Going Under Novels & Stories

“You must have questions, Carl.” “Yes, but things are so confusing now that I don't even know what to begin asking first to really sort it all out.” “Then let’s start with the immediate and the simple and work from there,” X said undaunted. “All right. That sounds like a good start,” I acknowledged. “The staff here call this place Underdenver and you said it’s under the Denver Airport. It’s a hub city in a nationwide underground network. How am I doing with the immediate and the simple, so far?”

“King wouldn’t waste this much effort if she were gone. He wants me broken. The only way to break me is through her.” Morgan was silent for a moment. “Then we find her. But don’t let Grant’s poison distract you. He’ll slit your throat while you’re shaking his hand.” I exhaled, tension coiling tighter in my chest. “I know. But right now, I need every piece I can steal from King’s board. Even if it’s a viper.” We pulled into the underground garage of Carter West, the car’s headlights cutting shadows across the concrete. My phone buzzed before I even opened the door.

"You can't be serious. You really want us to go down there? What if there's someone there?" "I don't sense anyone." I sit, bringing my legs around. They go in through the carving in the floor. I draw in a serene breath, then propel myself forward. I fall. A grunt escapes me when I land on my back. Sprays of dust rush up and I recoil, holding myself stiff against the itch rising in my throat. When Umber lands, she isn't so quiet. She doubles over, coughing. Luckily no one is alerted to the sound. I rise, dusting off quickly. "Hurry. We need to hide."

“Come with me. I have to get to see an old friend that can’t afford a visit to the hospital and needs to know if she’s pregnant. Let’s go!” “Where are we going?” “Some cabaret. It may cheer you up.” “Cabaret? Do you have friends in a cabaret?” “It’s an old friend.” “Wait, are we going to your department for your stuff to make that checkup?” Thomas denied with his head. “So? Don’t tell you’re so obsessed with your job that have your stuff with you?” Thomas shrugged. “You know how I can be.” “Get a life!” With laughs they left the bar.

he growled, ripping it off from his ear. The signal had cut the moment she descended. “Communication might not work underground,” Asher said flatly, breath tight, “That elevator, it didn’t go up. It went down.” Finn frowned, “That meant…” All of us stared at each other for a long moment. “Underground…” I realized as I glanced down at my feet feeling something for the slightest moment. This wasn’t just a brothel. It was more like a fortress. A fortress of flesh, secrets, and goddamn horror buried beneath our feet.

Tyson that Adrian still didn’t have his ability, because there’s a great chance that if Adrian killed all these men now, it’d anger them enough to kill Emily’s daughter. And just as they’d anticipated, some men soon arrived at the building. By then, it was only Steve in the room. Emily and Adrian were in the underground building that Steve had in his house. The underground building was bigger than the one on the surface that people normally see, and inside the basement underground there was a staircase that led downward into another part of the building. In this part here, an iron gate could be seen. The gate was big and thick in a way that if they were to break something like this, they’d n

I don’t even notice how far I’ve run. My boots pound the soft spring grass, the air sharp in my lungs, my chest burning—not from exertion, but from the weight pressing down on me. Anger. Frustration. The raw, unfiltered frustration of months—no, years—of being kept in the dark.

Because it was the first time she had said it. Out loud. The forest trembled again. Not physically. Emotionally. As if the entire place was reacting to something beneath it. Then— The ground beneath them vibrated. A low, resonant hum. Deep. Controlled. Mechanical. Coming from below. Daniel stepped back instinctively. “That’s underground,” he said. Rachel nodded rapidly. “The facility—there’s a lower level that was never documented.” Mercer’s voice cut in sharply. “There is no lower level.”

The terrace air grew dense, briny, and freezing—as if we stood upon the dried bed of a marine trench waiting for the ocean to crash back down. "To the catacombs!" Kael shouted from the lower ledge, his armor dusted with fine brine falling like acid rain. "If that mass collapses, it will shatter the entire peninsula!" "No one runs!" Lawrence’s voice boomed with telluric force, shaking marble tiles beneath our boots. "If we go underground, we drown like rats in a ditch!"

He kept yelling at Chester. “Get out! Find the escape chute and go to grand father! Chester run! Now!” Chester breathed and scrambled away on all fours, now wanting to stand up for fear of being seen. The escape chute was in the study, hidden exactly where the desk was, where the rug covered the small trap door. It was a narrow passage way, built like a tunnel slide which led all the way to the back of the house, under the ground and outside of the wall. Once outside there, he could easily find his way to grand father.