I'm not even sure how long we've been walking. This whole place is just enormous. The tunnels spiral off into more tunnels that spiral off into more. The roof shakes sometimes, no doubt from the battle going on above us.
The whole place has this organic feel to it. If I put my hands on the walls, they feel warm and moist to the touch. There's a heartbeat down here too. The closer we get to the center shaft, the louder it's getting. There are sounds behind the walls too. The smell is getting worse down here too. Everything reeks of meat and rot.
It feels like I'm walking through a corpse.
We started finding side rooms on the way, too. Filled with provisions and such. Lots of medical equipment down here too. Some of the rooms've been carved out and had decent, if crude, electrical lighting installed. One of the rooms was a storage room just filled to the rim with jarred food. At first we were excited. With everything going on, I hadn't thought to each much, and from the look on Deb's face, neither had she.
It was only after we'd cracked open a few jars that we realized that it wasn't food. Er, it was. In a manner of speaking. Jars and jars stacked neatly on the walls, each filled with individually pickled and sorted human body parts. I think I understand what was happening now. They were turning people into those things and slaughtering them. For what, I can only hazard a guess. Frankly, I'd rather not given what I saw at the diner.
We found more of the things locked up in cages. Virgil put them down. I know I should feel better, I mean, they were begging us to do it, but I just don't. I just don't.
I just want to go home. That's the real truth here. I don't want to fucking know anything anymore. All this cult bullshit, the monsters, the conspiracies, it's just so much.
...
I can't stop now, though. I'm in too deep. The center chamber must be close.
We took stock of everything. Maybe a few dozen bullets, a handful of shotgun shells, and whatever we could scrape together out of the storage rooms. Looks like the altar boys didn't think to stock up on guns before they started this whole thing.
Or they did. And we're walking into a trap.
...
Fuck.
