The stairs leading down to the basement were steep and narrow, so I chose to descend carefully. The walls were grimy and slick with moisture, the steps themselves sunken and uneven. The air was heavy and stagnant, and the further I descended below the earth’s surface, the harder it became to cope with the stench. It was distinctly human, like a communal shower room that hadn’t been wiped down in a decade or more; thick and fetid, like a public washroom that had been too frequently used. I tried breathing through my mouth, but this only succeeded in lodging a ghost of the reek at the back of my throat, where I could taste it. As I dismounted the last step, I switched on my flashlight and cast the small cone of light around the brick chamber. The ceiling was surprisingly high, vaulted with arches that appeared distinctly church-like. I found this to be unsettling, as there was nothing holy which could be worshiped in a place such as this. As I explored the boundaries of this first room, I came to realize that it was the antechamber to a much larger system of tunnels and chambers which, by estimation, must sprawl out for several kilometers in every direction. This realization brought a knot of dread to my stomach, as it hinted at a scale and scope much more vast than even my worst nightmares could have allowed.

Retreating back to the foot of the stairs that I had entered from, I noticed a narrow gap in the wall that I had previously mistaken for a shadow. I shone my flashlight through the slit, but could not make out anything in the chamber beyond. Swallowing hard, I began to edge my way into the darkness. I was terrified that I would become wedged into the space and trapped permanently, but I managed to make my way through the narrow channel relatively unscathed. Once on the other side, I realized that I had stumbled upon some kind of workshop, though I dared not imagine the sort of “work” that would be accomplished in a place such as this. Against the far wall was a metal rack, thick leather straps arranged at the corners of the rectangular frame. A series of cages lined the wall adjacent, mercifully empty. In the middle of the room was a large metal funnel, a ladder leaning against it. Against my better judgment, I approached the metal funnel. It was tall enough that I was unable to peer into it, and so I mounted the ladder. Once at the top rung, I found that the top of the funnel was stopped by an opaque lid. It was secured by a heavy latch but no lock, so I grabbed the mechanism and dragged it open.

Curled up at the bottom of the funnel was a woman. She was naked, filthy, and heavily pregnant. She flinched away from the beam of my flashlight and hissed, as if frightened to be confronted by another human. I recoiled as well, overcome with shock and horror. I felt light headed, and I struggled to keep my balance on the top of the ladder, afraid that I might fall to the ground and split my head open on the filthy ground. Once I regained some semblance of myself, I took a deep breath and leaned down into the pit of horrors, offering the woman a hand to climb out of her prison. After some coaxing she acquiesced, allowing me to haul her up and into the world of the living. I helped her climb down the ladder, as she appeared to be very weak and malnourished. Once we were safely on the ground, I quickly searched the cages for something to wrap her in, as her emaciated frame was shivering uncontrollably. I had only turned my back to her for a moment when I felt a sharp, cold pain in the small of my back, driving me to the ground. I let out an unearthly shriek as my head was jerked back, exposing my vulnerable throat. In my last moments, I could see the woman standing over me as she swung a large meat cleaver downwards. There was a sort of wet thud, more pain than I had ever felt, and then everything went black.