Chapter 20

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You froze the moment you turned around after stepping off the ladder.

You were now in a narrow hallway with concrete walls and floors, the bright lights flickering every once every few seconds. Their were various wires and pipes of all different sizes decorating the ceiling and hanging along the walls, spewing water or various other liquids along the concrete walls. You thought the faint sewage smell was bad, but the sight in front of you was a lot worse.

A tarantula, with black and white striped legs was sitting against the wall. What frightened you terribly was the fact that the size of the spider was more than the size of two large dogs, shocking you to your core.
You contemplated on shooting it right away, but you had only so many bullets left. You could stab it, but it's not like you wanted to get close to it anyway.
You couldn't just stand there either, you had to keep on going and hopefully find a way out of this place.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself into a run, turning the corner quickly to avoid getting anywhere near the fuzzy body of the spider. To your horror, another tarantula was waiting for you around the corner, raising its front legs and extending its large fangs. It's body almost blocked your entire path, the large metal door leading to somewhere safer just behind it.
You had halted upon seeing it, but thinking fast you forced yourself to continue running, forcing yourself past the spider's legs as you felt it's eyes follow you. The tarantula could've been moments away from striking you if you hadn't moved any faster, and thankfully you got to the door and closed it behind you as you caught glimpses of it turning itself around.

Your boots splashed in the puddles of water that pooled on the ground from various leaky pipes, the flashing lights doing you a disservice as you continued your brisk walk. You heard rather sluggish footsteps in the water puddles somewhere ahead, letting you know their were enemies down here. Just as you turned the corner, you were met with a tall undead man with torn bloodied wet clothes and wrinkled skin, as if he had been laying dead in water for hours before coming back to life. You could've ran into him if you had been running, but that didn't stop him from wanting to attack you.
He lunged to you, his grimy bony fingers gripping ahold of your shoulders. You struggled to aim your revolver to him, leaning away from his head as it got closer in an attempt to bite at you. You reached over to grab your knife from its sheath, thrusting it up underneath the zombie's jaw feeling the bones of his skull scratch against the blade. His face stiffened, his eyes rolling as you pulled out the knife and watched his body fall to the floor with a splash. A strange murky slush of blood followed the blade, streaming down the handle nod mingling within your fingers, making you almost audibly gag.
You stepped over the body and continued along your way, looking around to make sure no other zombie was around. You quickly wiped your knife at the bottom of your pants near your boots, running your fingers through the dirty water on the ground. As awful as the smell sewer-like smell was, it was better than to have sticky rotting blood all over your hand.

You continued walking along the narrow hallways and turning corners, finding more pipes leaking water along the walls and from the ceiling, pooling the floors with every step you took. Surprisingly, you came across a fuse box surrounded by pressure gauges and thin pipes that connected to random places. Their was a bright red light next to the main fuse box, along with a green light that wasn't on. Pulling open the door to the box, their was a switch that was flipped off.

Wondering what exactly it was for, you flicked on the switch to see the red light flick to a bright green, causing something to buzz. All you could that happened was the lights had stopped flickering.

"Guess that's something." You turned around and continued on your way, finding another door which you hoped would lead somewhere promising.

You came to a dimly lit room with the walls covered in tiles, a large metal set of shelves to your left holding lots of steel and copper pots and pans.
A horrid stench permeated the air: A coppery rotten smell, like someone left a lot of corpses lying around in the sun. In front of you was a large steel table with a basket of rotten fruit or vegetables. A few cutting boards were laid out with cleavers, and a massive stew pot covered with its lid.
The unsettling thing about the almost industrial sized kitchen was the blood that littered the floor and the table. The wooden cutting boards, the cleavers, the pot even had streams of blood along the top and traveling down the sides.

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