A myriad of smells of things left to rot and decay in the cold wetness filled the stagnant air.

More water, falling in thick droplets, leaked from somewhere high above.

"What dae heck happened down here?" said Walter.

Well I think they should call a plumber, I thought.

The three of us tepidly shuffled down the right-side walkway. Our footfalls landed with heavy clangs; none of us had the care to give about the noise we were making. It was less that we were scared, but rather over-stimulated. From the mad chaos and carnage on the third floor, to what we had witnessed on the fifth floor, combined with the effort of making our way down to the underground complex; we had already seen and done enough to be rendered meek passengers in our own bodies.

As soon as I felt a slight tiredness creeping over my back and shoulders, just by being aware of it, and naturally wishing for it to go away, the tiredness relented. I didn't know for sure but I imagined Sophie and Walter and I were handling the stress of everything we were going through better than we might otherwise because our bodies weren't begging for us to stop and rest.

Sophie let out a sudden scream, followed quickly by Walter giving a sharp yell of fright.

My bare left foot stepped on something furred and wriggling.

I gasped, aiming my bulbed left hand down to the metal walkway, shining a light on a half-dozen rats. My skin crawled at the sight of them fleeing the light.

"Sod off," Sophie whined before punting a rat which was in her way, sending it sailing off the walkway and into the dark below.

Walter and I shared a look.

The three of us pressed on through the dark, penetrating it with the light from our bulbed hands, exposing more of the walkway before us.

We picked up our pace a little if only to avoid the rats biting our feet. Sophie and I had lost our plimsolls whilst using our powers above. I doubted Walter's plimsolls were doing him much good given how sodden they were from the water that had drenched us on our way down the ladder.

The walkway came to a stop at the edge of the town right of where we had first seen the town from above.

Large patches of the pathway ahead of us, as well as where we were standing at the end of the walkway, was ankle-deep with icy cold water.

We looked about. I had hoped to see a signpost or some obvious way to go.

The buildings, from the ground level, were as big as regular houses.

We could just make out a road-like pathway between the two closest buildings ahead. The alternative would be to follow the 'road' we were on left or right which seemed to wrap around the fringe of the town.

"I say we go ahead and to the right," said Walter, "See what's in dae middle of town, then carry on til we find a way out."

Neither Sophie or I objected.

Walter, having taken charge, led the way ahead. We stepped and splashed in the dark, moving along the pathway ahead.

The path led into an open space, like a mini-town square. In the middle of the square lay what appeared to be a monument made of metal which had severely rusted.

The monument depicted what looked like a man, though with a large domed head. At first glance the figure reminded me of a robot, because its lidless eyes in particular looked like a pair of yellow crystals. Where the head met the shoulders was sloped, leaving the figure with no neck. Above the figure lay a sign made of metal, and on the sign was a symbol I had seen numerous times in my life. The symbol was of a large letter C. On the left side of the letter was three lines, the outermost line being the smallest, with the middle line being slightly larger than the one to the left, and the last line being the tallest of the three. This staggered series of three lines was mirrored opposite the other side of the letter C, creating a vague pyramid shape.

"What is it?" said Walter.

"It's Chellam," I said, "It's a Brotherhood. My Dad belongs to one of the Lodges."

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Walter fixed his attention on me.

"Your Da's got something to do with this?" he said.

I shook my head.

"No," I said, finding the idea my Dad would have the slightest clue about any of this absurd.

"There's Chellam Lodges all over the country," I said, "All over the world, actually."

"But wha' is it?" said Walter.

I thought back to my childhood and the things I knew of from back then.

"At my Dad's level," I said, "The entry level, it's just an excuse for men to get away from their wives. They have meals and do a bunch of…"

I struggled to find the right word, "Rituals, I guess."

"Wha' do ya' mean 'rituals'?" said Walter.

"It's scouts for adults," I said, "My Dad asked me once if I wanted to join up, but it seemed really lame so I didn't."

"But wha's it doing down here?" said Walter, gesturing to the monument and the symbol.

"I don't know," I said, "Maybe they funded it."

"I've heard a little about Chellam," said Sophie, she moved her bulbed hand closer to her face, which, I think without her meaning to, gave the same impression as if she had put a battery-powered torch close to her face as if about to tell a spooky campfire story.

"They're mentioned a lot when it comes to conspiracy theories," she said, "You know, people disappearing. Serial killers, that sort of thing."

"And how'd you know that?" said Walter.

Sophie looked a little bashful all of a sudden.

"I read a lot of True Crime novels," she said, "And, you know, podcasts and stuff."

"Tha' hardly makes you an expert, does it?" said Walter.

"I didn't say it did," Sophie snapped back.

I found myself staring at the yellow eyes of the metal man looming before us. Thanks to the light from our bulbed hands I could see myself reflected in the metal man's shimmering eyes.

"Can we keep moving?" I said to the others, having felt a chill run through me separate to the ever present cold all around us.

"Sure," said Walter.

He patted my back gently, urging me on.

It seemed like an unspoken agreement between the three of us not to go into any of the buildings. Seeing the closed doors and the hazy windows ruined by water decay and long neglect seemed to promise nothing but trouble.

We might have to go into one of them, I thought, but not yet if we can help it.

"You know," said Sophie, breaking the silence as we neared the middle of town.

"Yeah?" I said in a near-whisper.

"This might not be the best time to mention this," she said, "But about 170,000 people go missing in England every year."

"Why on Earth do you feel the need to tell us that?" I said.

"Well," she said, "I know it sounds morbid but these people that go missing, they have to go somewhere."

"That's enough of tha', thank you," said Walter, trying to keep his nerve.

"Okay, sorry," said Sophie.

The timing of that little nugget of information played on our minds as we continued on through the dark, not least because it seemed to ring very true to where we were.

We knew what the Pied Piper officers were capable of all too well.

Surely they didn't sprout of the ground as soon as the Pied Piper Operation started, I thought, staring off at the dark praying not to see a human shape lurking somewhere beyond.

The Pied Piper officers must have been up to something before the operation, I thought, Maybe this was it.

"This could all just be some daft billionaire's idea for a second home," said Walter.

The disturbing silence all around us washed away Walter's hopeful alternative as if mocking it.

Never in my life had I heard such a consistent, lingering quiet that somehow sounded as if it were angry at us for trespassing.

We entered a narrow alleyway. More rats skittered by us, some moving the way we had just come from, others leading the way ahead. None of us liked being closed in the alleyway so, without saying a word, we all picked up our pace to get to the other end as quickly as we could without giving away how scared we were to each other, though we all could tell.

The alleyway opened up to a large open space which had to be the middle of the 'town'. There was a structure ahead of us that didn't immediately make sense. It was too thin to be a building, but too tall and imposing to be some abstract piece of modern art.

We moved towards it, since it seemed to be the very centerpiece the 'town' was built around.

Not only that, but the water at our ankles seemed to be moving towards the middle of town too, we could feel the ground sloping down just a little, adding an extra bit of momentum to us moving towards the structure.

Finally, we reached the structure.

The sight of what it was made my stomach tie up in knots. The three of us looked it over again, and again, as if to make sure we weren't seeing things. I brought the light of my bulbed hand low, checking around the base of the structure. In the ground were large drains which were taking in the steady stream of water passing by our feet.

But the drains aren't meant for the water, I thought, morbidly.

I looked towards the structure again, my eyes resting on the section of sharp metal which reflected the three of us back.

It was a guillotine.