You don’t wake up. You’re already awake. You never wake up.
The alarm keeps blaring, the lights are flickering.
You open the cold steel doors.
Diamond shaped things that could crush every bone in you.
You’re running hallway to hallway trying to avoid it.
You saw it go into a vent, it’s real, oh god it’s real.
This is why the bunker is in full panic.
Focus on where you are. Concrete walls, unpainted.
Next door is a rocky corner that isn’t even reinforced with anything.
Where you came from is a large, unused train station.
Tracks run all the way into here, but you’ve never seen them used.
You’re not sure it’s for passangers, maybe it’s for cargo.
Doesn’t matter.
To the left is a fork in the path, leading to a barricaded door.
In front of the door is .. nevermind. Not now.
Next to you is an air conditioner unit, happily humming.
Across, in the corners, is a grass area, delimited by glass.
How does that work?
You go forward into the rocky area.
You come across, oh god, that thing.
It doesn’t see you, or it can’t see at all.
But it definitely can lunge at you.
The room is cut by a weird ventilation shaft.
You go under it, carefully.
It moves slightly, as if readying itself to jump.
You book it out of the room.
You run past puddles of it. It’s everywhere, oh god.
It’s starting to jump after you, leaving marks on everything it touches.
You’re running through long straight hallways, glass on both sides.
You squeeze through a door, it slams shut.
You’re fine. That wasn’t fine. It got slammed by the door.
You’re now in a large open area, outside of the waste processor, the sewer.
It’s empty here, awfully calm, concrete towers looming over.
Long drop to the bottom, the labs had the decency to put railings.
On the other side it leads to the train station. Useless. Go down.
Making your way to the usual bridge, it’s half collapsed.
Someone was nice enough to place a plank over the gap, unsafe as it might be.
You cross it, careful to not end up as waste down below.
You get to the ramps leading down, you can slide down them.
Boxes cover each corner.
You’re not sure what’s in them, but best not to look.
Down a level, a puddle rears its head. But it’s white this time?
Holding onto the railing, you drop down.
There’s no waste, the concrete is dry, stained. Smells just the same.
Vaulting over the catway, you come across the large tunnel.
Canal? A boat could fit in here, if there were water.
Being right under the station, this should follow the tracks.
And so, you start following it too.
You hear a whistle, followed by shaking grounds.