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Jack Brown

The Tunnel

Updated: Apr 9


The Tunnel - AudioNarrated by Jack Brown

I found myself staring into a rocky clearing, surrounded by a curtain of verdant sycamore trees. At its center lay the entrance to an old railway tunnel. Its weathered grey bricks were overgrown with moss. Gnarled tree roots had burrowed through the ancient mortar. If not for the gaping maw leading into its inky black interior, the tunnel would have been perfectly hidden by the lush greenery. Normally, I would be ecstatic. Carrie and I explored every abandoned place we could find. This time was different. Icy pinpricks traced their way down my spine. I wanted to look away, but my eyes remained glued to the empty void before me. It felt like there were hundreds of eyes watching me from the shadows. A tug on my arm jolted me back to reality.

“Hey, you alright?” Carrie appeared beside me, brow knit with concern.

         “Yeah, yeah. Just spaced out.” 

We spread the picnic blanket over a dirt patch at the mouth, close enough to hear our own voices reverberating back to us whenever we spoke. Carrie tore into the ham sandwiches we had prepared for the day, paying no mind to the haunting echoes that tugged at my stomach. I chewed mine until the mixture of bread and meat was a viscid glob seeping through my teeth, but I couldn’t bring myself to swallow. Any appetite I had built from the three-hour hike through the woods had vanished under the tunnel’s invisible gaze. If Carrie noticed, she didn’t mention it. I was about to attempt another bite when a small voice emanated from the entrance behind us. 

“Hello…?”

It was barely audible, but more than enough to catch our attention. Carrie and I exchanged stunned expressions for a moment before turning to the tunnel. We cautiously rose and faced the blackness. Carrie cupped her hands around her mouth. 

“Hello? Is someone there?” she called.

“Help…” 

My stomach tied in knots at the childlike whimper. The voice felt wrong, but I couldn’t understand why. Still, we couldn’t just sit and ignore it. 

Our phone flashlights did little to puncture the oppressive darkness of the tunnel. The cool breeze drifting in from outside dissipated the further we walked, gradually becoming an unnatural humidity. My only comfort was the crunch of Carrie’s boots against the gravel floor. 

We found a pair of moldy sneakers strewn across the tracks. Figuring some homeless person had left them there, we moved on, but the deeper we followed the winding passage, the more we found. Hiking boots, torn backpacks, designer watches, and wedding rings littered the floor. A gnawing dread that we weren’t alone in the tunnel surfaced at the back of my mind. I wanted to turn back, but Carrie’s steely gaze told me she wouldn’t be running out with me. 

After what felt like hours, we hit a wall. It was grey, much like the bricks surrounding us, but its smooth surface pulsated as our lights swept its length. It filled the tunnel from floor to ceiling. Thick veins throbbed under the skin as it undulated in the humid air. 

“Help… us…” a voice near my ear wheezed. It was the same voice we heard at the entrance, only more guttural. I jerked my light up to find a mouth jutting from the mound, an oily black tongue surrounded by yellowing teeth. Several more lipless mouths emerged from the mass, each repeating the words over and over. Every breach added a new voice to the rising cacophony. Hundreds of gaunt arms and legs erupted where the body met the walls. The limbs dragged the squirming hulk forward with erratic movements. I grabbed Carrie’s hand and sprinted back the way we’d come. We weren’t fast enough. 


 

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