In Memoriam - An Unus Annus Fanfiction

21.11 - 11/21 - The Worst Kind of Cupping

WARNING: (SLIGHT) HORROR

The stench of foul water and sewerage brought tears to Annus' eyes. He tried not to breathe to deeply, and looked down the sewer tunnel. After a few meters, the concrete walls and the brown water vanished into pitch black darkness.

Conveniently, there was a flashlight laying on the ground right next to the ladder. He picked it up, mumbling to himself. »I swear to God if the rooms ahead loop I will find a way to tear this whole place apart.«

As he walked into the darkness, he heard Darks voice echoing through the tunnels. »I am surprised how well you dealt with that situation, my friend. Maybe it's time you meet a person very dear to me, after all.«

Annus tried to ignore him. This situation was already bad enough without some lunatic stuck in his edgy vampire phase whispering into his ear. His attention got directed to something else anyway, as he heard a faint noise coming from afar.

He stopped to listen. It sounded like a woman was crying, the tunnel walls echoing her quiet sobs. The hairs on his neck stood up. The crying sent shivers down his spine. It was a frustrated wailing, as if someone was having a breakdown in these sewers.

He progressed slowly, his instincts telling him that something was wrong. Something moved in the few memories he had inherited from Mark. The weeping seemed familiar, but he couldn't recall why.

He limped around a corner and froze. A woman was standing near a small table. There was a room down here, the few pieces of furniture dirty and rotten. Her matted hair obscured most of her face, and she was dressed in a dirty, torn dress with star pattern. The woman rocked on her heels, whispering to herself.

A metal can, apparently repurposed as a mug, was resting on the table. Although he really hoped it wasn't the case, sadly the can seemed to be filled with sewerage water. The stench it radiated left little room for denying what else was floating in the mug.

Turn the light off. The thought hit him like an oncoming train. He pushed the button of the flashlight just as the woman turned her head into his direction. She stumbled towards his general direction, without breaking her crying. The sounds echoed through the dark tunnels, and Annus realized that she hadn't been crying at all. She had made the sounds, sure, but that was it.

He held his breath as the woman drew closer. On the narrow pathway he was standing on, there was no way to back up. Instead, he pressed himself against the wet walls, hoping that she would not touch him. As she walked by him, he could catch a glimpse of her face. She must have been a pretty girl once, and for a second, he felt a strange familiarity.

She passed him, so close that he could see her bloodcrusted face in the dim light. Trying to stay silent, he entered the room, walking with his back against the wall.

The witch made off into the other direction, and Annus allowed himself to breathe. That had been way too close for comfort. He turned the flashlight back on, and walked over to the table. Words were edged into the wood right next to the can.

He tried to make sense of the scratches. Like strange runes they covered one spot on the table. He thought that he could make out some letters. C, E, and L.
These letters had been edged into the rotten wood over and over again. Cel. As he wondered what it might mean, his eyes wandered to another, far more interesting note.

An arrow was pointing at the left wall. He walked over, and found a loose brick. He pushed against it, and it fell through. A path. There was only one problem. Taking that way would mean that he would have to make noise. A lot of noise, to be precise.

He looked over his shoulder. The woman was already a good part down the way he came from, but she had stopped when the brick fell. Making more noise would surely lure her back to him.

There had to be a way to deal with her. Annus sneaked over to the cabinet that was standing behind the table, carefully opening it. He flinched when a skeleton hand fell out. The attached skeleton had been stuffed into the tight space in fetal position.

He opened up the drawer above it. As he saw what else was in there, he had an idea. It was crazy, stupid and insane, but it might work. The creature seemed dumb, or at least blind enough to fall for what he had planned.