Below the city lies a place not quite a basement. Not quite a lab. Not entirely a prison either. But it carried pieces of all three put together in a one big scary gloomy place. It was like it came straight out of a horror story with a mad scientist, a wicked, thrilling ghosts and a sadists playroom.
The walls are really damp and made out of stone bricks, slick with condensation that glistened under the sallow flicker of a single, hanging bulb. It swayed slightly, casting long, distorted shadows that crawled like specters across the floor. The light was sickly disgusting yellow, like old bruises, and buzzed with a tired hum, a sound that grew louder the longer you sat in the silence. It was a sound that burrowed into your bones.
The air was thick. Stale, with the sour tang of rust and something deeper… the metallic stench of old blood clinging to the cracks in the floor. You could taste it at the back of your throat if you breathed too deep.
