The Sewer King's Carol (4)

The Last Ghost

I hear the low growl of the factory above me. I got up from the snow and see a big looming metal castle where the house once stood. All of its lights are on and I could hear the humming of the machines. In the air above, smoke and toxic clouds filled the air so much so that people who took the poor job are required to strap gas masks over their face. "Spirit?" I call out. "What is this..? Where am I? I.. I didn't mean to shoot you.. You wouldn't stop! I'm.. I'm still being judged.. right..?" There was no one dare of course. All of her dumb Snowdown music was gone. I looked at the snow in front and remembered that those were the maven's remains. I grab at the spot where she left me and felt its cold surface, still ever present and lingering on the ground, as a constant reminder of whom I rejected.

Suddenly the lights go off, one by one. Bells ring to signal the departure. I hear the marching of people leaving their prison as they go back to their homes in the safety of their homes to rest for the next session of torture. Their faces seemed wearied and tired of going through the same monotonous routine over and over again and their hands reach for the wrinkles as that could fix anything. The metal castle stood solemnly as it watched its slaves leave for the day as the remaining people within it shut off its lights and power and continue the ringing of the screaming bell. I witness this until the bell's last powerful sound faded, the bright lights vanquished, and the last person gone, leaving me alone with only a single lamppost shining my shadow across the snowy floor.

I look at shadow as it begins to enlarge onto the factory's cold metal walls and mutate to a creature with what seems to be large beard stretching to the bottom of his toes and a large dark robe. To his left are large metal claws and to his right is a large hook. He looks down at me with hatred and sadistic glee at the torture that he would love to bring to me with his glowing light blue eyes. "Are.. If the ghost of the past and the present has past, then are you the future?" I ask.

He continues to stare at me as he begins to point his hook downwards where it begins to bend with the floor, pointing to the city. "You... You want me to go there..?" I ask. "Where.. where am I?"

He said nothing, and continued to look down at me from his looming size, sending shivers down my spine. I follow his directions out of fear and caution, knowing that my actions with the second of these ghosts could lead to my death. I just needed to make this as quick as possible. Just follow directions and you'll see The Goopy One again and contain him for sure from the stupidity of the surface holidays.

As I walk to the green city, I begin to notice the absence of decorations. There's no more plant life on the streetlamps nor tribute to the grand king of poros. The groups of drunken, crazy men screaming the phrase "Snowdown" were now replaced with humans buzzing around, only concerned with their destination. The music was heavier than that of Snowdown with low keys and depressed tones, yet it still tries to be jubilant of the world. As I go through the crowd, I begin to feel claustrophobic of the people around me. I didn't want their surface-dweller..-ness to rub off on me. I decide to try and find a manhole to go through.. Maybe that would make the place more familiar as well. I don't know all of Zaun, but I do know all of the sewers, but every manhole I come across, there was always a person walking on it.

However, one place stayed the same. On the outskirts of this sector, I saw the same abandoned neighborhood that The Goopy One lived in. While every part of the city had people buzzing around, this one had no one. It's house were still one made of withering rocks about to give in. As I walk around this place, I begin to notice houses that have finally crumbled. Only half of the houses seem to have lived, but they only lived as zombies. I go into ZAC's house and found the wallpaper more decayed and the holes numerous. I go into the basement and found piles upon piles of newspapers cluttering in the room. On the wall where the poster used to reside is an old bulletin board with newspaper clippings. The clippings tell of a "Mysterious Green Giant" or "New Zaunite's Hope?" I sit down to gaze upon it and even some newspapers scattered around the floor. Not all of them speak well of my friend. Not with stuff like "Monster Infestation" nor "Disaster Maker". These surface dwellers.. why must they be so dense?