“No one wants to go down there, but it has to be done.”
Despite the fact that I was already cold, incredibly tired, and my stomach was growling, I shrugged and began climbing. I knew that it would be unpleasant—that I would smell wretched—and with how late it was, I probably wouldn't be able to finish the job. But I was too tired to argue.
The ladder rungs were cold and slippery as I descended. True to the nature of the place, I was greeted by an unlovable stench. Finally, I reached the bottom and switched on my headlamp.
“How far is the blockage?” I shouted up.
I heard the distant rustling of the others checking the maps. There was an uncomfortable pause.
“Take the left tunnel and keep going, you can’t miss it!”
I let out a self-pitying sigh, already regretting my choice.
I went on for maybe ten minutes before I saw something. Usually, I do not listen to spook stories about the sewer. They never did me any good. In fact, the whole idea of those legends was probably just an attempt to keep the public out of the city works.
But I swear I saw something. Something in those tunnels that should not have been there. Being the fool that I am, I followed it.
Ahead of me was an eerie blueish light. It did not shine like any light bulb I had seen, instead pulsing gently. It was coming from some point around the next bend, so I followed it instead of my original course.
Then I heard something, or someone rather. There was something like a choked sob, echoing faintly, as if someone wanted to cry but no longer had the strength to do so any longer. Grasping my crowbar tightly, I crept forward doing my best not to splash.
As I approached, the sobs were clearer and I realized that there were several voices. I felt my stomach twist as I turned that corner. At that moment, I forgot about the stench, my weariness, and the cold. The feeble light from my headlamp cast its rays upon a sight that was irrevocably burned into my mind.
I saw three of them, humanoid in the fact that they stood upright and had arms ending in hands, but beyond that, the similarity died. They were covered in slimy, grey flesh that reminded me of blubber. Their heads were smooth and blank, devoid of features like ears, nose, mouth, or eyes. Veins pulsed across their bodies with that unnatural light. They didn’t seem to notice me.
I nearly dropped the crowbar when I saw the source of the sobbing. There were nearly a dozen people tied to an overhanging pipe by their feet. And what was being done to three of them resists description. Each of the creatures had their thumbs firmly jabbed in their eye sockets. To my horror, I found that none of the captives had eyes, only bloody, grimy pits. How they were still alive in these conditions escaped me. Those being tortured still twitched feebly, making pitiful sobs.
I took an involuntary step backward, splashing. None of the creatures moved, apparently intent on their purpose. However, one of the prisoners moved.
“Is someone there?” He croaked. “Hello?” The other prisoners started whispering various pleas. Yet the creatures did not move.
Then one of the victims screamed, “RUN!”
As one, the faceless things turned in my direction, removing their thumbs with a horrid squelching sound. In that dim light, I noticed that their thumbs did not end in a fingertip as their other digits did, but a sadistic barbed claw.
One walked toward me, arms outstretched. Now standing, I realized that it was taller than I. But I had some advantages. Namely, sight and my crowbar.
I had brought the tool, expecting to break down some branches washed in from a storm drain. As I looked at that bland visage, I realized that I wanted nothing more than to break open its serene countenance. So, as it came in range, I swung with all the strength my tired body lent me.
The hooked end connected, driving deep into the fleshy mass. Glowing, blueish blood spurted from the wound as the creature flailed in panic. In the midst of its throes, the crowbar was yanked out of my hands, as it was still lodged in the creature’s head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the other creatures backing away from me and their fallen brother. The eyeless captives started shouting, but their voices were little more than raspy whispers echoing weirdly in an unintelligible chorus. After gingerly retrieving the crowbar, I approached the nearest prisoner.
To say he was in bad shape would be putting it lightly. The wounds in his eyes looked dry and scabby. His tattered clothes smelled almost as foul as the sewer itself. His arms were bound uselessly to his sides with strips of fabric. I set to work untying his feet, lowering his body as gently as I could.
Immediately I realized my mistake, as my tired limbs could barely support the weight. I resolved to get help, I was almost useless in this state anyway. Those around me were still babbling, but as clearly as possible, I tried to convey that I was leaving to bring helpers. This brought mixed responses varying from pleas to stay, to encouragement to leave while I still could. But one voice stood out.
“Yes, bring more, more! They shall see too!”
I looked for the source of the voice. “Who said that!” I shouted. The majority flinched and became more or less silent at my outburst. However, one person began laughing, an unhealthy sound more akin to coughing than an expression of joy.
The figure swayed side to side, humming manically. I kept my distance. “What do you mean, they will see?”
“No more lights! No more skies! The only truth in a world of lies!” His voice broke off into more raspy laughter.
“Explain.” Putting aside my earlier caution, I began untying the speaker. “What are these things?”
The last knot slipped free. I tried my best to slow his descent, but I was already feeling numb, and in the darkness, my grip failed. The prisoner splashed down gracelessly.
“I have seen sights. Sights that I had thought lost, felt things I could not remember! Dark, beautiful memories of a life I no longer want. They showed me. They showed me that and more-”
“Save yourself!” Cried the victim from earlier. “You need to leave before they reach you!”
It was at that moment, when I looked back at the man on the ground and saw something unnatural.
His thumb was wrong. It was as if the nail had become ambitious, claiming the rest of the digit until it resembled the horrid claws of those creatures. I almost did not process the fact that he had stood up until it was too late. With unexpected vigor, he charged at me, knocking me down into the muck.
“You can see too!” He cackled. “You can be like us!”
In the fall, I lost my headlamp, and with it, my vision. A heartbeat later, I felt the claw sink into my right eye.
At first it was sheer pain. An unstoppable wave of burning agony that filled my consciousness. And then I saw.
I saw my hand singing the papers as my heart broke. I saw the open casket with my sister inside. I saw the dark hallway from my childhood home. I saw the pain, and lived it afresh.
And suddenly I could see again. With my left eye, anyway. In front of me was my boss, bloody wrench in hand. My attacker was splayed out on the ground, head twisted in an unnatural direction. Around me, I saw the lights from my coworkers, heard curses of horror.
I don’t remember much else of what happened after that.
I was taken to a hospital, but my eye was beyond repair. I don’t know where the prisoners ended up. I didn’t ask. I quit my job with the city works, but in every shadow, I saw them. The faceless things, waiting for me. Waiting for my memories, wanting to claim my humanity.
I have since purchased a firearm, but it doesn’t help with the nightmares.