him and looked around as well. "These cleaning supplies are thirty years old," Sherlock pointed at a box of detergent. It was an old brand, a popular one too, that gone into bankruptcy in the late '90s. The Doctor blinked, "Must've stockpiled them."
They continued to bump around the unit searching for the light until the Doctor came across a switch. The moment he turned it on, a dim light appeared in the center. The unit was quite dated; there was even an old radio on the desk where the janitor must've sat at during his off period. Sherlock gone over to it and flipped the switch, the radio worked but didn't pick up on any stations, static was the only thing that was produced.
"Must be tied to those recordings," the Doctor blinked. He theorized that the Compound had its own sanctioned radio station where not only did people speak to the staff, but presumably played music. If the radio didn't pick up on the station, then it meant there was no one manning the radio equipment.
"Interesting," he heard Sherlock. He glanced over to see Sherlock picking up a tape recorder, one of the few original ones to be sold on consumer markets, there was even a tape still in it. Sherlock brought it toward the desk and played the recording, it was the janitor, Thomas:
"Oi, it's going to be one of those days. They got me working longer hours, accidents happen a lot here. The money's good, but you know, I hate it here, not to say I should be thankful for the fact that I have a job, but because I'm stuck in the middle of the ocean where I can't get a beef steak with my own money. Hell, I can't even spend my own money! Sofia said that we'd have a commissary come by with surplus from the government, but it's been two months. God, I hate it down here, it's dark and depressing, I mean, Jesus how can anyone sleep in the dormitories with those… things walking around? I don't even understand why they even look like that! Guess I don't know what I'm talking about, then. Still, those things give me the willies and the scientists aren't people who are going to tell a simple janitor what's up with those things. I bet it was Seymour who said to give them those eyes. Ech, those eyes! They look so lifelike and it doesn't help that they don't move or blink at all. Ah, well, if they can kill a Cyberman, then what do I have to complain?"
"I guess not everyone knew what was going on," Sherlock summed. The Doctor nodded, "Alright, come on, I think we're in the West Wing."
"What about the TARDIS?" Sherlock questioned. The Doctor sighed, "Don't worry, if worst comes to shove I can have it come to us."
The duo slowly exited the unit and glanced around. The hall was dark, there was no light source and it was so dark that the two found that they couldn't even see their own hands. The Doctor had a clever idea; with his Sonic Screwdriver he led Sherlock through the darkened halls. The halls were rounded, had a modern look to them, and above all else, it was quiet. There was not a sound as the two walked, other than their footsteps; it felt as if they were in a movie. The duo spotted a dim blue light in the yonder. Cautiously they walked toward it to find that this part of the hall had a large tube around it, allowing viewers to glance out into the Pacific. The Doctor and Sherlock took time to peer into the outside, there was no light in either window they seen, and the darkness of the outside was only adding to the fear. The Doctor's eyes darted from corner to corner, until he swore he seen something moving. His eyes moved until he spotted a sole shadow at the bottom, moving around. The darkness made it hard for him to discern, but there was someone down there, for what reason he had no ideas. Sherlock blinked, "Who's that?"
"I don't know," the Doctor shrugged. He stopped when he saw faint light coming from the shadow as it moved toward a corner, disappearing from their sight. "Right, come on, there's probably a map somewhere," the Doctor ushered Sherlock as they continued to walk the empty halls.
They came across dated posters. Several were for career advancement, benefits, anything really. There were even advertisements for spa trips in the East Wing. "Artificial sun," the Doctor told Sherlock. "Humans can't live without the sun. It's one of those ticks you lot have, that you go a bit stir crazy without the sun."
"How would they make an artificial sun?" Sherlock questioned. The Doctor shrugged, "Not particularly hard, though granted it took years before having an artificial sun was viable. Replicating cells is easy, replicating sunlight isn't."
The large oval area with the elevators was particularly dark. Light that'd shine through the elevators was absent and the smell of salt water was prominent. The Doctor found a large map on the side of the wall from the hall they came out of. It was meant to be lit; dead florescent bulbs outlined the foggy glass. With his Sonic Screwdriver, the Doctor lit up the map; they were in the West Wing. It was a Wing where the janitorial staff resided as well as an area for a spa and a sick bay.
Sherlock glanced around the oval area, there were benches made of iron near the elevators, cold to the touch and looked to have been frequently used. The Doctor turned his head slightly, "The elevators are probably dead. Our best bet is the staircase."
While Sherlock made a copy of the map with a notepad he carried around, the Doctor downloaded a copy onto his Sonic Screwdriver. Regardless, they had two different ways of finding where to go.
Afterward, the duo began their way toward the staircase. It was wide, wider than some of the staircases that either two had seen. It was segmented with three sets of railings, allowing whoever once frequented to have a firm grasp. The red carpet that covered the stairs themselves was damp, smelt of mold, and another set of smells that neither the Doctor nor Sherlock could distinguish. It smelled metallic and sickly and as the Doctor shined his Sonic Screwdriver on the ground, there were darker patches on the stairs. The splotches varied in sizes while some went down the stairs to the bottom. It appeared that while the carpeting was cleaned at some point, it didn't get everything that was trapped.
"What is it?" Sherlock asked the Doctor as he glanced at the splotches, they looked to come from the top of the staircase, multiple sources from it stood. The Doctor shrugged, "Must've been cleaning fluid."
The duo continued to ascend the stairs until they reached the top of the staircase. They were in the West Plaza as the maps the duo had indicated. It was a large area, with several elevators and stairways to accommodate the areas. Benches lined the areas, old vending machines were on corners of the yellowed wall, the green light emitting from the Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver lit up the neon signs, advertising beers and other goods from the stores in the East Wing.
Sherlock carefully stepped around the plaza, in his mind the plaza was lit up and filled to the brim with people. Some were janitorial staff members going to their respected elevators, people heading to the spa, and the doctors and their patients heading toward the sick bay. The Doctor pulled him away from his thought to show him a sign with a woman in her early to mid-twenties, blonde hair in a tight bun, blue eyes, pink lips; she was Sofia Lamb in her younger years. Under her were texts that indicated that her research team was looking for volunteers and the lab was in the South Wing.
"So we have to get to the South Wing, then," Sherlock summed as he glanced at the Doctor. The Doctor nodded, "Right, come on, we have a long day ahead."
They both stopped when they heard a faint growl. It came from the top of the staircase that would interlink with the Main Plaza. "Hide under the benches," the Doctor instructed Sherlock as he lowered his arm, releasing the button on the Sonic Screwdriver, entrapping them in darkness. Sherlock dove under the nearest bench he memorized as the Doctor hid under the one beside.
The faint growl slowly became loud and instead of it being a growl as the Doctor and Sherlock thought, it was a moan. A sickly light slowly brightened as something slowly came down the last of the step and every time it moved, it as if the ground was shaking. It looked to be a scuba diver with the large dome helmet, the light coming from within the helmet. A loud gurgling moan emitted from the helmet as the scuba diver moved around the area.
Sherlock witnessed that one of its hands was nothing more than a drill and the other was an exposed exoskeleton with the fingers twitching. He glanced at the Doctor who also looked at the scuba diver. Sherlock followed his eyes to see that there was a symbol imprinted on the chest of the scuba diver, Beta, the Greek alphabet letter.
The moan grew louder as the scuba diver moved around, as if looking for something. When it appeared it didn't find what it was looking for, it simply went toward the sick bay, its loud thunderous stomps boomed through the West Plaza as it disappeared down the flight of stairs.
When the coast was clear, the Doctor and Sherlock slid out from under the benches with looks on their faces. "Did you see the letter on its chest?" the Doctor asked Sherlock. Sherlock nodded as he ran a hand through his hair, "I did."
"I have a feeling that Sofia had been busy these last forty years," the Doctor said grimly as he turned his head to the staircase the scuba diver came down from. "Let's see where it came from."
The Doctor pressed the button on the Sonic Screwdriver again and he led Sherlock up the staircase. Sherlock cautiously kept looking back, expecting the scuba diver to suddenly appear; he soon stopped when they reached the thirtieth step.
The Main Plaza was large, larger than the West Plaza; it had carts in areas where people once bought food, cotton candy and even corn dogs here and there, the comforts of the surface at an arm's reach for those who worked in the Compound.
Sherlock glanced around and pointed at the staircase for the South Wing. The Doctor carefully walked toward it to find that it was barricaded off, with no way to access it, and when he checked the elevator, there was no power. "Can you power it with your Sonic Screwdriver?" Sherlock asked the Doctor as they stared at the elevator. The Doctor tilted his head as he looked at the elevator and shook his head. He replied, "I can't, there's a security measure. If I try it, there's going to be alarms setting off everywhere."
"So, it can detect any foreign interference," Sherlock summed. The Doctor nodded. Sherlock blinked and rubbed his chin, pondering. "If however, it detects a familiar interference," Sherlock trailed and the Doctor finished. "We can get the elevator up and ready," the Doctor turned around.
"We'll have to go to the North Wing," Sherlock glanced at the map he drew. The Doctor nodded, "Right. Keep your eyes peeled for anything."
As they neared the staircase for the North Wing, they noticed graffiti drawn on the walls. The graffiti was old as the Doctor noted and it looked to be a warning.
Hide in the dark!
They can't find you if you hide in the dark!
"Who could've it been?" Sherlock wondered as he looked at the graffiti. The Doctor studied it and shrugged. It was made with spray paint, the color since faded but looked like it might've been blue at one point. Sherlock then said, "Looks like there's more than one of those things."
"Then we'll have to watch our steps," the Doctor began to walk down the staircase with Sherlock following behind.