Once upon a time, in a world where Earth’s inhabitants had taken refuge underground, a remarkable civilization thrived. They had built a vast network of interconnected levels, each serving a specific purpose. The surface of the Earth had become inhospitable, so the people had no choice but to adapt and create their own subterranean sanctuary.

In this underground world, the lower levels were dedicated to industrial activities, housing factories, workshops, and power generators that kept the entire civilization running smoothly. The upper levels, on the other hand, were reserved for residential areas, parks, and communal spaces, allowing the inhabitants to lead fulfilling lives.

A young and adventurous character named Maya, who had spent her whole life on the lower levels. She had heard stories of the wonders and beauty of the upper levels, but had never had the chance to visit them. The journey between the lower and upper levels was considered a monumental undertaking, as it involved traversing multiple levels, braving treacherous tunnels, and facing various challenges.

Determined to explore the world above, Maya embarked on a perilous quest to reach the upper levels. She gathered supplies, studied ancient maps, and sought advice from experienced travelers. With her mind filled with curiosity and excitement, she set off on her journey.

As Maya ascended through the lower levels, she encountered fellow inhabitants who had never ventured beyond their comfort zones. They warned her of the dangers that lay ahead, but Maya’s determination remained unyielding. She persevered, overcoming obstacles, and making new allies along the way.

With each level she ascended, Maya noticed a gradual transformation in her surroundings. The industrial noises grew faint, replaced by the harmonious sounds of nature and laughter. The air became fresher, and natural light filtered through small cracks in the cavernous ceilings.

Maya marveled at the open skies above and the unobstructed view of the horizon. She explored the upper levels, meeting people who had never imagined an existence beneath the ground. Maya shared stories of her underground home, captivated by their amazement and eagerness to learn.

Over time, Maya became a bridge between the two worlds, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the unique lives led on each level. She organized exchanges, enabling inhabitants from both realms to experience the wonders they had only heard about. The once-distant societies began to intertwine, enriching the lives of all who dwelled in this underground haven.

Everyone wonders what would happen to humanity if the world was damaged beyond repair. Well, I can tell you, we went underground. I know, you were expecting something like Wall-E where we went into space or something like ‘2012’ where we build massive arks. NOPE. We ran and hid.

You’re probably racking your brain trying to figure out what caused humanity, the beings at the top of the food chain, to resort to living underground. Simple. Nuclear fallout. Tensions rose so much between countries because of different ideologies, ways of handling things such as climate change, borders, territorial beliefs such as the Russian and Ukrainian war.

Ironically, the underground bunker that could save the majority of humanity was in Russia, the largest country in the world and one of the most volatile. It’s a bunker that stretches down into the earths crust deep enough the house multiple countries worth of people. However, like the social pyramid in this bunker is flipped. The poorest countries are at the top, closer to the radiation and whatever lives out there, and the richer and more powerful nations are far deeper within the bunker, far away from the radiation with far more resources.

Immigration is far more difficult in this underground human new hive, as there are far stricter regulations to get into the richer countries. Not to mention the armed guards at the gates of entry. I’m in the British level which is favourable for my survival, and it also allows me easier access to other levels, especially the poorer levels. However, each level has its own dangers. The richer levels take every precaution to make sure your worthy of entering, they check your credentials, paper work, family history, search your person. Inversely, the poorer levels don’t check much, they check your passport and if your from a richer level, they give you a purple dot of ink on the back of your hand, this is where things get tricky.

The majority of the poorer levels hold a great deal of resentment towards the richer levels due to their lack of resources and their increased proximity to the harmful radiation of the outside world, therefore if you’re seen with the purple dot on yourself, you’re liable to be stopped by people and asked for money or even robbed and beaten up.

This is why most people stick to their own levels unless it’s for work. Of course certain jobs require immediate access to different levels, such as the sentries who patrol the richer levels, constantly on the look out for any poor people who may have slipped through the gates and are hiding in the rich levels. Another job that gives an increased level of diplomatic clearance is the role of surveyor, who wear protective suits and venture up onto the earths surface and survey the damage and danger of the place we once called home.

We’ve been like this for centuries, constantly moving between levels, building some semblance of order and justice, wondering when and if the surface will ever be hospitable to humans again. You thought 2020 was bad, try living in 2620. It’s on another level.

Underground Lost and found Travel round Upside down

Flying high Give it a try Don’t know why Traveler’s cry

Train or bus What about us Let’s not discuss Best to just trust

Walk this way Come what may Swing and sway Gone’s the day Tessa🦋

When I was growing up, and vehicles were still in use, my parents used to take us on road trips instead of flights because it saved our family money. We used to joke as a society about how dads were intent on stopping as little as possible, despite trips over multiple days. My brothers and I learned to piss in plastic bottles, which was easy having the pieces we had… but dad wasn’t safe when we needed to go #2. My mom always made us uncomfortable by referring to it as “prairie dogging” - your business is about to burst right out of your pants, and it’s peeking in and out. I always thought that phrase was disgusting, but now it’s one of the remaining funny memories I have of her.

And yet, here I am on a daily basis, performing prairie dog duty. My official title is “Meteorologist/Entertainer”, but all I am doing is popping my head to the surface, seeing if it’s even possible to roam above ground, and telling the town of my findings.

I’m one of the oldest people down here, I never thought I’d live long enough to be the old man that everyone considers wise, and yet, it feels like the entire town comes to hear my stories.

I sat around and watched tv and played video games my entire life up until the sun got too hot, and now that I’m the only remaining person in my age group, no one knows that my stories are really just retellings, humorous Cliff Notes of my favorite movies and tv shows growing up.

So just to recap, by morning I go outside, slither down to 3rd floor in those annoying fucking crawl spaces near the cafeteria, say “shits hot yo, probably just dig farther west towards Colorado for the day”, and by night I spill the details of my latest novel, Breaking Bad after a nice long jerking and nap session.

These idiots really don’t know how the weather works. The clouds could be fully covering the sky, it’s only 95 degrees outside, and they still say it’s too hot.

It hasn’t been that cold in a while up there. The days have been so hot that the others as well-off as me have regretted their land purchases directly underground, just under the surface. Places that we haven’t secured with foundation are collapsing every time that the boiling rain comes.

A lot of people are too lazy to actually install concrete steps or anything of the sort, so we’ve all just sort of become used to sliding down floors in mud. I can’t remember the last time I showed up to one of my performances in clean attire. Carrying a backpack doesn’t make it much easier, in fact it makes it so much harder to slide.

Once you’re on the floor you need to be on, the floors are mostly flat! We have a whole crew that collects solar-powered scooters by night, and charges them all by morning… but for some reason we can’t figure out how to build a fucking set of stairs.

And I guess I can just feel myself collapsing as easily as our underground system can. 75 years old and nothing much left to live for. We’re going to continue to dig to Denver in hopes to scavenge something, anything. We’ve been through various small towns, but this is the first full city that we have dug towards.

Maybe we’ll meet some other moles - a crew coming from a different direction. Maybe tomorrow we’ll reach a DVD store, or those new moles will have heard of one of my most famous works, like the one I called Pulp Fiction.

There’s part of me that hopes I’m found out as a fraud. No individual should live this long as an imposter… the charade will eventually stop. Maybe someone will kill me for my lies.

Maybe Heaven will have escalators.

Navigating the corridors of this mind Here we set Fall into time Let the thread unravel It’s all the same in the end All is gone There’s nothing left to mend Avoidance is a virtue We can’t stand to admit That the world in which I’m dying Is the one I’ve always want Suffer Suffer That’s all that’s left for me Suffer Suffer So tell me Would you leave me out to dry While we’re waiting on the bloodlust to die Would you let it all unwind It’s fear from the other side Stay strong Stay here Stay quiet So no one can hear That we’re losing We’re losing We’re losing control

I was the 86th baby to be born in the Retreat. It’s funny that it’s called the Retreat. Insinuating this place is an escape to paradise, a trip to a ritzy, ever-sunny resort. The reality is the world finally nuked the shit out of each other, and the air’s set to be radioactive for the next 2 centuries. Until that fateful day comes, we have the Retreat. The Retreat is the last of humankind’s underground ecosystem. There are many levels, and even more exploratory tunnels going up, down, and everywhere in between. You can’t just go anywhere you please, however. The Federation of the Underground makes up the laws beneath the surface. And trust, FUG officers will always make sure you’re where you need to be… which is wherever they tell you to be.

Not everyone is quarantined to their respective pen 24/7. Some have special privileges based on their role in the Retreat. One of these roles is Digger. Diggers are responsible for maintaining the tunnels we have in place, and digging new tunnels. As such, they’ll need access to wherever their entry point is, whether it’s on the 4th or 64th level. I’m going to steal a Diggers card today, because I must get to the bottom of that horrible clanging noise is beneath my bedroom floor.

Ding! Dante heard the sound deep from the earth. Nine months of classes to get his certification all lead to his morning. He caught his reflection in the highly polished and began fidgeting with his slightly crooked bow tie. Twisting left and right Dante shoved the mangled strip of fabric. Stupid fancy dress, he thought and folded his arms, First days were hard enough without this getup. He struck a slightly bored pose.

The ground rumbled as the massive metal doors slid open with a clang. Three elevator operators in indigo velvet uniforms with golden braids and rows of shiny buttons stood in the open elevator carriage.

Two of the operators marched up to Dante in unison and circled him. Dante tried to introduce himself but they batted away his attempts with quick dismissive gestures.

“Well what do we have here, Hank,” said Orlando. “I don’t rightly know, Orlando, maybe a kid in an operator Halloween costume,” Hank said. “Hey, um,” Dante said. “Oh you have a better imagination than me, Hank, I thought he was a little lost farm boy,” said Orlando.

With menace tinged joviality, the men circled Dante again. One bumped his shoulder while the other whispered trick or treat. Checking a tablet, the third operator stepped off the carriage.

“Okay, gentlemen, leave the fish alone. MacIntosh head over to Heavy Freight, Armed Response is en route. Lofton please relieve Wagner on E4 and review those hydraulics,” said Charlotte. “Godspeed, operators.”

The two operators nodded respectfully and headed over to their respective carts.

“Godspeed, Chief,” the pair of operators said as they rode off into the network of tunnels.

“Miss, why are those guys so extra?” Dante asked.

The operator scrutinized him. With damp palms Dante pushed at the wrinkles in his not so crisp white button down shirt. He’d wanted to iron his shirt this morning but was too afraid to be late hoping the steam from the showers would be enough. Clearly it wasn’t.

“Trainee Cooper. I am not a miss I am Chief Operator Charlotte Ortiz and those are not guys they are long hours, hard working, life risking elevator operators who maintain and run 2500 pounds of metal up and down the earth’s mantle despite sesmic quakes and mechanical failure. We take pride in our uniforms and in ourselves and in the courtesy we provide to our riders. I’m an operator. I don’t know what you are but it is not worth my time to train kids who think this is quick way to make money,” Charlotte said.

She turned her back as she checked the morning manifest. Carts were already queuing at the E 3 gate dropping off passengers, students chatting, workers yawning, and a few day trippers with fanny packs and radiation suits. Dante was from a family of fungus farmers. He had never been more than a day’s walk from his home level but he wanted something different. Dante wanted to travel, met new people, have surprises. He wanted a life in the shaft more than he ever wanted anything. Turning a massive clockwork handle, Charlotte raised the gate. Passengers began to approach. Quickly, Dante retrieved his bow tie and tied it.

“Miss I mean Chief Ortiz I don’t know what I am either but I know I want to be an elevator operator.” “Going up,” Charlotte said. Dante stood at her side as the passengers streamed in.

As the alarm blared, Alex stumbled out of bed and made his way to the entrance of his underground abode. He checked the monitor displaying the outside world, revealing a barren and desolate wasteland that was once the surface of the Earth. He let out a deep sigh and turned away from the monitor. As the head engineer of the underground city, Alex had a lot of responsibilities. One of them was ensuring the smooth functioning of the elevator that transported people between the different levels of the underground system. The elevator was the only mode of transportation, and it was critical for Alex to ensure it was always in perfect working condition.

As he reached the elevator, he was surprised to see that it was out of order. He knew that he had to act quickly to prevent any further complications. Without the elevator, people would be stuck on their respective levels, unable to travel between them. Panic would ensue, and chaos would soon follow. Alex quickly donned his uniform and descended the stairs to the elevator room. He immediately began to assess the situation. It appeared that a critical component of the elevator had malfunctioned, and it needed to be replaced.

Alex knew that he had to act fast. He quickly called his team of engineers and assigned them to various tasks. They had to procure the necessary components, repair the elevator, and test it before it could be used again. It was a challenging task, and the team had to work together to ensure that everything went smoothly. The elevator was located at the center of the underground city, and it was a massive structure. It had multiple levels, each with its own set of mechanisms that had to be meticulously maintained. Alex and his team had to work tirelessly to replace the damaged component, and it took them almost twelve hours to do so.

As the team tested the elevator, Alex realized that something was not quite right. The elevator was jerking, and it was not moving as smoothly as it should. He immediately called for his team, and they began to investigate the issue. After a thorough inspection, they realized that one of the cables that held the elevator in place had been damaged. It was a grave situation, and Alex knew that it was critical to repair the cable before any further damage could occur.

Alex and his team quickly gathered the necessary equipment and started to climb up the cable. It was a perilous task, and they had to be extremely careful. They had to ensure that the elevator did not move while they were repairing the cable. One wrong move, and they could all plummet to their death. As they worked, Alex could feel his heart racing. He had never felt so alive. It was an adrenaline rush that he had never experienced before. He could feel the cable quivering beneath his feet as he worked on the repair. After what seemed like an eternity, the repair was complete. Alex and his team carefully made their way down the cable, and as they stepped onto solid ground, they let out a collective sigh of relief. Alex knew that the elevator was critical to the functioning of the underground city. It was the lifeline that connected the different levels, and without it, life in the underground system would come to a standstill. He also knew that he had an enormous responsibility to ensure that the elevator was always in perfect working condition.

As he made his way back to his abode, Alex reflected on the day's events. He realized that life in the underground system was not easy. The lack of natural light, the cramped living spaces, and the constant need for maintenance made life challenging. However, he also knew that the underground city was their only hope for survival.

Earth had been cleansed in atomic fire. Uninhabitable for two or more generations. Or so it was relayed to the underground survivors.

Bunker 6, a small group of tunnels built under the New York subway tunnels. Was now life to over seven hundred survivors. This is generation three in the Underworld. Where humanity hangs in the balance between fragile life and extinction.

“Nicky!” A young perky sounding voice called from behind her. Somewhere amongst the crowded food line.

Chow was served at three times during the day. Everyone lined up by age. The few pregnant women and ones with newborns were always first. Children followed in line by age. Then other elderly woman followed by all women, then lastly the men older first.

Of course her neighbors blonde curls and bright blue eyes came to mind. A groan escaped her lips as she thought about being called out for being part of a small group of kids that kinda formed a sort of gang.

So everyone else called them a gang. Except themselves. Which kinda sorta made them a gang. Either way, they had all started to explore further into the lower depths of the tunnels. Places blocked off long before their generation.

“Misfortunate’s” Most of the older crowd called their group of eight.

Well the older crowd and her neighbor girl. Who had been her best friend for a few years, till now.

“Nicky. I know you hear me!” She continued to push through the older teens behind her.

“What’s up?” Nicky took a deep breath and a big sigh before turning to meet her ex friend.

“You’ve been pretty M.I.A as of late?” Nicky could see the girls face drop a bit, her essence lowering a tad.

“Just doing Misfortune things” Nicky groaned again when two younger girls stepped ahead of them.

“We’ll we all miss you”

“Sorry. Just been down in the tunnels trying to make headway into the old ones” Quickly Kelsa’s face started to form a scowl.

“That’s off the grid. So out of bounds. I can’t believe you would let them drag you out there” Kelsa couldn’t believe her ears. “Your gonna get caught. Banished or worse killed”

She’d spoke up a bit loudly, causing a few people to turn and listen in.

“Hush. I’ll be fine”

“Till your not” She huffed.

“If you go. I’m going too”

“Everyone gather around” A familiar male voice called out from their right.

A makeshift stage was set up from many large rubble pieces. All pushed together with just enough space for the fairly large older man to stand.

“We have news” A few older people in the crowd rushed towards the fairly well dressed man.

Well dressed meaning not plastered with dirt and grime like the rest of the crowd.

“I have been told that a few people will be venturing up toward the city in hopes that better shelter and supplies might be possible” His voice called out joyfully.

“Last time that happened. Nearly everyone died” Another person spoke out.

“And nothing was found” Another added in.

“This is bogus. Exactly why we need to head down” Arrow grumbled, somehow having pushed ahead of the duo. “You still in Nicky?”

“Yeah I also got another body” Nicky pointed to Kelsa.

Hours later Kelsa was tagging along behind the ragtag group. Eight of them in all, Kelsa being the Ninth and closest to being left behind.

The tunnel had started to crumble a mile back. Creating walls of rubble and steel, all things the rest of them had already been over. Kelsa had not. So she struggled to keep pace with the rest of the group.

Arrow was front and center leading the pack. Black hair tied up in a ponytail just before his shoulders. Eyes focused on the flash badge attached to his jean jacket. Lighting the way for everyone else.

Bliss was at his heels, she’d have been still holding his hand had the climbing not already started. Instead of struggling with the rocks like she’d done the last two trips. Now she was ready, quickly maneuvering around the debris. Blonde hair falling down her back. Strung together by a multi colored cloth strip.

Max and Cone were neck and neck behind them. Max was a shorter more bulky looking boy. Cone nearly a foot over his height , skinny as a skeleton. Hair cut low like the old military men wore. Max had a moh-let. A new cross between an old style mullet and a mow hawk.

Stacy ; Quill , and Croc all kept pace together. Stacy was the tallest of their group. Just starting to fill out at her age. Reddish brown hair blocking her face with its loose bangs. While the rest had been messily tossed into a bun.

Quill was the mom of the group. Always stitching up their wounds due to whatever discomfort befell them. A tight bob hair cut accentuates her roundish face.

Croc was a black haired Sasquatch of a teen. Large tree limb arms, a thick chest, yet he was the most gentle person amongst the group. A brute of sheer strength and will.

Nicky let her shoulder length cement color grey black hair flowing behind her. Every once in a while it would be a bother. Nicky stayed behind, watching out for Kelsa. Who was panting and crying for a rest stop soon.

“Come on Kelsa keep up”

“I haven’t made this trip a hundred times before” She huffed out a large breath of air, slowly staggering toward a large beam jetting out the tunnel wall.

“Neither have we” Croc called looking back at Kelsa.

“I think you should just carry her. If not this will take weeks” Quill called back a sassy hint to her tone.

“Eww no. No boys gonna carry me. Especially not one named after a reptile “ She protested.

“No choice” In a whirlwind attempt, Croc turned and tossed Kelsa over his left shoulder.

Everyone else erupted with laughter as she kicked and screamed in anger. Only lasted maybe an hour, then she was talking to Nicky while resting on his shoulder.

“This is bull poopie”

“Who even says that” Quill questioned looking back as she stumbled into a beam that crumbled sending a shockwave through the tunnel ahead of them.

“Watch out!” Arrow shouted as a group of child size holes opened up in the tunnel wall. Very large rats snapping their teeth and hissing as they started to pile out.

These rats stood about the same height as an old world pit bull. They’d seen pictures from them in the before catalog.

Arrow was quick to draw the makeshift boy his father had fashioned out of wire and a hefty steel ground rod. Notching an arrow that sailed into the neck of a rat.

“Run!” Arrow shouted sticking another through its face.

Quill started to rush with the others, tripping and screaming as she was overwhelmed by the large rodent swarm.

Croc was grabbing a small beam and swinging around at them. While Arrow continued his assault, moving backwards.

Nicky and Bliss where now leading the charge. A large black building appearing out of the shaky light. Cone had also picked up a large stone. Heaving it at a group only a foot away from Kelsa.

Easily knocking two away he grabbed another as two rats jumped for his arms and neck. Down he fell in a rage filled furry. Max shouted out loudly and angrily. Cone’s body now getting swarmed by the beasts between him and the rest of the group.

Croc was fully swinging the cement ended beam, taking out handfuls at a time. The girls rushing ahead toward the door.

“This better be open” Bliss shouted looking back as Arrow started swinging his bow. Since his arrows had all run dry.

“Get over here Max!” Croc shouted tossing a handful into the air with a wide swing.

Giving the boy a few seconds to rejoin them.

“Croc take this!” Arrow tossed the boy his bow. Starting to use a sharp rock to fight them off as they circled him. “Keep Bliss safe”

As his words found her she turned only in time to see Nicky push her through the door. Arrow falling to a bunch of the rats. Kelsa was struggling with a small handful of stones as Croc grabbed her again. Tossing her up as a rat’s teeth made contact with her right leg.

Her screams echoed into the room as Croc slammed the door. Using his beam to hold it in place. Sweat running down his face and arms.

“That was close” He shook his head.

Max and Bliss had started to sob behind them. Croc sighed as Kelsa started a bunch of hissy labored breaths.

“That fucking thing bit me” Nicky laughed at the profanity and the doom approaching them like a basket case.

“Arrow is gone. Where do we go now?” Bliss had stood up, tears running down her face in anger and fear.

“Welp. Out there we get eaten by rats” Max shivered as he spoke.

“Quill’s gone to” Stacy groaned, tripping over a case that had been left nearly in the middle of the room.

The case was almost the same color as the floor tiles, metallic black. Yet as Nicky started to look around several skeletons littered the floor. Probably been years since they’d been picked clean of meat.

“That’s yucky”

“Good word choice” Bliss shook her head at Kelsa.

“What’s in the case?” Croc started towards it but Nicky got to the nearly invisible handle first.

Tossing it open only when Croc supported her with another hand.

In it say a large black bladed sword, sharp enough that it’s edge reflected their faces. Nicky quickly reached for it.

“Girl, that’s way to big for you” Bliss added in grabbing a small bat rolled in barbed wire.

“I bet you can’t even pick it up” Croc laughed but was cut short when a hammer caught his eye next to the sword. “Mine”

To everyone’s astonishment, Nicky picked up the blade with ease.

“It’s so light” She smiled, swinging it away from her group.

“What’s that?” Max grabbed a small black box, a few buttons on the top of it.

With a click it started to speak. “Lt. Burrow of seventh company. To anyone who finds this. I am part of the New Liberty community. Me and my squad came down into the chasm with hopes of finding survivors who fled the bombs. Project Bubble was a success. New York still stands on the surface, nearly untouched. Keep going down a hatch under this case. And keep right and follow the stream. Hopefully these weapons will help you fight off anything that gets in your way. My company hopes you make it”

Static filled the room as it cut out. Max tossed it at the wall. Breaking it the moment it hit.

“The city still stands” Bliss’s mouth hung open as Croc grabbed the case and tossed it. A door hatch of metal appears in its absence.

“We can save the whole group” Max jumped up and Croc pulled the hatch. A breeze quickly filling the room. The smell of water hung faintly in the breeze.

“Let’s move” Croc secured the hammer on his belt and started backwards down the metal ladder.

“You sure it’s safe?” Kelsa questioned watching Max and Bliss follow suit.

“Better then eaten by rats” Nicky said pulling a piece of strap off a man’s rusted gun and securing it to the hilt in two spots.

Nicky waited till Kelsa was a few feet down before filling and closing the hatch. It was hardly roomy enough to make the next step down. At the bottom it filled out into a single tunnel, nearly a person and a half wide. A small stream of water stretched off into the darkness.

“That way” Croc pointed after the stream.

They walked for what felt like forever. Max and Bliss had started to complain about their feet. Kelsa was leaning for at least the last half hour on the wall. Stacy stayed right behind Croc and Nicky brought up the rear. Hearing footfalls behind them every so often.

“I think the rats are following us” Nicky spoke out as low as possible.

“How?” Bliss questioned.

“I have no idea. I just keep hearing steps behind me.” Nicky looked back but seen nothing in the darkness.

“It’s to narrow to swing that blade. Let’s push it. We should be close” Croc turned and then started a faster pace.

A groan echoed behind them and everyone else fell in line with him. Nearly a half hour of running and the rushing of water started to get louder.

“Let’s go” Croc shouted, pushing harder.

Once the tunnel opened into a huge basin hole. The sky above brightly colored in a purple shade. Everyone looking at it with awe. Six of them had made it down a floor. Only to realize that a chasm had formed. The air was crisp, a small breeze blowing down through the few hundred feet depths.

Water flowed off the right side of the hole, landing in a lagoon area below them. It was heavenly compared to the tunnels they had struggled in since birth.

“I can’t believe it…. This should still be deadly” Kelsa was limping still due to the rat attack.

Still she hung to the boy they called Croc. Nicky still holding the fairly large black bladed weapon they’d stolen from an outpost outside the grid.

“Now all we have to do is climb” Nicky’s smile was ear to ear looking back at there little band of Misfortunate’s.

Everyone froze as a whipping sound started to echo into the whole. Nearly causing them all to cup their ears. Till a black colored double bladed helicopter came into the view crossing the chasms edge.

“Help!! Help!!” They all called out in unison.

Then the groan started to rise behind them. Everyone quickly turned weapons at the ready, as a bloodied and battered Quill stumbled out into the open. Bite marks and claw marks tore through skin and clothes. Blood started to drive in what remained of her dirty cami, and destroyed jean pants. Bliss started to whimper as she recognized the jean jacket wrapped around her midsection.

“Help!!!” Croc shouted waving his hammer as a loud crackle rolled over the entire ridge. Causing them all to fall to the floor covering their ears.

Nicky looked over to see Bliss brandishing a handgun in the air as it went off again. The sound causing the poor girl to drop on the ground. The sound of the chopper got louder as darkness overtook her.

Authors note

So thanks to prompts I have now started a second project tied to the Neon Hustlers universe. Please leave a like and let me know if you enjoyed it. I’ll be sure to do the same for you.

Have a great writing day.

White teeth.

Hanging on four slim strings in front of my face are gleaming pearl white teeth. A pin sized hole has been drilled through each one. It’s obvious that the holes were made to accommodate the almost invisible line of filament that slithers through the center of each tooth allowing them to be hung from the ceiling. The strings slide through the cool air like pendulums. It’s hard not to feel drowsy watching them glide, back and forth, back and forth. I continue to watch them move drifting off towards sleep further and further away.

I’m about to close my eyes when realization hits. Teeth. I’m staring at dangling human teeth. I can see them. Why can I see them? I’m working in level 10. There shouldn’t be any light down here. I’m jerked from my cathartic state to panicked movement. I suddenly try and stand up but realize my feet are firmly stuck to the ground. Looking down I see, quite literally, I am glued to the floor. Where heavy work boots and thick socks had once been I can only see the bare skin of the tops of my feet. A black tar-like substance is squishing out between my toes and seeping out from under my feet. I try and reach down to touch my foot and am meant with sharp pain in both shoulders. I frantically scan up my body and notice two thin pieces of metal. One pierced through each shoulder bolting me to whatever I’m sitting on. The pain is suddenly coursing through me. My shoulders are on fire but it’s nothing compared to the horrific aching yet poignantly sharp sensation I am now aware of in my mouth.

Teeth. Dangling, white teeth. My teeth? Shit. They’re my teeth. He caught me. That conniving bastard caught me!

The last time I saw Drunen was four years ago between levels 8 and 9 of the water tunnels. He had been trying to manically empty packets of ant poison into the water pipe leading directly to the level 2 drinking supply. His eyes had opened wide when I had grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him, asking what he was doing. In silence he had tilted his head up his eyes meeting mine. An empty amused look had played across his face before he had punched me right underneath the right side of my ribs. I had barely been able to scramble away gasping. He had simply turned and started climbing down the ladder towards the newly constructed tunnels leading through level 9’s water turbines. I remember yelling after him, “Dru! I know they took her but you can’t kill everyone up there for your personal loss! You’re crazy! There’s nowhere for you to go. The levels below 8 don’t have enough oxygen. You can’t travel between levels without proper equipment. I’ll tell them about what you tried to do here Dru. I swear I will!” I had heard no response but the fading sound of boots scraping against metal. Later that day I’d made a full report to the BSIB, Below Surface Investigations Bureau. I’d seen nothing of Dru since then, heard nothing.

Earlier today we had gotten an automated warning message about some air filters down on level 10. I’m the only person small enough with adequate experience to travel through the tunnels leading into level 10. I have been for years. Dru was the last person I had managed to take down with me past level 8. It takes conditioning of your lungs, flexibility, small stature, lack of fear of the dark or small spaces, a clear head, deep mechanical knowledge, and a ton of other qualities just to qualify to move between levels 1 and 4. The levels beyond require much longer training. Level 10 is almost brand new and doesn’t have many moving parts because it’s so inaccessible. I am alone. No one is coming for me.

My thoughts about the past come to a halt when I hear a slight movement in the space behind me. Snapped back fully in to the present moment, I try the only thing I can think of. “Dru, let’s talk about this.” My voice sounds foreign, scraping out of my throat hoarse and thick. I feel moist hot breath on my neck. From behind a dark whispering voice hisses, “Talk? Oh my friend we still have twenty eight ornaments to hang. We will see if you still want to talk after that.”