Dear Reader,

I have been hit with a sudden bolt of inspiration for a short story. I apologize if you were reading my other, currently untitled story, which this "plot bunny" has so rudely interrupted. I'm just as annoyed by it as you are. However, I feel like this story must be put to digital code before I can continue with the other one. This story takes place in 2009 and continues in the timeline of my other Gargoyles stories. ("Adelpha" and "The Secret of Bain Felix") However, you will probably NOT need to read those stories in order to understand this one. Please forgive my flakiness. Thanks!

Allegra

Geoffry Grooms sighed inwardly as he shoved himself into a cramped, noisy cage alongside one of the more annoying men he had encountered in the past few weeks. The gray-haired, stubble-faced gentleman engaged a loud, clanging lock and pulled a chain that sounded a deafening whistle three times, then turned to give him a grim look from under his yellow helmet.

"It'll get pretty loud in here in a moment," he warned.

Grooms didn't mind the loud motor of the elevator that carried them slowly down the dark mine shaft. The overwhelming noise gave him a momentary reprieve from the senior minor's incessant chatter, and the dim, yellow light of the single light bulb above them in the darkness made the awkward and unwanted closeness between them more bearable. The rickety lift that descended into the decommissioned goldmine was probably less than half the size of even the snuggest elevator he'd ever been in before, and his guide told him that it was designed to hold six muscular, broad-shouldered mining men.

Will Davies, as he had introduced himself, had been retired for nearly ten years, ever since this particular mine had closed. For most of the time since then, he had worked part-time as a tour guide, bringing packs of scouts, school children, and adult enthusiasts inside the mine to learn about the operations and the history of their community, until the state had shut that venture down as well, stating that modern mining efforts in the area made the aging tunnels too unstable. Davies had worked the mine for forty years, as his father and grandfather had done before him, and did he had some stories! All of which, he seemed intent on imparting to the poor, unenthusiastic Grooms, a liaison from New York City, representing the interests of Xanatos Enterprises.

"Here we are!" Davies announced as he released the lock and sounded the roaring whistle again, "And here's our fuel! Do you mind helping me haul one of these, young fella?"

Grooms scowled at the smelly, grimy plastic tanks at their feet, but as his thin, elderly associate easily picked up two of them and placed them on his shoulders, he felt obliged to haul the remaining tank, down the tunnel toward a strange yellow beast of a machine that awaited them in the dim light of a single lamp, looking like some sort of unworldly monster. Davies petted and praised the ancient engine of the mechanical creature as he poured the fuel and pulled a series of cranks. He then motioned for Grooms to take a seat on the body of the monster, which he understood to be a funicular cart that would deliver them the final two miles of track to their destination.

"So," the man yelled over the fading sound of the engine behind them, "Do you hail from New York originally?"

"No," Grooms replied curtly, volunteering no further information.

"I suppose you must have some stories of your own to tell, working for a character like David Xanatos!"

Groomes sighed again. The eccentric owner of the massive, billion dollar business empire Grooms served was, for better or worse, somewhat of a celebrity in the worldwide media. Through tabloids and social media, his enemies accused him of everything from human trafficking, to human cloning, to discovering a method of reversing global warming and refusing to tell anyone about it. No doubt this bored and unsophisticated digger was hoping for some new dirt to roll around in.

"I've never met Mr. Xanatos," Grooms replied disinterestedly and Davies did nothing to disguise his disappointment.

"No?" he asked, "Well, I guess I'll never know if the stories are true or not!"

The cart came to a stop in a large, open cavern, where several men were working on reinforcing a long decommissioned shaft. Grooms introduced himself to the foreman of the operation, who was the only worker, other than Davies, who was dressed in the traditional attire of heavy canvas coveralls and illuminated hard hat. The rest of the workers wore the new exoskeletons designed by the engineers of Xanatos Enterprises.

These machines allowed the workers the strength and protection of machinery while maintaining the reason and judgment of the human component. They were still in the testing phase, and Xanatos Enterprises was partnering with a local company to use them for a small venture, before offering them for sale to large-scale commercial operations.

The foreman was quick to recap his own employer's interest in the project.

"We've made incredible progress, Mr. Grooms," the man told him emphatically, while Grooms looked on with an almost hopeful air, " We've stabilized the shaft and have already begun placing explosives for the first blasting. Our boss is enthusiastic that we will soon be uncovering the vein that was abandoned years ago when the mine was decommissioned."

"Does that mean the mine will be reopened?" Davies asked eagerly.

"Who knows?" the foreman replied with a shrug, "We knew this was down here years ago, and yet they closed it anyway. They said it wasn't lucrative anymore, but we all know the kind of ore we were hauling up every day. There was money to be made, but there must have been something big to shut the company down like that."

"There were those disappearances," Davies reminded him in a grim voice, "The boss' own step-son!"

The foreman rolled his eyes.

"Since when do gold mine owners and executives care about a couple missing men when they're making millions every week?"

"Some of the boys said they saw monsters down there," Davies recalled, "It wasn't the first time either! Strange things happened down that vein. Weird stuff no one could ever explain."

Now it was Grooms' turn to roll his eyes.

"Gentlemen, while I find your talk of quaint mining lore fascinating," he began in a tone that suggested this was anything but the truth, "My company is only interested in the function of the equipment we are providing you. I need to inspect it and interview a selection of your workers so I can make the four-hour, mountain road drive back to the airport in time to catch my flight!"

The foreman gave the condescending younger man a stern look, but nodded his agreement and turned to lead them toward the opening, when they heard a series of loud crashes, followed by a roaring echo.

"Was that a blast?!" the city dweller squeaked, losing all his arrogance at once. The two seasoned miners smirked at one another.

"No, Sonny," Davies assured him, "If it was, we wouldn't be here to talk about it!"

The dark tunnel before them was suddenly pierced but cutting beams of light, flashing erratically as several workers in exoskeletons came running through the opening, clearly terrified.

"What happened?" the foreman demanded.

"Something attacked us!" a female miner shouted in an outraged and terrified tone.

"Attacked you?" the foreman replied, "What are you talking about? Did this new-fangled equipment blow up or something?"

"It didn't blow up!" argued a man, the only one among them not wearing one of Xanatos Enterprise's machines, "Something came up behind me and grabbed me! It crushed the body of my suit and it would have killed me if I hadn't used the emergency evacuation control and ran for my life."

"Crushed it? A titanium steel body?" Grooms asked incredulously, quickly regaining his smugness.

"I saw it!" the woman added, "It was like a monster with red, glowing eyes!"

"Right," Grooms replied with a smirk, then said to the foreman, "I believe periodic drug testing was a provision of this contract?"

"My workers are not high, Mr. Grooms," the man replied in a voice that had suddenly become low and dangerous, "This business is not a game, Sir. People don't go home to their families when careless mistakes are made."

The arrogant businessman looked a bit taken aback at the older man's solemn admonishment, but he was of weak intellect and sarcasm was his sole response.

"And have you seen any glowing-eyed monsters creeping around?"

"I've seen any number of strange things down here," the man replied grimly, "Monsters among them, a time or two. Some say the darkness and strange air is what creates monsters, but that ain't the truth. It's the gold, Sir. That's what does it. Every time. Now let's go and have a look at what's happened."

The three men headed down the tunnel to the place where the workers had been drilling and laying explosives. Laying in the middle of the tunnel was the remains of one of the powerful robotic suits.

"What in the world?!" Grooms exclaimed as they examined the carnage. The suit was indeed crushed, mangled, and completely destroyed.

"The lines are all cut!" Davies exclaimed, "And look! The explosives are all gone!"

"What's this?" the foreman asked, as he reached to retrieve a flat object from the floor of the shaft.

"The engineer's laptop!" Grooms exclaimed at the sight of the mangled computer, which was required to program the blasts that would expose the next part of the tunnel, "It's been pulverized!"

"What could have done this?" Davies asked in amazement as he looked around the walls of the tunnel for a sign of what could have gone wrong.

Horrified, Grooms lifted the exoskeleton to examine the back of it.

"These look like claw marks!" he exclaimed again, "I don't believe it!"

The foreman whistled as he knelt beside him and touched the deep dents that had ripped open a steel alloy meant to withstand an accidental collapse of granite.

"What are you playing at?" Grooms suddenly demanded, taking on an angry tone, "What is this? A joke? What can leave claw marks in solid steel?"

"A monster?" the foreman replied with a raise of his eyebrow.

"A monster!" Grooms repeated mockingly, "That's just great. I'll just go back to New York and report that the equipment is working fine, except for the one suit that was eaten by a monster. That's sure to go over well. What am I supposed to tell the executives?"

"Tell them to call the big boss," Davies told him, "The way I hear it, he knows a thing or two about monsters."