A Touch of Hope

Chapter 21 - The Darkness

The platform once more juddered to a grinding halt, jerking Flipsey and causing him to spill out onto the 3rd floor, the R&D department. This floor was a lot less warm and welcoming than the floor he had just been on. Stretched out before him was a concrete corridor, no more than a meter and a half high and less than a meter wide, disappearing into the inky blackness 10 meters away. Cobwebs matted the ceilings, the rotting corpses of countless spiders dangled down, almost brushing the top of Flipsey's head. It a few years, the concrete walls had cracked and rained flakes of stone dust down onto the floor. Much of the floor had been chipped away from years of use and questionable devices being transported over it, leaving the floor uneven underfoot. Even here, everything was covered in the layer of brown dust. Stepping forward in trepidation, Flipsey plunged down the corridor and into the darkness.

Flipsey shivered as even in the warm depths of the base, the cold darkness cloaked and spun around him. Looking back, the corridor stretched off into darkness, identical to the view in front of him. For half a second Flipsey started to question the direction he was moving in. Peering deeper into the darkness, the shifting depths seemed to form momentary shapes. First a child, then a woman, then a hangman's noose, before swirling once more into black. The edges of Flipsey's vision started to fuzz and blur as if turning to static. He whipped back around as his vision began to distort and bend, the hairs on his neck beginning the rise as the wind began to whistle past him. Hurrying forwards, Flipsey plunged again into the darkness ahead of him, breaking into a mad dash as the laughter of a little girl chased him through the darkness, laughing at his discomfort.

Almost running headlong into the thick iron, vault door at the end of the corridor, Flipsey stopped with a jump. The door before him was in no better condition than the rest of the building. The iron had long since tarnished and a green rust was creeping and spreading along it like a disease. The thick glass porthole at eye level was completely black as no lights shone through from within.

Gripping the door wheel firmly with two hands, Flipsey heaved his weight into it. It took a few seconds for the wheel to start to give but as the rust holding it back broke, the wheel began to turn more easily. With a horrendous scraping squeal, the door swung open and welcomed him inside.