Into The Depths [Undergoing Rewrite]

Chapter 15

∾ These Old Songs ∾

-Chapter 15-

Warnings for this chapter: A Mild(?) Curse, Studio Shenanigans

⊱⊰ With the foundation...⊱⊰

The lights in the studio flickered off while the walls thrummed. The noise must be from the pipes, crediting the knowledge from the audio recordings they had found. A few people had flinched when the power shut off, before sheepishly looking around to see if anyone noticed. 

The humans all moved together as a group, down the hall to the machine they had turned on. It felt like forever, as they avoided busted pipes and suspicious-looking floorboards. The first man turned the corner to the ink machine, pausing in surprise.

The doorway was boarded up. A trail of ink led towards them.

Somebody didn't want them to see what the machine was doing.

Cautiously, a few of the men moved forward. Silence. The leading man lifted up an axe they had brought along, before breaking off the boards. 

Nothing happened. 

The humans uneasily filtered into the room, looking at the machine that was busy spewing out ink. It was all going straight down to the bottom of the pit, overflowing the small basin directly under the spout of the machine.

"Well, somebody turn the machine off! Who knows where all the ink is going, and I sure as hell don't want to be swimming in it later." A leader barked, before two men rushed to do as he said.

Soon enough, the machine shut off, before the chains holding it up started to clink into motion. The machine slowly dropped back down into the pit with the humans staring in disappointment. All that work for nothing. 

One man snorted. "Well? Don't we have a SCP to find? Let's find a staircase. That machine has to lead somewhere." A few people nodded at his words, before dispersing to find a way down. Safely, of course. The floor had already given way under someone's foot when they went near the exit.

"Hey, I found the staircase! Can someone help me with the boards?" The creaking of wood soon followed as the planks were wrenched away. Someone got a splinter, but it was a small price to pay for a safe way down into the studio.

The humans filed down the narrow staircase two at a time. The wood groaned and shuddered under their weight. The first two men to reach the second floor were quite disappointed when the staircase broke under their feet when they went to continue downwards. It was a shame, really. Now they had to find either another staircase or an elevator.

The humans trudged out of the stairwell, starting to investigate the floor they were on. It seems like they had found the music department. Note sheets were peeked at by curious guards. Most of them didn't understand a lick of it, but the more music savvy of them longed to try the masterpieces out.

It was dreadfully quiet without the humans. Most people didn't talk much, too busy keeping guard or looking around and investigating the surrounding area. Feet shuffled over old floorboards though, so they weren't completely undiscovered.

A man looked towards one of the strange puddles in the next room. It looked different then the questionably normal splotches of ink that were splattered everywhere. He moved towards it, taking out a small vial to take some in.

He couldn't have been a few feet away when the puddle suddenly moved. Something crawled out of the liquid, the man staring wide eyed. A humanoid torso, noticeably lacking legs, with no eyes and a gaping mouth. It groaned at him, before lunging for his legs.