Chapter 17: Chapter 14

Through the fogged lenses of his mask, Colin watched as something between a dog and a beaver ate through the hide of what he swore was a starving bear. Hidden behind a chunk of stone blown off from a nearby building, he glanced at Caitlin, the girl crouched low, eyes tracing the streets. He was curious as to what she was looking for, but kept quiet with a creature so close in sight. 

Their breathing quiet and steady, the world slowed down around them, the world lit by flame alone. Above, the green smog of the factories was gone, replaced by the natural smoke that bled from never-ending pyres. Through the shades of grays and blacks, the sun pierced through, feeding the greenery sprouting through the old roads and houses. 

With industry abandoned, nature was taking over. 

A point Colin wasn’t thrilled about, though not being bombarded by poison air at all hours was probably a good enough reason for people to fight for control of the area. That said, as a humanoid figure with arachnid legs jumped from a third story building, killing the dog-beaver-thing with tusks longer than his arm, he reconsidered the point. Maybe the toxic air was a better death; certainly less bloody, most of the time. 

Caitlin poked his side, tearing the detective’s eyes from the creatures eating one another. She nudged her head to the side, emphasizing the direction with a pointed finger. Without a word, she stalked off in that direction, staying within the shadows and keeping to whatever flat ground remained. 

Moving carefully but not slowly, they crept from one obstruction to another. Hiding behind toppled statues and crumpled trucks, cutting through abandoned buildings, always skirting around whatever areas made the most abundant noise. Colin relied completely on her sense of direction, keeping his eyes open and his awareness spread wide, revolver at the ready. 

Every step was punctuated by the painfully loud echo of something close by, whether a feral growl or the shifting of stone scraping against itself. Regardless, Colin’s heart beat like a piston, the sound thumping and pounding against his temples. His fingers, clammy and aching, shook constantly, finger off the trigger but desperately wanting to fire at every noise and shifting shadow. 

Caitlin slowed as they neared an old factory, rubble lining its sides for several blocks of wide-open space. “Hold on,” she whispered, scampering closer, scanning the road. “This isn’t right.” 

“Nothing here is right,” Colin hissed, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Worse than usual, I mean.” Gripping the remains of an old, busted fire hydrant, Caitlin pulled herself further into the shadows. “Can’t explain it, just a weird feeling. But something here is different.” 

Poking his head out over her shoulder, he got an idea of what she meant. The rubble along the sides of the factory looked too perfectly stacked, the streets cleared away to supply the wall. Designed to funnel people into the factory or to protect whoever was behind it? “I don’t know if this is different from the last time you were here, but that rubble is definitely no accident. Whoever set that up wants people to go through a specific path. The Doctor do this?” 

Chewing on her lip, Caitlin squinted hard. “I don’t know. Maybe. Really only one way to find out.” She pointed to the far side of the wall, where large line of pipes connected to a hole on the second floor. “Now that is no accident. Someone wants us to go through there. Come on.” 

Sprinting from their cover, Caitlin dashed across the flat lands separating them from the factory. With the elegance of a raging bull, she charged up the pipes making up the ramp, disappearing into the shadows of the building. Her scream reverberated from the darkness. 

Grumbling, Colin holstered his gun and charged after her, blood pounding in his ears, every huffing breath warming up his face. It was a short sprint, his feet hitting the pipes in a lopsided run, metal groaning beneath wooden soles. He climbed, nonetheless, clearing the hole in the wall. 

No floor met him, sending the detective tumbling through a cavernous entrance, bouncing off another pile of rubble just below. “Gah!” He screamed, arm banging against a piece of rebar, tearing through his jacket, blood soaking his sleeve before he hit the ground. “Oh gods, that... agh.” Sucking air in through his teeth, he pushed himself to his knees, gripping his bicep. 

“You good down there?” Caitlin asked, stretching her back, resulting in a satisfying crack. 

“Just peachy,” he moaned, struggling to his feet. Pulling his hand away, fingers coming away bloody, he clicked his tongue. “Damn it all. Sarah’s going to kill me if this gets infected. So, where do we go from here?” Colin stripped his gas mask from his face, hooking it to a hook on his belt. The factory was dark enough without the lenses fogging up his vision. 

“No idea,” Caitlin admitted. “The paths have changed since I last came through here, and I never bothered coming down this way before. I’ll have a better idea when we’re on the other side.” She stood there, hands on her hips, looking around at the derelict assembly line belts. 

Mismatched crates spilling over with bits and bobs filled the factory floor, nuts and bolts mixed with children's toys and colouring sticks. Above, ceramic masks dangled from the rafters on threads and wires, each poorly painted and coloured to resemble a different face, empty eyes watching all. Shoes were piled up in a corner, so high the top was closer to the ceiling than the floor. 

“Well, this is... weird.” Caitlin stepped closer to the crates, looking over the top layer before reaching in. Digging through the box’s contents, she grabbed something at random and pulled her arm out, a gold locket dangling from her fingers. Tilting her head, appraising it, she pocketed it. 

Colin, still nursing his wound, said nothing. Instead, looking for an exit. The front door was blocked off by more rubble, as were the other doors and various windows spread around. Halls led deeper into the complex, the darkness filled with ghostly silence. “I don’t see a direct way out of here.” 

“Well,” Caitlin started, pointing at one of the rubble-blocked windows, “we could get to work on clearing one of these windows and burst our way through to the other side. Might take a while though, and it will definitely make a good bit of noise.” 

“Would rather stay quiet while we’re down here, if it can be helped.” Leaning in towards the nearest hall, Colin scowled. “I really don’t want to stay here either though. Even ignoring the shoe pile and the faces, something feels off about this place.” 

Caitlin crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Oh, really? Because the shoes and masks feel just like home.” She walked past him, spinning around to continue walking backwards. “Come on, let’s hurry and go. Longer we stay here, the more time there is for something to follow us in through the giant hole up there.” 

She was already a silhouette amidst shadows by the time Colin followed after her, a soft sight escaping his lips. Their steps bounced down the hall immediately, the two relaxing as nothing echoed back down at them. They were alone, for the moment. 

Colin flipped open his lighter, flicking a tiny flame into life. Pipes sat inert, snaking along the walls, rusting and untouched. Light bulbs swung overhead, long burnt out, hanging from iron rods. The first intersection came, and they went left, aiming for the opposite side of the factory. Door after door went by with every few steps, the few they checked locked or barricaded. 

There was only the hall, and its winding path to an end. 

Colin’s heart beat louder than the clacking of his shoes, every twist and turn setting his senses on edge. “You ever hear of that old myth about a minotaur and the labyrinth?” He blurted it out without thinking, needing to talk, to relieve the tension. 

Caitlin looked at him, once again, like he was an idiot. “The hell is a minotaur?” 

“It’s this half-man, half-bull thing that guarded a maze, killing anyone who got lost in it. Old mythology. All of, well, this,” He gestured around them, “Made me think about it.” 

“You walk through some dark halls and think of a... wait, what the shit is a bull?” Caitlin pinched the bridge of her nose. “You top-siders are so weird sometimes.” 

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“Well, all these halls, they-” 

Mama? 

They froze, Colin’s thumb pressed against his lighter’s top, ready to snuff the light. 

Where are you, mama? 

A voice. An echo. Young. Too young to be here. Too innocent. 

“A child?” Caitlin asked, her wide eyes betraying the false hope of such a thing. 

“I dearly hope so,” Colin said, creeping down the hall, unholstering his revolver. “Stay behind me, and watch my back.” 

The voice didn’t become louder as they went deeper, but layered over itself with more voices, all speaking the same words. 

Mama! Mama! Where are you? 

All children, boys and girls, making no sound besides the same emphatic cries. Over and over, a siren’s call to help. 

Colin wanted to turn around, and head back towards the entrance. They could clear out the rubble from one of the windows, he thought, but curiosity pushed him forward. Always forward, like a rope dragging him closer and closer. 

They rounded another intersection, and saw from where the voices came. In the shadows, all they saw were masks. Painted ceramic, baring poor renditions of human faces, their expressions varied and exaggerated. One smiled too broadly, its teeth green scribbles, the lips painted too red. Another laughed, or howled, its mouth drawn too wide with a forked tongue lashing out. Another was crying, another screaming, another too empty to be anything but a corpse’s face. 

Dozens of these masks shifted around in the darkness, floating faces that turned to watch Colin and Caitlin. Something sloshed around, squelching beneath the faces, masks lurching towards them in one sentient mass. 

Mama? 

Colin’s lighter reflected off something behind the masks, spots of orange glittering along inky blackness, shifting tar squirming towards them. Lumps forming into grasping hands, stubby fingers wiggling and grasping. 

“Run,” Colin breathed, already sprinting down the hall, Caitlin quickly overtaking him. 

Mamaaaaaa! 

The voices wailed, a siren screaming for its prey. Together, the masks and tar rushed across the walls and floor, a thousand hands clawing the creature forward. One over the other, squelching tendrils curling into new limbs, then splitting apart to reform anew. The masks led the charge, a voice for each one, all crying and screaming. 

“What the hell is that thing?” Colin huffed, glad not to have his mask impeding his breathing, though now having to deal with the smell of rust and mold seeping from the walls. 

They turned a corner, Caitlin’s instincts leading them in whatever direction they were now heading. “You think I know? I’ve never seen anything like that before!” 

A stairway greeted them at the end of the hall, turning 180-degrees halfway up. The grated steps creaked under their steps, the two gripping the railing for balance as they stumbled up the steps. Hitting the second floor just in time for the creature of masks to slam into the stairs, slowed down by the sloping wire steps. 

Mama! Mama! Mama! 

The cry never ended, never dulled, voices disappearing only to return twice as strong. 

A single path led the pair from the well of faces, losing distance with each second, each step. But eventually the hall did end, opening back up onto the factory floor, now overlooking dead machines from a rattling catwalk. 

“Where do we go now?” Caitlin called, still running. “Almost out of floor here!” 

Colin’s vision was blurry, heart at its limit, sleeve dyed crimson. “I don’t... know... just keep-” The floor gave out under Colin’s feet, a panel slamming into the ground below as he tumbled forward, fingers wrapping around the catwalk’s metal grating. Dangling from his bleeding arm, gun gripped tightly in the other, Colin grit his teeth. “Caitlin!” 

She stopped several meters away, staring at him and the gap, the creature of masks tumbling down as it roared from the hall. It hit the floor like a thick yogurt, splattering out but remaining hole. And from the floor it rose, a grasping abyss, stubby fingers brushing against the detective’s kicking feet. 

Mamaaaaa! 

“Hurry!” Colin screamed, gritting his teeth. 

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