FLESH covered LIES

The Fear of Discovery

When we had opened the trapdoor, there was a good 5 minutes where we all just stood there, staring into the abyss. The policeman who had mistook me for a liar around 3 hours ago now was the first to speak.
"We're going to need back up. We have no idea who, or... or what is down there."
Then everyone sprang into action. The rest of the officers either filed out of the room to form some sort of plan, or went to comfort my mother, who was now shivering with a ferocity that was borderline hysterical.
Harissa left with the officers, to tell them what she knew of what was below the house, in order to have a mental map in the minds of everyone who may need to venture down the steep ladder, which as far as I could tell, led to our inescapable and inevitable doom.

By the end of all this trauma, it was just me and Jonathan, staring into the deep. I glanced up at him, trying to suss out his intentions. He was still holding his mug, clasped close to his chest. Then, without warning, I saw him drop it into the trapdoor.
"Jonathan, what in the world are you-"
He shushed me, and listened. I heard the clink of the mug breaking below us - the hole had to be no more than 3 metres deep.

What he did next, could have made me hate him. It could have made me think of him as the most stupid person I knew. It could have made me avoid him for the rest of life, for being a spontaneous, unpredictable bastard. But it didn't. Somehow, him taking a deep breath, and stepping into the hole seemed like the most logical thing in the world. And I didn't question it. But I knew for a fact he didn't expect me to follow him.

When my feet hit the ground, I almost fell over, as the waves of shock dribbled through my body. I let out a cry of fear, and I stumbled into Jonathan in the dark.
"Gerda? What are you doing?"
"I could ask you the same question." I replied, breathless.
"I caused this mess, maybe if I had listened to you, we wouldn't be..."
"Can you just shut up?" I interrupted. "Whoever got us into this, we need to get Tyler out, okay?"

From above - we heard an echoing yelp that bounced off the walls of the small tunnel we stood in. I recognised it as Harissa. More chatter. Low mumbles, that sounded like bargaining of some sort.
"Yeah... no..."..."No you can't...".... "Too young".... "Yes I know he's your brother." I made out.
Then, finally: "Okay, but we have to send someone with you."
Jonathan took a step back, pulling me with him.
There was a soft clunk, as another person fell down the hole, and after a few seconds, a final man. It was Harissa of course, alongside a police officer. My least favourite police officer. I sighed, but helped them both regain their balance.
No one spoke, and I began to feel chilly and uncomfortable in the gloom.
Then, Harissa took my hand, and whispered, "Let's do this." into the dark, as we started to walk.

The passage felt cold, not just literally, but figuratively too. It was as if someone had deliberately sucked all of the light and hope from all four of us, as we stumbled along in the murk. I almost tripped over my own feet multiple times, but I was determined that we couldn't fail at his stage.
I felt as though I was in a daze. It was so dark down here, I could have convinced myself I was just asleep and dreaming. Maybe - if it wasn't so cold. I kept Harissa's hand held tightly in mine, if I let go, I could have been swept away by the darkness - thus why I refused to let my grip slip.

Suddenly, there was a jerk in my hand as Harissa tripped on a lump in the gloom. She swore quietly in the dark, over and over, clutching her foot.
"Are you alright?" I whispered, though I wasn't sure why. She obviously wasn't. None of us were.
Suddenly a spark of an idea formed in my mind. I pulled my phone from my pocket, and fumbled around until I could see the logo beginning to appear in the dark as it booted up. It was old, and took its grand old time I must say.
"Good idea." I heard Jonathan mutter from somewhere in front of me.
The phone binged twice when it was on at last. Of course, the text messages. I noticed they were from Mr Sed. I opened up the messaging app, unaware of why I cared so much when my brother was in so much danger. But looking back, I'm glad I did.

Come and find me Gerda. I think it's time you worked it out, don't you think? You've been so close so many times, so come and find, little, toddler, Tyler.

My eyes widened with shock, but I kept reading onto the next message.

You were always my best student, keen, and inquisitive. I must admit, I thought you would work it out long ago, I left some clues for you you know. But you ignored them. And now things are heating up a little down here. Come and find us why don't you?

Everything hit me all at once. All those suited men who I thought were just in my dreams, the realm of darkness, where I had seen Mr Sed cruelly murder Jonathan, how could I have believed that was just me creating things to scare myself? And the glasses in the attic, they didn't just look like Mr Sed's, there were Mr Sed's.

"Gerda? Can you please get the torch now?"
I opened my mouth to explain everything, but then realised we didn't have time. I nodded, and said "Yeah, right here." as I opened the torch app, and a blinding white light filled the passage. "I think we should go a bit faster" I said, and yanked gently on Harissa's hand again.

We could see where we were going now, but it somehow made everything even more creepy and claustrophobic. I noticed as we walked at a quicker pace now, that there were drawings of some sort on the walls. Illustrations, but I couldn't quite make out what any of them were. I continued to peer at them as we walked, but said nothing to the others. I wondered if they had seen them too, but I felt as though discussing them would just make me even more frightened for the future, and I didn't want to break the silence, which now felt almost comfortable - a soft lull guiding me forwards, and persuading me to keep walking.

As we got closer and closer to what felt like our fate, I managed to identify a quick sketch on the wall, in red blood paint, of a tabby cat pinned to a bloody cross. I kept my mouth shut, and my eyes glided over to the small illustration next to it - a small boy with eyes wide in fear, who seemed to have suffered the same fate as the cat next to him.