Beneath Terra
Chapter 3
to all of our amazement, we were all standing at the gates of an underground city.
We all stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the shadowy expanse of a city.
Then I noticed Patricia shifting her weight like she was about to sprint forward. I grabbed her arm and hissed, “What are you doing?”
Patricia flashed me a teasing grin. “Why are you whispering? You afraid the monsters in the city are gonna hear you?”
I glanced back at the looming arches, chilled by the thought that she might not be joking. We had no idea who—or what—had built this place. Or if anything still lived there.
That’s when John stepped in.
“We should explore this. Absolutely.” He swept his light across the towering stone walls. “But… I think we’re all thinking the same thing. We should stay silent. We have no idea what’s in here, no idea who built it, no idea what they’d think about people wandering in.”
Relief washed over me. John was being the voice of reason, stepping up when both Andrew and I were too rattled to say anything.
I turned to Patricia, still gripping her arm. She looked utterly disappointed, pouting like a kid denied dessert. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, plotting how to sneak off and mess around in the dark remnants of the city.
Before I could say anything else, John and Andrew slipped past Patricia and me, already moving deeper into the city. Their footsteps echoed softly as their headlamps swept beams of light across the stone walls.
I let go of Patricia and hurried to catch up.
We wandered through the streets for a while, silent and wide-eyed. The city was… bizarre. It felt almost like an architect’s experiment—or like an AI-generated cityscape pulled from someone’s fever dream. The buildings looked vaguely human-designed, but they twisted off into impossible angles.
One square building rose straight up before tilting sharply to the left, then spiraled like a giant stone drill. Another seemed normal from the ground, but halfway up, it split open into latticework arches that wove together overhead.
Everywhere we turned, there were signs—street signs, business signs, billboards. But none of them had any recognizable writing. Just strange markings, geometric symbols, and looping characters that never repeated or seemed connected to one another.
It was all familiar enough to look almost normal—until you stared at it too long. Then the shapes and symbols started to feel wrong, like the city was playing tricks on your brain.
Everything about the place was just… bizarre.
That’s when we stopped outside what I thought was a bakery—or a horrifying attempt at copying one.
We all stepped inside, and at first glance, it actually looked… normal. Almost disappointingly normal.
Counters stretched along the front where a cashier might once have stood, ready to exchange change for trays of pastries. Along the right and left walls ran long tables, each lined with high stools tucked neatly underneath. In the center of the room, clusters of small tables and chairs waited, as if expecting customers to sit, sip coffee, and chat.
It was eerie. Familiar, yet off.
I found John crouched behind the counter, tugging at the cash register.
“What are you doing?” I asked, already annoyed.
“I’m seeing if I can break this open and get some cash,” he said, not bothering to look up.
“Are you kidding me, dude? That’s literally stealing.”
John let out a sharp sigh and finally glanced up, frustration in his eyes. “We’ve been through this a hundred times. If they needed this stuff, they would’ve taken it with them when they left the city.”
This had been a constant tension point between me and John. I was here for the adrenaline—the thrill of exploring places no one else dared to go. He was here for the same rush… but also to find valuable things he could take and sell.
And it always pissed me off.
“OW!!”
Andrew screamed from the front of the store. I spun around just in time to see him flailing his hand, then shoving his finger into his mouth.
Confused, I rushed over. “Andrew, you all right?”
He pulled his finger out, grimacing. “Yeah, I just pinched it. I was reaching under that chair”—he pointed to a chair now flipped on its side—“and I think something pinched me.”
I stared at him, frowning, then leaned closer to look at his finger. My confusion twisted into something darker.
Because right there on the pad of his fingertip… were tiny bite marks. Like a miniature set of human jaws had sunk into his skin.
Andrew and I both stared at it in silence. Finally, I muttered, “You should probably wash your hands.”
“And I’ll be looking for some mouthwash,” Andrew shot back, shuddering.
Before either of us could say anything else, John’s triumphant yell rang out from behind the counter. “GOT IT!!”
But his voice was immediately drowned out by an eerie glow flooding the room.
All the lights flipped to a deep, pulsing red—as if an alarm had gone off.
Except there was no sound.
Just the red light, bathing everything around us in an ominous glow.
“Good going, John,” I said sarcastically, shooting him a look.
He ignored me, staring down into the cash box he’d just pried open.
“What the hell?!” John exclaimed, genuine confusion in his voice.
I hurried over. “What?” I asked, leaning in to look.
He didn’t even need to answer.
Inside the cash box wasn’t money—at least not our kind of money. Instead of green bills, it was filled with paper the color of dried blood, covered in strange symbols. No faces of presidents or monuments, just swirling markings scattered across every note.
And each bill was unique, like snowflakes—different patterns, different shapes, no two the same.
John scowled, shaking his head. “Counterfeit bullshit,” he muttered, then threw the cash box down.
“All that effort for nothing—”
He was cut off by Patricia gasping sharply and ducking under the window.
John blinked at her, irritated. “What, the cash box clanking to the ground startled you that badly?”
John might have been blinded by frustration, but Andrew and I weren’t.
Patricia, who’d been ecstatic, energetic, and fearless this entire time… was now trembling in horror.
Seeing her like that nearly sent me into a panic attack.
But what nearly gave me a heart attack was the look on her face—tears glistening in her eyes—as she whispered:
“Something’s coming.”
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. This is chapter 3, so if you are interested in how this story continues, hit subscribe. And all stories are better to talk about with friends so please share the story. thank you again, hope to see you soon.
The previous part:
The next part: coming soon!!
