Isolation (Penumbra Fanfiction)

Chapter 5

A/N: Gaah. This took a while to write. And it's even pretty short wtf xD 

Erm. TRIED TO MAKE IT MORE REALISTIC

I think I failed

But. It's not.. Terrible.. At least? :D 

Yeah. I know I included the WHOLE NOTE. Probably should've shortened it. Too late now.

ANYWAY ENJOY. Votes/comments appreciated (:

_______________

There was a hole in the rock that was the ceiling, the only light of the room came from the hole, which also blew in a cold draft, reminding them of the outside world, however, also reminding them they won't leave, thick, metal bars ran across the hole, preventing any escape, as though mocking them, laughing at them about how they are doomed to remain underground. The small room held rusted metal cabinets, and rotten wooden shelves which held noting, apart from the occasional old, worn, yellow paper that either contained nothing of interest, or the ink was too faded to read. The rusted cabinets only held batteries, and painkillers, nothing more. However, the small desk had a journal, and a jar, both covered in dust, placed upon it.

Christina sat on the single chair that was in the room, Cameron on the desktop, Eric and James sat against the door, hoping to prevent any more dogs from entering.

“This is the officer's log,” Cameron read out the scribbled title of the book, he opened the tatty journal, flipping through the pages before he read it aloud. “15th of August, 1945. Command Bunker: Emergency Airstrip Zulu. Weekly report.

Another unremarkable week in Greenland: Regular supply shipment received. Standard emergency drills carried out. Routine runway maintenance completed (I have ordered maintenance to be out twice weekly from here on in, due to increased snow fall). One wounded.

The one wounded figure is no cause for concern back in London: The Germans haven't extended their frontline by 4000miles. Two of my men were caught manufacturing cherry bombs in our workshop/armoury, and succeeded in blowing off a couple of fingers. I take partial responsibility for this, in that I allowed them access to the demolitions manual we keep in the store room, and I'm sure that's where they learnt the ingredients. As a precautionary measure, I have now locked up that manual in the chest in my office, and will keep the key on my person at all times.” He stopped as he skimmed over the next page.

Everyone turned to look at him as he went silent. “Anything useful...?” Eric asked.

Cameron didn't reply for a moment, “Doesn't seem like it. I'm keeping it anyway, though. It mentioned something about bombs. We might need that.”

Christine exchanged looks with the other two. She knew they were all thinking the same. Why would they need a bomb? “What's the jar of?” She asked, referring to the dust covered jar that was next to the officer's log.

Cameron picked it up, wiping the dust off it. “Baxtrin.” He said casually, and placed it in his bag. He pulled open the drawers, and pulled out a newspaper clipping. Reading it over quickly himself. “Oh my God.” He muttered.

“What is it?” Christine asked and looked at Cameron who didn't respond straight away, the others too, were staring at him curiously, waiting.

“There were suicides committed here.” He informed them, though he continued scanning the paper. Everyone showed a vague sense of shock. Sure, this place wasn't the greatest of places to live, though it can't have been that bad?

“Does it say why?” Eric asked.

Once again he didn't reply straight away. “Some chemicals in the rocks.” he answered calmly.

Christine, Eric, and James each looked equally worried. James jumped up and away from the walls, as though it would help in any way to prevent the chemicals affecting him.

Cameron barely even glanced at the activity and reactions of the three of them, he continued on, “Apparently the chemicals can cause paranoid schizophrenia, and hallucinations.” He put the paper down. “That's all. Some scientists at a university just interviewed some locals about it. They're explanation was just some legend I've never even heard of.” He finished with a shrug, and continued to search the other part of the room, in the drawers of cabinets.

“Legend?” Christine questioned, standing up and taking the paper.

“Yeah. Something called the... Hell, I don't even know how to pronounce it.”

“Inuit spirits known as the “Tuurngait” live in the mountains.” She read out loud.

“Personally I don't think it's anything to worry about.” Cameron said casually.

Eric had stood up, guessing it was probably safe outside by now, and took the newspaper clipping off of Christine to read for himself.

“Well, being someone who doesn't believe in mythology, I'd agree that the this Tuurngait myth doesn't seem to be anything to worry about.” Christine agreed, “However, what it mentioned about chemicals in the rocks seems to be real, as it was scientifically proved, was it not? That's not a comforting thought.” She finished abruptly.

Cameron turned and faced her, he held his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Well what am I supposed to do about that?” Christine rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I can't do anything about the fucking rocks.” He snapped.

“Maybe we should get out of here. You know, continue forward? And perhaps stop worrying?” Eric suggested, his tone loud and firm, to prevent an argument from happening. Everyone turned to him, he was looked at the other three expectantly, his hand already on the door handle, ready to leave the tiny room. It was silent for a moment as no one moved, or said anything. Then Cameron stepped forwards from the back of the room, Eric, taking it as agreement to what he had said, opened the door and left. Christine and James followed behind them.

“Really don't fancy seeing the sight of Natasha's body again.” Christine heard him mumble besides her. She glanced at him, he was looking down, directly at the ground determinedly, to avoid looking at Natasha, she assumed.

Christine glanced over at her dead body as they passed it from a distance, it was a shame. She died a foolish death, Christine thought, trying to befriend a dog that looked unnatural. Although, she couldn't possibly have known one dog would be able to kill her so quickly. It was unnerving. It made one's instinct for survival much higher. Could there actually be anything worse down here? She wondered, and prayed the answer was no.