I’ve been on the force for over a decade, but nothing could have prepared me for the horrors lurking beneath the city’s surface. The case started like any other missing persons report—routine, with a hint of despair. But when the numbers started to climb, patterns emerged, leading us to the city’s veins: the sewers.
The first time I descended into that underworld, I was met with the stench of decay and the sound of water dripping into eternity. My flashlight barely pierced the darkness, casting long shadows that seemed to move just beyond the edge of visibility. I told myself it was my imagination, the trickery of a mind not used to the oppressive darkness.
We found the first signs of them on our second descent—a series of makeshift shelters cobbled together from trash and debris. It was clear something lived here, something that wanted to stay hidden. The air was thick with the scent of mold and something else—something foul, a smell I couldn’t place but that filled me with dread.
It was deeper in the labyrinth of tunnels that we found the first body, or what was left of it. The remains were partially submerged in murky water, surrounded by an array of strange markings etched into the wet walls. The flesh had been stripped clean in places, bones gleaming white in the beam of my flashlight. But it was the expression on what remained of the face that haunts me—a silent scream of eternal terror.
The evidence suggested an attack, but by what, we couldn’t fathom. Wild animals didn’t venture this deep, and no human could inflict such savagery with such precision. That’s when we heard it for the first time—the sound of something moving in the darkness, a splash followed by a guttural growl that seemed to come from all around us.
Panic set in, the primal part of our brains screaming to flee, to escape the unseen predator. We retraced our steps, but the labyrinthine sewers betrayed us, paths twisting into dead ends and circles. The growling grew closer, accompanied now by the sound of heavy, dragging steps and the occasional glimpse of something moving just beyond the light.
It was then, backed into a corner with nowhere to run, that they emerged from the shadows. Creatures that defied nature, their bodies twisted and malformed, skin a patchwork of scales and sores. Their eyes glowed with a hunger that was almost human, but their faces were the stuff of nightmares, a grotesque mimicry of the people they once might have been.
They were the missing, transformed by something in the depths, something that had changed them into monsters of flesh and shadow. They didn’t attack at first, instead watching us with a curiosity that was unsettling. It was only when we attempted to leave, to bring this horror to the light, that they attacked.
I don’t know how I escaped. The memories are a blur of adrenaline, fear, and the overwhelming will to survive. I remember running, the sounds of my team members’ screams echoing off the walls, and then daylight, blinding and pure.
The official report says nothing of the creatures, only that the missing were victims of an unfortunate series of accidents in the sewers. My superiors warned me to stay silent, to forget what I saw for the sake of my career, my sanity.
But silence is a luxury I can no longer afford. The creatures are still down there, multiplying perhaps, driven by an insatiable hunger. And every time another person goes missing, I wonder if they’ve been dragged into the depths, another lost soul condemned to wander the sewers, another dweller in the dark.
So, I write this as a warning. Stay away from the sewers, from the forgotten places beneath our feet. There are horrors in the shadows that defy understanding, creatures born from the city’s neglect, waiting to drag you into the darkness.
And to those who are missing, I’m sorry. I’m sorry we couldn’t save you from the fate that awaited you in the sewers, in the jaws of the city’s darkest secret.