The journey into the bowels of Gotham City takes a decidedly somber turn after our macabre find. Not that it was exactly a stroll through a sunlit meadow to start with, since we were on the trail of what I can only describe as a bioterrorist mass murderer, but nothing like finding human remains to put things in perspective. Even Sutton seems to be subdued, and I can't imagine this is the worst thing he's seen during his years on the street. The tunnel seems to creep on almost endlessly, and even the noise of the city above have long since faded into nothing, leaving nothing but the sound of our own footsteps to keep us company in the small circle of light that my Candlelight spell can provide.
The footprints still show up sporadically, wherever the ancient filth covering the floor is thick enough to retain them. There hasn't been any more teeth accompanying them, but every now and then, I spot a few stains in the grime that stands out with their rusty red coloring. Dried blood, more likely than not. Whoever was being taken down here was not in good shape. And the size of the person doing the taking... Well, the lack of noise really let's the mind wander.
I know not everything I remember from DC media is going to line up with the physical reality of this world, but 30 years of comic books and cartoons are going to leave their mark. The first name that pops into my mind is Killer Croc. Sewers, human victims, really fucking big, it makes sense. But whoever is moving around down here is wearing boots, not leaving prints of bare feet, much less the feet of a terrifying crocodile man. I do vaguely remember that in the early days, Waylon Jones was just a mobster who happened to look like a goddamned monster, so he didn't just walk around in ragged pants like The Hulk with a skin condition and bad teeth, but if he exists in this world, and it matches his comic origin, why would he be down here in the first place? And if he IS the animalistic Croc, why would he be wearing boots?
Who else? Bane, maybe? But that doesn't line up either, the only versions of Bane I remember being this size is the one from the Arkham Asylum games and that early 2000's cartoon with the cell phone Bat Signal and Dreadlocks Joker... who was barefoot all the time for some reason. And at any rate, again if it correpsonds at all with the comics, Bane should still be stuck in Santa Prisca, Batman was like on his third Robin by the time they fought. And he's definetly not the type to be doing the dirty work of some random mad scientist anyway.
Shit, the only other person I can think of is Grundy, he did show up in the sewers a few times in the comics, but why would he bother? He didn't seem the least bit inclined to leave Slaughter Swamp when I met him, and even less likely to go looking for victims to drag down here. I mean, he wasn't exactly peaceful, but not murderous either. I guess it could still be him, but I can't think of a reason why he'd be down here. Does he even wear boots, now that I think about it? Everytime I've met him, he's been ankle-deep in swamp muck...
No, I don't think it's any of them. But something about all this feels strangely familiar... not anything from the common Batman stuff, though. Gah, it's right on the edge of my memory, what WAS it? Something about-
A hand brushes across my shoulder, and I nearly leap out of my boots, yanking myself around with a fist raised, only to come face to face with a wide-eyed Arnold, who quickly holds his hands up in a pacifying gesture.
"Jesus, it's just me, Flagg! Peace!"
I blink, lowering my fist before shaking my head apologetically "S-sorry about that, I think I got a bit caught up in my thoughts for a moment. What's up?"
"Well, I just thought of something... It's pretty much pitch dark down here, there's no distinguishing marks or signs or anything except the footprints, and we don't have any idea where this tunnel actually leads. What if we can't find our way back to the surface? Should we, I don't know, try to leave marks as we go or something?"
I shrug, making the Candlelight twirl around my head "You can if you want, but getting out of here is no problem, I can simply create a portal to take us back to the surface." I pause, thinking it over "...though I guess it's still possible that I die down here, which would leave you in a tight spot. So, you know, it's up to you."
Sutton gives me a blank stare for a moment, before turning to the wall to the right, digging out a rusty old pocket knife from the inside of his coat, and digging a crude X into the brickwork...
......
"I think I see something up ahead..." Sutton whispers behind me, and I dismiss the Candlelight, plunging the tunnel into darkness. Except rather than total darkness, we're left in a twilit gloom, a tiny amount of light coming from somewhere in front of us. A bit further ahead, the tunnel opens up into a small, round space, with an opening on the far wall. There's something hanging in front of it, forming a flimsy barrier which on closer inspection turns out to be a heavy drape made from dirt-covered cloth, covered with some kind of faded print which the dark around us makes impossible to read. The fabric is ragged and torn, allowing a few streaks of dim light to push through.
I glance back at Sutton, who nods, before I tug at the fabric, parting the barrier and giving us a first glimpse on what lies on the other side...
!!!
"Hey man, what the hell?!" Sutton yelps as I nearly knock him over in my hurry to scurry backwards, away from the scarred and horrific face that just popped into view! For moment, I'm almost certain I just ran right into Two-Face, despite how little sense that makes. However, as soon as I bump into Sutton, I manage to snap back to my senses, and I register what I actually just saw. A few feet away from the entrance, in front of what looks like to have been a carnival booth of some sort, stands a human-sized dummy or mannequin, a few rotting rags hanging from it's frame. The right side of it's face, along with the arm, has been burned in some long-ago fire, the arm so scorched it's little more than metal wire and wooden bone. The booth behind it seems to have suffered the same fate, the structure half-collapsed and the large sign that had once hung above it now burned beyond recognition.
"Shit, sorry about that, Arnold" I look back at Sutton, who's steadying himself and looking out through the parted drapes, his eyes widening as he spots the mannequin "That thing just scared the hell out of me, I was NOT expecting a jumpscare all the way down here..."
"Hell, you and me both" Sutton says, walking closer to the entrance and peering through "What's this thing even doing down here?"
"Well, if I was a betting man..." I answer, grabbing ahold of the other side of the drapes and pull them back, revealing a cobbled street that's mostly blocked off by rubble and collapsed buildings, a dented lamp post sticking out from the closest debris. A few other booths, in similar state of ruin as the one with the mannequin, lie burned and broken around the street, and just up ahead, something that looks like a mix between a radio tower and a carnival ride towers above the few intact buildings, a few faded rags that might once have been flags or banners hanging from the metal girders. Right in the middle of the street, stretching out between the "legs" of the tower, runs a small, shallow canal of filthy water, the sound of the tainted river being the only noise I can hear as it disappears deeper into the ruins.
"...I'd say the Gotham World's Fair has missed it's last few safety inspections!"
...
"This is nuts! I've heard stories about the old World's Fair, but I had no idea it was actually still down here! Looks like it's seen better days too..."
He's not kidding, the ruins near the sewer tunnel are just the beginning. Beyond the metal tower, the former fairgrounds lie in near-complete ruin, most of the old attractions and displays so damaged from the fire and ensuing century of decay that it's almost impossible to tell what they used to be. Dozens of other mannequins are spread out across the street, most of them little more than wireframes by now, a few strips of fabric giving any indication of what their costumes had once been. One dummy, lying face down in the filthy canal water, might have been a futuristic police officer, judging by the remains of a blue uniform with rusted copper buttons, and the melted lump of what might once have been a fake gun still clutched in one hand. Another, leaning against the scorched remains of a wagon with some sort of storage tank on the back, seems to ironically have been a fire fighter. Who for some reason seems to have a wing harness strapped to his back? Man, people in the 19th century had some crazy expectations of the future...
Above us, the ceiling is a patchwork of pipes and wires, stretching in and out of the old buildings and up into the stone "sky" of this underground world. Somewhere far in the distance, I hear a faint rumbling noise, and for a second, I almost think we're about to have an earthquake and get a preview of No Man's Land, until I realize that what I'm hearing is the sound of a subway train!
"Shit, is that the subway?" Sutton asks, having reached the same conclusion "Man, no wonder no one's found this place in so long, it's like a labyrinth down here! You see any traces of the guy we're looking for?"
I stop, taking a look around, and I realize I haven't seen any more footprints since we got out of the tunnel. The fairgrounds aren't exactly clean, but they're not caked with grime either, and most of the rubble isn't soft enough to leave prints. Still, there's not a lot of open space down here, and most of the remaining buildings are either sealed off or caved in, so there's a limit to where he could have gone...
"Let's try following the river, it has to lead somewhe-" I say, taking a step towards the canal, and promptly feel the cobblestones beneath me give way! Something brushes against the back of my jacket, and a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye tells me it was Sutton trying to grab ahold of me just a second too late. A hole opens up in the street as the ground swallows me and I drop down towards whatever lies beneath!
"Flagg! FLAGG!!"
...
The protective magic on my skin means that the impact doesn't actually hurt, but it's still jarring enough that it takes me a few moments to get my head together. I push myself to my knees, brushing the dirt from my face as I go, before looking around, trying to figure out where the hell I am. It's dark down here, almost as dark as the tunnel, but I can't quite-
"Flagg?! You okay?! Shit, don't tell me he died!" Suttons voice comes from above, and I look up, seeing his silhouette against the light coming in from the hole I just fell through. A few stray pebbles come loose from the edge, bouncing against my forehead as they tumble down.
"I'm fine, the fall just winded me a little! Stay away from the edge, if the hole gets any wider, you'll just end up down here too!"
I can see him shrink back a little "Can you see anything? What's down there?"
"Not much, it's pitch black down here, but I think-" I say, just as my fingers brush against something wet. I recoil, and it's only now that I notice the sound. A dripping noise, water drops splashing against the surface of a much larger body. And there's something else too. There's a smell down here. A stench just strong enough to be noticable over the scent of mint from the salve on my nose. It's not sewage, either. That's rot. There's something dead down here...
I squint, trying to make anything out in the gloom, but the light from above just isn't enough to illuminate anything beyond what's right beneath it. I think I'm in a cave or something, but that's all I can tell. I focus, whispering the right word, and my Candlelight reappears, casting a glow out across the darkness. The first thing I notice is the reflection of the light bouncing against the black surface of a lake, stretching out further than I can see. The second thing is-
I feel my breath catch in my throat.
The second thing I notice is the grinning face of a corpse staring back at me, partially submerged in the water, the head sticking out enough to show a rictus grin, and an empty eye socket. The sole remaining eye seems to stare right at me. The glow from my Candlelight seems to color the rotting skin a ghastly white, and for one horrible second, it's not the face of a corpse at all, but the face of a clown. A very familiar clown.
"We all float down here, Flagg..." An inhuman voice says from some other place "You'll float too..."
And then, there's a new sound. Not a voice, or the sound of dripping water. It's footsteps. The steps of heavy cowboy boots, walking along a deserted highway in the dead of night. Somewhere far away, in another time and place, a Dark Man is heading west...
A small pebble bounces off the top of my head, and suddenly, everything seems to snap back into place. The clown with the too-wide smile and hellish red hair is a corpse again, just a corpse, nothing else. And the sound of booted feet in the dark is just the drumming of my own heartbeat in my ears. I'm in an underground pit with a dead man, and I never thought that would be a relief.
"Flagg?!" Sutton yells from above "What's going on down there? You just cut off!"
"S-Sorry, Arnold" I answer back, trying to force my voice to remain steady "I just had a nasty discovery. I think we just found where our suspect has been dumping his victims when he's done with them! See if you can find a rope or something!"
I hear Sutton shuffle away from the hole, leaving me behind, and I take the opportunity to catch my breath.
What the hell did I just see?1068