Phantasia

“You spend too much time around Orpheus,” mumbled Phoenie. This whole ‘God of Darkness’ thing struck her as nothing more than superstitious nonsense. Ghosts and monsters were one thing, but an all-powerful entity behind them all was about as far-fetched as the idea of an all-powerful, all-benevolent entity behind humanity – and that idea had died out long ago.

“Don’t bring Dante into this,” replied Kat, giving Phoenie the narrow eyed treatment. Wanting to avoid another confrontation over the attention-seeking schizophrenic, Phoenie wandered away from the stage and over to John, who was scanning the dirty walls with his gadgets.

“I figure this place would’ve been some kind of lobby for the underground shelter network,” he said, “The main shelter network should be below, which I assume is where we’re headed,”

“Dude, there’s like a whole labyrinth under this place,” said Joel bounding over a leather sofa to reach them, “The guys that run this place went and blocked most of it off, though, which totally sucks ’cause I proper want to explore it,”

“It’ll just be filled with rats and cobwebs,” said Lyra, “Don’t be thinking it were just people who sheltered themselves down here,”

“Lyra’s right,” said John, “Shelter networks date back to the Old World. People who weren’t evacuated to the cities were forced to build them to survive the Cataclysm, but it didn’t do them much good in the long run. I’d hate to think of some of the abominations that might have survived deep down inside the various shelters that run underneath the earth…”

“Don’t start telling me people dug their way into Hell,” said Theseus.

“More like they created Hell,” replied John, “My old man’s told me some stories of mutants and monstrosities he’s had to research for Mr Payne. Nothing local, mind – he said Godhand made sure these catacombs were purged,”

“Like we can trust them,” said Phoenie, “They probably had their own monsters hiding down here!”

“I think it’s more likely they used the passageways for arms smuggling,” said John, “Theseus, I don’t know if you remember what we found underneath their manor…”

“I told you already, I remember everything,” he replied, “Makes sense if they had some underground base it was built from these shelters or whatever,”

“Arms smuggling and demons, what a combination,” said Phoenie, “If only we’d known about this underworld sooner! We must make it our mission to catalogue the mysteries that dwell beneath our homes – and we can start right now!”

They were bound end up exploring filthy, cold corridors filled with stuffy air and the smell of stale urine. Had Phoenie known from the start just what a squat this place was she would have insisted on wearing a respirator. Joel took the lead in directing the group further into the underground and Phoenie braced herself for what lie ahead.

The corridors lived up to her expectations so well, she began to wonder if she’d been here before and ‘forgotten’ about it. The floor, black and uneven as if someone had painted over uneven granite, was a mosaic of dirty footprints, cigarette butts and pools of water that congregated from dripping pipes above while the walls, a patchwork of gunmetal grey and rotting ivory, were marked with the same repetitive graffiti that covered the rest of the club. Crude signs hung on chains from the piping, acting as guides for the drunken idiots shambling their way through the catacombs like giant rats, pointing the way to bathrooms Phoenie hoped she would never witness and recreational facilities she didn’t want to imagine. When Joel paused at a door and prised it open with his boot, she was reluctant to look inside.

Chapter 48
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