Chapter 295

The sewers of New York had always been a labyrinth, a city beneath the city, out of sight and out of mind. They were forgotten, abandoned by the masses who never gave a thought to the dark, damp tunnels. But something had changed. People began disappearing. They weren't the usual runaways or drunks. They vanished from their homes, their workplaces. A phone call, a note, maybe nothing at all. Gone. Silent.

Detective Maria Kovacs had seen things before. The seedy side of New York was no stranger to her. But this? This was different. She stood at the edge of the sewer entrance on 34th Street, watching the heavy black grate.

It wasn't the first time a case had led her to the sewers, but it was the first time that she didn't feel a little disgusted. There was a strange stillness here, a sharp kind of quiet that made her feel small. It gnawed at the back of her skull, that feeling of being watched, of being observed from beneath.

She didn't know how many had gone missing now. Five? Six? It didn't matter. They all had one thing in common: they were last seen near the entrances to the tunnels. At first, it had been dismissed as coincidence. But when the disappearances started to pile up, Maria knew something had to be wrong. She had to find out what.

The officers had found nothing. Not a footprint. Not a shred of evidence. It was as though they had just disappeared, vanished without a trace. But she had an idea, a sick feeling, something gnawing at her gut. And it was in the sewers.

Maria glanced down at the ground. There was a faint streak of dark red near the edges of the grate. She knelt down, reaching her fingers to the stain. Blood. Not fresh, not in a way that would make her heart race with panic, but still. The thought of it made her stomach churn.

She stood up and walked closer to the grate, peering down into the abyss below. The air felt wrong, and the stench from below wasn't the usual foul, musty rot. It was different. It felt older, like it had been stewing down there for decades, centuries. The smell crawled up her throat. She took a deep breath, preparing herself.

Someone had to go down there.

"I'm going in," she muttered under her breath, her voice rough, even to herself. There was no time to waste. The city wouldn't wait for her to figure it out. She reached for her radio and called for backup. She couldn't do this alone. Not now.

The tunnel entrance was darker than she'd imagined. The stone walls stretched away, disappearing into shadows. Her flashlight illuminated the grime and filth clinging to the walls, the murky water running beneath her boots.

She moved cautiously at first, each step echoing loudly in the stillness. She could feel the weight of the place pressing down on her, the oppressive feeling of something just out of reach, watching her.

She didn't know why, but the deeper she went, the more she felt it—something had been here. Something had been waiting. She couldn't explain it. There were no signs. No scratches or marks. Just the cold, suffocating silence.

At first, it was easy. She moved through the winding tunnels with practiced precision, scanning the walls for any sign of disturbance. The air was thick with moisture, thick with decay.

Then she noticed it.

A faint rustling from ahead. A scrape, as though something was dragging along the stone. Her heart stilled. She turned toward the sound. There was nothing in sight. Nothing to explain it. Yet, the feeling in her chest deepened, hollowed out. The strange sensation that something was moving, just beyond her reach, twisted her insides.

Her flashlight beam flickered, and she shook it, trying to make it steady again. The tunnel stretched ahead, the beam reflecting off wet walls, barely illuminating the path ahead. A breeze swept through the tunnel—cold, unnatural. It made her skin crawl. She turned a corner, the narrow space squeezing in on her.

And then she saw it.

A dark, twisted figure in the shadows, half-glimpsed in the corner of her vision. She froze, every muscle in her body seizing up. It wasn't human. Not fully. The shape of it was wrong, too angular, like the outline of something that didn't belong.

Her pulse quickened. She couldn't make out its face, but she could feel its eyes on her, the weight of its gaze pressing down.

Her breathing was uneven. She took a step back, slowly, cautiously, afraid of drawing attention. The figure didn't move. It simply stood there, waiting. Watching. She could feel its presence like a weight against her chest.

She didn't know why, but she took another step forward. Her instincts screamed at her to turn and run, but something, some part of her, held her in place. She raised the flashlight again, its light trembling in her grip.

The figure was gone.

Her heart slammed into her ribs. The air was thick with an unsettling silence. She reached out, searching the space ahead of her, but there was nothing there. Nothing at all.

A noise from behind her. A quick shuffle, too fast for her to react to.

She whipped around, but there was nothing. Nothing except the tunnel, stretching back into darkness. She was alone.

Another noise. This time, it wasn't behind her. It was in front of her. She froze again, listening. The faint sound of something moving through the water, dragging, scraping. Then silence.

The silence stretched, and Maria couldn't breathe. Her flashlight swept over the ground, revealing only filth and grime, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being followed.

She wasn't alone.

Her radio crackled, but it didn't offer the comfort she'd hoped for. There was only static on the other end, sharp and crackling, then a voice she couldn't understand. She cursed under her breath, trying to make sense of it, but nothing came through. It cut off abruptly.

Her steps faltered. Something felt wrong. She had been down here too long, and there was no sign of anyone else. No backup. No answers.

Another scrape. A heavier sound this time. The unmistakable sound of something dragging its feet across stone. Maria's heart thudded against her chest, the sensation of being trapped settling over her like a heavy weight. She turned, her flashlight flickering, casting uneven beams of light across the walls.

She saw them.

A pair of eyes, glowing faintly from the shadows, watching her. There was no body, no face, just the eyes, and they were too many. Too many, too bright, and too knowing.

They moved toward her, slow, deliberate, emerging from the darkness. There was no way to run. No escape. The tunnel had become a trap, a labyrinth closing in.

Maria didn't scream. She didn't make a sound. She simply stood there, paralyzed by the gaze of the things coming from the deep. She had read about them, heard rumors of the things that lived in the tunnels below. People said they were part of the city, remnants of something long forgotten. But she hadn't believed them.

Now, she understood.

They came closer, their forms twisting and shifting like shadows given shape. And then, without a word, they surrounded her. The last thing she saw was the eyes—their endless, gleaming eyes, filling her vision until everything else faded away.

She didn't feel the cold hand that grasped her arm. She didn't feel the sharp bite of teeth sinking into her flesh. She didn't feel anything as she was pulled deeper into the darkness.

And when the others came looking, all they found was an empty space. A single, bloodstained boot. A shred of clothing.

Maria Kovacs was gone.