Chapter 9: The Faceless
801 Words
"Back to the stairs!" Han Batou screamed.
We turned to run, but the path was blocked. Three of the gray figures stood between us and the exit. They moved with a jerky, unnatural speed, their limbs snapping like broken branches.
"Iron! Clear the way!" Han Batou yelled.
The giant didn't hesitate. He roared, a sound of pure primal fear, and swung his machete in a wide arc.
THWACK.
The blade bit into the shoulder of the nearest figure. It should have severed the arm. Instead, the blade stuck, caught in bone and dried sinew. The figure didn't scream. It didn't even flinch. It just grabbed Iron's wrist with its free hand.
The skin of the creature's hand crumbled away, revealing gray muscle and yellow bone.
"Get it off me!" Iron bellowed.
I grabbed a loose bronze coin from the floor—a heavy, square-holed cash—and hurled it like a baseball. It struck the creature in the side of the head with a sickening crunch.
The head snapped to the side, but the grip on Iron's wrist didn't loosen.
"Fire!" I yelled. "Use the torches!"
We had brought kerosene torches for light. Han Batou lit his and thrust the flame into the creature's face.
The dried flesh caught instantly. A smell like burning rubber filled the air. The figure shrieked—a high, thin sound that wasn't human—and let go of Iron. It stumbled back, flailing, setting the coins on the floor ablaze.
"Go! Go! Go!"
We scrambled past the burning corpse, our boots slipping on the scattered treasure. We reached the base of the stairs.
"Up!" Han Batou commanded.
We started climbing, two steps at a time. The darkness below us was alive with movement. The faceless things were climbing after us, crawling on all fours like spiders, their broken bodies defying gravity.
"Why are they here?" I panted, my lungs burning. "Rat... they got Rat."
"They didn't get him," Han Batou grunted, looking down. "He's leading them."
I looked down. Rat was at the bottom of the stairs. He was looking up at us. And for a second, just a split second, his eyes focused. He wasn't possessed. He was dead. He was just a puppet.
"Keep moving!"
We reached the landing where we had found the fresh skeleton earlier.
"Wait," I stopped. "The skeleton."
The bones were gone.
The pile of rags and the rusted shovel were there, but the bones had been cleared away.
"Did... did they eat him?" Iron asked, his voice trembling.
"No," Han Batou said, shining his light on the wall. "Look."
There were scratch marks on the stone. Deep gouges, as if something had been dragged across the wall. They led not to the exit, but to the solid rock face on the left.
"There's another way out," I realized. "The guy who died... he found a secret exit. But he didn't make it."
"We don't have time for archaeology!" Iron shouted.
The shuffling sound was getting closer. The faceless things were climbing the stairs, their wet slapping echoing in the shaft.
Han Batou looked at the scratch marks. He looked at the stairs leading up to the surface, which were now swarming with gray shapes.
"The scratch marks," Han Batou said. "They go through the rock."
"That's impossible," I said.
"Is it?" Han Batou walked to the wall. He pressed his ear against the stone. "Do you hear that?"
I listened. Behind the rock, there was a sound. A low, rushing sound.
"Water," Han Batou said. "Underground river. If we break through, the current might take us out. It's a gamble."
"Better than staying here," Iron said. He raised his sledgehammer.
"Wait," I said. "Look at the inscription above the scratches."
I shone my light on the top of the wall. There were three characters, carved in haste.
The Yellow Spring.
"It's a myth," I whispered. "The river of the underworld. It doesn't lead to the surface. It leads to the next level."
Han Batou looked at me. His face was grimy, sweat cutting tracks through the dirt.
"Chen," he said. "In this business, myths are just maps that haven't been decoded yet. Break the wall!"
Iron swung.
CRACK.
The stone gave way. It was a false wall, thin and brittle.
Behind it was not a tunnel, but a vertical shaft. A natural sinkhole. And rushing through it was a torrent of white, foaming water.
It was a waterfall. Going down.
"Jump!" Han Batou yelled.
He didn't wait. He grabbed his bag and leaped into the white water.
Iron looked at me, terror in his eyes. The shuffling on the stairs was right behind us. The first gray hand reached over the ledge.
"Jump, kid!" Iron roared.
He shoved me.
I fell backward into the freezing, roaring dark.
- Writer
