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SEPT 27, 2149 DAY FIFTEEN ON THE GROUND
IN THE GLEAMS OF THEIR BRIGHTLY SHINING FLASHLIGHTS AND LANTERNS, WHAT WAS ONCE NOTHING more than a wide space of darkness and charcoal shadows became a whole world waiting to be discovered; the trio advancing further into the large cache.
"Really think this place hasn't been touched since the war?" Bellamy queried, crouching as he descended down the steps to keep his head from hitting the ceilings.
"A girl can dream. Come on." Clarke responded.
Dakota followed behind Bellamy, who followed behind Clarke; a few steps after them as she looked around in interest. She did her best to illuminate every nook and cranny of the place with her lantern, wanting to take it all in. She coughed suddenly as she accidentally entered directly into a sticky spiderweb, spluttering dramatically as she squeezed her eyes shut and vigorously swiped at the substance on her face.
"Are you dying up there?" Clarke called, half-joking and half-genuinely nervous; the two in the front turning around to see her swatting at her skin frenetically.
"All good, just being mauled by a cobweb." she choked, spitting onto the already dirty floors and violently rubbing her lips with the sleeve of her coat before carrying on. A rush of embarrassment briefly washed over her as two stared blankly at her a moment longer, soon resuming back down the steps.
"Did you guys know that spider silk goes from liquid protein to solid thread as it leaves their bodies? And that they can have like seven different kind of silk?"
"I did not know that." the Blake boy replied, the three pausing as they rounded a corner.
Dakota gulped, a skeleton lying against the staircase able to be seen as she peeked past Bellamy's arm. It of course automatically made their dim environment more eerie and less innocent, but the Thompson girl felt sadness above all else; not being able to stop herself from wondering distraughtly who the person was. How they had died, what dreams they had possessed, whom they had gotten to love. Whom had loved them.
"Hell of a place to die." Bellamy stated, everyone moving briskly past the unsettling scene as they made it to the main level.
The wretchedly unventilated depot was dank and utterly defiled; dreary and very evidently uninhabitable. The moisture-laden air was so soiled with the profound odor of mold you could practically taste it, the place miserably trashed with mucky water leaking from several spots above; dripping quickly down like a broken shower nozzle.
"So much for living down here, this place is disgusting. Damn it." Clarke voiced, wandering around with her lantern.
"I'm sure we can still find some good supplies, though." Dakota suggested hopefully, glancing around as she followed along with the leaders.
