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.”