A Darkness Below: Chapter 12
Man, law school is kicking my ass when it comes to keeping up with my posts here. Hopefully in the next week or two I can get a solid schedule worked out so I don't fall so far behind! Here's the next chapter of my story. Enjoy! As always, upvotes are most welcome, as well as any comments or critiques!
If you're just coming to A Darkness Below, you can check out the previous chapters here:
They drove past it without slowing down, making their way down the street and hanging another right when they had the chance to. As soon as they were out of sight of the building, Warrick pulled the car over against the walkway, shutting off the motor. He turned to face Maggie, motioning for Daniel to turn as well so they could discuss the plan.
“Keep in mind these are shadow fetishists. We’re going to be at a severe disadvantage, but I packed a handful of torches and fusees that we can strap up and use as diversions,” he said, looking between the two. “So long as we keep the light on them, there’s not a whole lot they can do with the darkness to their advantage.”
“Not to be cynical about our chances, sergeant,” Daniel said, looking between him and Maggie, “but why are we trying this at night? We’re at the worst kind of disadvantage.”
“Because, my boy,” he said, clapping Daniel on the shoulder, “it wouldn’t matter one way or another. They’ll know we’re coming the moment that we set foot in that building, daylight or no. At least this way we’ll catch them unprepared; only complete fucking morons would attack an undercroft in the middle of the night.” Warrick grinned wide at that last bit, and they all shared a small snicker. After all, what better way was there to cut the tension of what could possibly be a march to their deaths than with a little self-deprecating humor?
Warrick opened the door and slid out, shutting it quietly behind him. Maggie and Daniel followed suit, falling in behind him as he opened the trunk of the car. Snatching up flashlights attached to leather straps, he handed one each to the pair of hunters and grabbed one for himself. After a little work, they managed to strap them on, donning one flashlight over each shoulder, facing forward. They conducted an equipment check to make sure they’d turn on before shutting them back off and grabbing a handful of flares each. Maggie and Daniel shoved them into the pockets of their jackets as Warrick shut the trunk. Now that they were loaded up with what meager tools they had at their disposal, they started on their approach toward the boarding house.
The road was empty this late at night, with only a handful of lights on as far as they could see. The darkness wasn’t much cover, of course; these creature lived in it, so sticking to the shadows was more to their disadvantage. However, they were careful to travel silently. As quietly as possible, they moved across the cobblestone street, hugging the sides of the buildings as they approached. Once they found their way to the landing of the boarding house, Daniel moved up to the front door. No doubt they’d be monitoring the exterior for any kind of nuisance or sign of entry, but there was no choice; they had to make it in somehow, and the quietest, least intrusive way was to pick the lock. Warrick and Maggie stood on either side of Daniel as he fished out his lockpick and got to work.
Less than half a minute later, the lock released its hold on the door, and he tugged gently on the knob in the center of the door. Carefully and quietly, they filed into the darkness inside, closing the door behind them but leaving the door unlocked in case they needed to beat a hasty retreat.
Now that they were inside the house, they cast their stealthy approach away, turning the torches on and grabbing a flare in one hand. They kept the strikers in their opposite hands, making their way carefully down the center hallway of the house.
The boarding house that they were exploring was a colonial house built in the late eighteenth-century, and it showed its age. The hardwood panels on the floor creaked and groaned underfoot, protesting the added weight that was being placed on them after many years of not being used. The first door they came across on their left led into the parlor, and, by the look of things, it hadn’t been used since the last owner took possession of the property. The room was bare save a small end table in the far corner, and the layer of dust clinging to the floor, undisturbed by footprints, seemed to indicate that it had been this way by design. Noticing nothing suspicious, they moved through the room to the doorway at the far end, making their way back out into the hallway and heading for the next doorway.
The next room they came across was the kitchen, a space that took the entire back half of the first floor of the house. Like the parlor before, it was bereft of furniture, appliances, or cooking utensils, and the dust that clung to every exposed surface spoke of the last decade of disuse. Their flashlights illuminated the empty room as they made their way carefully around it, but there was nothing of note within. The same was the case with the empty dining room that concluded the floor plan of the first floor, and this was beginning to bother Maggie. They made their way up the stairs, each step letting out a plaintive groan as they forced the old wood to support their weight, and the second floor did much the same as the first, announcing their presence with each step. Despite the loud introduction, the second floor was just as empty and void of any piece of furniture as the first floor had been. If there were leeches occupying this building, they were being purposefully deceptive.
“Head back down. We have to check the cellar,” Warrick said quietly to the pair as they finished their inspection of the last bedroom.
Maggie turned and lead the way back to the stairs, moving down the hallway directly and keeping the striker against her flare. It wouldn’t do any harm to one of them if they decided to surprise her, but the blinding light would give her a few seconds to react; it might be enough to save her life. They managed their way back down the stairs and back down into the hallway along the first floor, walking around the stairwell to the closed door beneath it. Daniel and Warrick filed in behind Maggie as she positioned herself against the door. Once they were in place, she turned the knob and flung the door open.
Nothing happened. There was no rush toward the door, nor was anything heard aside from the creak of the door hinges as it came to a final stop against the wall. Warrick slid past Daniel and Maggie, taking the lead once again as he turned toward the stairwell leading down into the cellar.
Unlike the darkness of the house above, the root cellar was an absolute abyss of black. Warrick’s flashlights shone brightly for a few feet before dying into the darkness past the stairs in front of him. It looked to them as though the flimsy wooden stairs continued on forever, leading into a bottomless pit. The air inside was cold and oppressive, pressing down against them with an unnatural weight and forcing each of them to suck in a much deeper breath than necessary. The floor finally came into view as they made their way down the stairs, spilling out into a space the same area as the house itself, but, once again, bereft of anything. The entire house had been empty, and there were no signs that anyone had lived there for at least a decade, if not more.
“What the hell is this supposed to be, Danny?” Maggie said, looking over her shoulder at Daniel as they fanned out to clear the cellar. He shook his head and shrugged, and in the dim light she could make out the same bewildered expression on his face that she was no doubt sporting herself. The silence of the cellar was deafening; even their muffled footsteps rang in her ears, and her eyes and ears strained to make out anything out of the ordinary. There had to be something that indicated that the report was correct, and that they were here to actually do something.
Ruses were exceedingly rare, and if it had been one, a trap certainly would have been sprung by now.
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