Graffiti lined the walls under the tunnel and added a silent rhythm to the ambience of trains rattling by. Papers swirled up in their wake and batted at my legs before falling to the ground.
The guys didn't like me going here. They said it was weird goint to a place like this to think. I said they didn't understand. As I walked along, scuffing my heels against the gum-covered bricks, the paintings became more alien and beautiful and I stopped at one I had never seen before. It was a door and as I reached out and touched it I found it wasn't painted. It was made out of wood that had somehow grown into the tunnel wall. It looked like a door from a book about victorian London, with rich wood aond a brass knob, but was somehow practically the opposite.
I leaned close to it and turned the knob. It opened to an unlit underground passage and I stepped in. The door slowly closed and locked behind me. I hadn't noticed the words scrawled at th bottom of the door. The same word in a thousand different languages, forever.
YOU ARE READING
Shadow Cat and Other Stories
Mystery / Thriller"The cat leapt soundlessly from one shingled rooftop to the next," this is the first sentence of the first story of this thrilling collection of short stories. Mysteries and cliffhangers cling to every one of these tales, ones that will leave you c...
