We turned a corner and became engulfed in darkness. All I could hear were our sloshing footsteps and occasional exhaled breaths. After a few more minutes of walking, we finally entered a lighter hallway.
"Oh God, a sewer," Mark grumbled, looking back and glaring at me. "Why'd you have to pick a sewer, huh? There's nothing good about a sewer. It's dark. It's dirty. It's damp. Ugh."
"Stop being such a drama king about it," I snapped. "We either jumped down here and got out alive, or went into a firefight with decade-old weapons that were most likely props and got ourselves killed." He looked a little surprised that I had spoken up at all, shrugged a bit, then looked forward.
"Oh, well, well, well. Looks like our luck might be changing. I think the tunnel splits off two different ways down here," he said, gesturing to the split path with his flashlight. "So, Charlotte--what?" I heard someone screaming and, not wanting to be found, went to dive into the pile of garbage bags that was to my immediate left.
"No, not this time. Me!"
Mark all but shoved me out of the way and dove into the pile. I scrambled to hide around the corner, putting one hand over my mouth to silence my panicked breathing. I heard the panicked footsteps of someone being chased and, as I peered out of my hiding spot, noticed a security guard - the source of the screams - sprinting down the path from the darker tunnel, looking back at whatever was chasing him.
I exhaled slowly and emerged from my hiding place, looking over at Mark, who was doing his best impression of a trash bag. Once he noticed me staring at him, he climbed out, brushed off the garbage, and raised an eyebrow at me.
"You wanted me to do that, didn't you?" I shook my head.
"I was more than happy to take the garbage on this one, but you stopped me," I replied, raising my hands in surrender.
"Well, could you hand me that rag behind you?" He pointed behind me. I turned around and looked for the rag, and when I was unable to find it, I turned back around. Mark was already wiping his face with it. I sputtered a bit like an engine unable to start and rubbed my eyes. Mark was wearing a grey suit and his hair was slicked back. I stared at him with wide eyes.
Why did he look so familiar in that suit...?
"Thanks, buddy. All right." He threw the rag away and started down the tunnel. "Now, whatever that guy was running from, I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad."
He was interrupted by growling, the security guard's screams, and the sounds of flesh being ripped apart. I winced and looked away until the sounds stopped, gagging slightly.
"Uh, or, uh, at least it didn't sound that close. So, um, let's just keep moving." We reached the end of the passage, and Mark looked down each side of the split path.
"And it looks like we've got two choices in front of us," he said, standing in front of me and holding out his hands like he was offering me the pills in the Matrix. "The dark tunnel that the security guard just ran down from and then screamed and then died in, or the light tunnel where there's possibly an end to it where it might drain to an escape so we can be scot-free and enjoy our loot. Well, which is it gonna be? Both are good options. Take your pick. You haven't steered me wrong... yet."
YOU ARE READING
Confessions of a Corpse
Fanfiction[REUPLOADED FROM MY ALT ACCOUNT, @Beebs_the_writer] The District Attorney didn't want to die. The District Attorney didn't want to disappear. The District Attorney wanted only one thing. They wanted ANSWERS. And they'd do anything to get them.
