Resident Evil Legends Part Five - City of the Dead

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Resident Evil Legends Part Five - City of the Dead Page 2

by Andreas Leachim


  Chapter 2

  “Man, it stinks down here,” Charlie said, stepping away from the ladder. He sniffed the air and made a disapproving face, shining his flashlight around as his partners came down after him. A rat scurried along the other edge of the sewer tunnel, disappearing into darkness.

  Steve and Benny came down the ladder. All three of them wore dingy orange overalls and white hard hats. A leather satchel hung over Steve’s shoulder and a tool belt full of wrenches clanged at his hip. He shined a flashlight into the recesses of the dark tunnel.

  “You always say it stinks,” Benny said, rubbing his hands together. “Figure you’d be used to the smell by now.”

  “I’ll never get used to it, man.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Steve said. “You ever been to the sewage treatment plant? Now that place smells horrible. I can’t even describe it. It just smells like mildew down here.”

  “You’re just cranky cause we got stuck on third shift,” Benny said.

  “Tell me about it,” Charlie said. “Should be asleep in my bed right now.”

  Together, they walked down the tunnel, their dirty work boots scuffing loudly on the wet concrete, their flashlights piercing the damp darkness. Charlie kicked a stray soda can into a puddle of murky brown water.

  Two hundred feet down the tunnel, they came to an electrical box with rusted edges and a huge padlock hanging on the door. Benny dug out his keys and jingled them loudly in his hand while Steve pointed his flashlight on them.

  “You always do this,” Steve said. “Why don’t you label the damn things?”

  “No fun in that,” Benny said, flipping through the huge ring of keys.

  Charlie sniffed again, still thinking that it stunk down in the sewers no matter what Steve said. The combination of stagnant water, mildew, mold, rotting garbage, and rat droppings just seemed overpowering to him. He swung his flashlight left and right, aiming the beam of light down the long, curved tunnel. Water glistened on the walls, dripping in places.

  “You hear that?” he asked.

  Benny found the key he wanted and stuck it into the padlock. The door to the electrical box opened with a rusty squeak. “Hear what?” he asked.

  “I dunno,” Charlie said. “Sounded like somebody splashing in the water.”

  Steve chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to splash in this water. Who knows what might be floating in it?” He pulled a voltage reader out of his satchel and traced his finger on the electrical diagram on the inside of the box.

  “Yeah,” Benny said. “This place ain’t exactly a public swimming pool.”

  Charlie was about to say something when all three of them were shaken by the sound of a tortured scream echoing down the entire tunnel. The sound echoed in their ears and froze the blood in their veins. Charlie staggered backward, his flashlight shaking in his hand, making the light seem to flicker as if the battery was dying.

  “Jesus, what the hell was that?” Steve asked, stepping away from the box, aiming his flashlight as well. Benny looked over his shoulder and then glanced back behind them.

  “I don’t know,” Charlie whispered. He took a step backward, nervously pawing at his chin. “Listen, let’s get out of here. Let’s call the cops.”

  “You heard that scream?” Benny asked. “Maybe somebody got hurt.”

  “That wasn’t no person screaming.”

  Steve walked a few steps down the tunnel and shouted, “Hey! Is someone down there?” His voice reverberated down the tunnel, repeating the question half a dozen times before it faded into eerie silence.

  “I’m out of here,” Charlie said, turning around and walking quickly past Benny, who grabbed his arm.

  “Come on, man. You’re freaking out.”

  “Damn right, I’m freaking out. I’m telling you, that scream did not come from a person.”

  “Then what was it, the boogeyman?”

  “I don’t care, I’m leaving.”

  Steve ignored the two of them and squinted his eyes, trying to make out a strange shape far down the sewer tunnel, just at the edge of his flashlight’s effectiveness, barely illuminated but still visible. The shape moved slightly, and the faint ray of light revealed something. Steve’s breath caught in his throat and the beam of light wavered as his hand began to shake. Steve was no biologist, but he knew with a terrifying certainty that the creature faintly outlined by his flashlight was not something natural. It wasn’t human, it was something else, something that belonged in a horror movie.

  “What the ...?” Steve whispered, his eyes growing wide. He backed up and stumbled right into Benny and Charlie, before trying to push past them. “Go, go,” he insisted. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Why?” Benny asked, annoyed. “What did you ...”

  The creature loped out of the darkness like a nightmare bursting forth into reality, its human shape distorted by the long arms, shredded clothing, glowing eyes, and a huge pulsing eyeball on its shoulder. It shrieked madly, saliva streaming from its twisted mouth, and its huge arms swung toward the three workers.

  “Jesus Christ!” Charlie screamed, pushing Benny aside and taking off down the tunnel. His work belt clanked hard on his thighs and his hard hat toppled from his head, clattering to the ground behind him. Water splashed under his feet as he ran, his lungs gasping for breath.

  Screams behind him, human screams. He dared not look back, running toward the ladder that led to the surface. He screamed himself then, over and over, praying that the other workers atop the sewer entrance could hear him.

  “Help!” he screamed. “Help me!”

  Something huge landed directly behind him, shaking the ground, and then he was propelled into the air as if struck by a speeding car. He cartwheeled through the tunnel, cracking his head against the concrete ceiling, the tools in his belt flying in all directions like pieces of shrapnel. With a sickening crunch, he landed in a heap, limbs twisted at grisly angles. He gurgled helplessly, feeling blood in his mouth. Gasping for air, he could no longer feel his legs. Blood seemed to flow freely out of his mouth, down the side of his face, his labored breath making bubbles in the torrent of blood.

  “Help me ...” he breathed. But no one was there to help him, and even if someone heard his cries, there was nothing they could do anyway.

 

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