The Hauntings of Thunder City (Hold :3)

Gas Masks and Broken Glass

I wake up with an aching back, gas mask and case file strewn on the floor.

“It sure sounds like gas to me,” I mutter, picking up the gas mask and kicking a paper away.

I walk down to the hotel’s small lobby, where Wolfmanwolf’s already gobbling a muffin from the continental breakfast table. My stomach does a flop at the thought of breakfast. And, by flop, I mean my stomach was warning me that if I ate it would be happy to regurgitate whatever I put in.

So, yeah, no.

I strap on the gas mask, careful to secure every little buckle. Wolfman gives me a weird look.

“I’m ready to go,” I say, my voice distorted by the mask.

“Yeah, um, but no one else is,” Wolfman says.

I tear off the mask and say, “What do you mean?”

“We were talking to the locals last night,” Wolfman says. “Pretty creepy shit in that building of yours, Kell.”

I sigh and strap the gas mask back on.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

Wolfman and I are apparently on good terms.

xxx

Without my crew, I walk into the building.

There’s nothing left but an eerie silence where players once made empty chatter. No hissing of a ruptured gas line, either. 

I go downstairs to check on the pipes. I leave the door open.

I built this thing pretty well, if I do say so myself. It’s one of the only apartment buildings with plumbing, one of two with iron plumbing. In Thunder City, anyway. The cost of living in Sky City is so high the people just expect that much.

I’m deep in the network of pipes when I hear the door creak shut.

“Siomar!” I scream. “Open the door!”

No response.

“Fuck you,” I mutter under my breath.

I stand and untangle my legs from the pipes and walk over to the door. I twist the knob. It doesn’t give. 

“Simoar?” I ask.

Quiet.

“Wolfman!” I yell. “Open the door!”

Nothing.

“Arrow, you suck!”

Still. Nothing.

Just nothing.