Story 1219: Whisper from the Tunnel

INT. STORM DRAINS – NIGHT

Water dripped endlessly. The stench of mildew and rot clung to the air. Lena led the way, flashlight beam cutting through thick darkness, her fingers trailing along damp, mossy walls.

Behind her, Briggs moaned faintly, delirious. Ward and the Girl shared the weight of his body between them.

WARD (whispering):

“This place is a tomb.”

LENA:

“Good. Maybe the dead will ignore it.”

INT. STORM DRAINS – MOMENTS LATER

They reached a fork. The left tunnel was wide, shallow, filled with old graffiti and bones. The right narrowed sharply, barely big enough to crawl through.

THE GIRL:

“Which way?”

A distant whisper curled through the left tunnel—garbled, yet human.

VOICE (faint, distant):

“…help… please…”

Lena froze. So did Ward.

WARD:

“That’s bait.”

LENA:

“Or it’s real.”

THE GIRL:

“Either way, someone’s still breathing.”

They voted—silently—and turned left.

INT. STORM DRAINS – GRAFFITI PASSAGE