The dust that crawled through every space, so the warehouse was less than palpable

We both agreed to keep searching. I stabbed another bug with my knife. Dull creatures they were. I sensed more life coming out from that robot than any cretin.

Lyle stomped down on another insect. He asked if I found anything, I shrugged.

“I’m done with this chicken-chasing shit,” he stepped on top of a cretin. “Catboy, there’s a hidden entrance. Let’s find the place before we can call this journey a bust.”

“What, why me?” My tail swayed.

“The bloody cretins got here from somewhere, and they definitely didn't enter through the door. Look for a tunnel. If there’s a source of food, there’s rats.”

I nodded, Lyle’s reasoning was sound. I went back to the collection of insect corpses. My boots swept around the rubble. There was no progress until my nose picked something musty. My hands removed the debris, and I spotted hinges to an open door.

I called Lyle over, and opened the covering. The wood sponged up. The hatch creaked as I pulled it aside. The pathway led down with a ladder adjacent, but I knew better than to trust rotten wood. Lyle and I tied a broken cord down, and we descended into the tunnel

My feet clashed on the murky ground, where fungi flourished. We went around the inbuilt tunnel. And I said inbuilt. The tunnel was big enough for Lyle, and I to fit in there naturally.

“These tunnels used to be a smuggling den?” I asked “The path is too straight to be naturally forming.”

“With all the paths leading to Mamba Market, I wouldn’t be surprised,” he stopped me with his arm. “Hold on, I hear something.”

My cat-like eyes adjusted to the darkness, while Lyle turned on his visor. I heard the noise before Lyle. The rocks scratched just slightly beyond.

Lyle brought out his revolver. It shone despite the area being dark.

A light in shining darkness: darkness can never put out the light, and the light will always be there.

I thought about how my eyes always glowed.

I saw them, Monster in the shape of rats indeed. They were grotesque under the dim light, with the shape of a jumper mouse, except for the elongated legs. They went into a frenzy as they hopped around. There were 5 monsters in total.

Lyle grabbed his blade and rushed to the nearest creature. I followed his example.

My feet picked up on the stone. I sprinted past Lyle.

I thrust my knife at the closest rat. The creature jumped under my attack. The rodent leered forward while bouncing.

I leaped back. My feet slid on the wet ground. The rat leaped back in. We both met up. The rat opened its mullers, and I met that attack with my blade.

My fingers trembled as I pierced the monster’s leg. It cried out a high-pitched shill. I felt Lyle looking at me.

My eyes sensed 2 more figures appearing from the dark. I raised my knife, guarding myself in the process. There was no opportunity for a killing blow. More rats charged in my direction.

The rats developed a wariness for my knife. The 2 monsters gathered around the injured rat until the damaged rat recovered. All 3 circled around me. I receded back.

Lyle had problems of his own. He swung his shortsword in a large arc. The jumper mouse sprang from sideways. Lyle exerted much force, yet that mattered little. He used a revolver. and pointed it at the rat mid-direction.

“Got you,” Lyle whispered.

*Bang!*

Light dazzled the walls. The smell of powder went off from his revolver. Loud enough that the sound rang to my ears.

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No, the damage wasn’t enough. The bullet sprawled the rat onto the ground. Lead nestled on the outside of the skull.

A point-blank shot to the head was only enough to cause a concussion.

Another rat kicked Lyle's chest piece before he could respond. He flinched before changing to a more aggressive stance.

I focused back on myself. The 3 rats surrounded me. They bounced in a circle. The monsters worked better together. I attacked, and another one increased its assault on me. The weakest rat limped from the stab wound however.

A hiss escaped my lips. The creatures lunged 3 consecutive times. I sensed the presence of those red eyes. For such a creature, they were clever.

I knew that going on the defense never worked, yet the rats kept me locked up.

I peaked at Lyle. He was faring better. The rats had multiple cuts on their bodies.

If what I need is brutality, then fine.

I started with the weakest link.

The monster limped around. I crouched as the jumping mice kicked in the air. I used all my strength, and pounced at the nearest rat. My knife sliced in the air. I felt the metal meeting with flesh.

I buckled my hips and rolled on the ground. There was a shriek as I got back up. I breathed in heavily as blood dripped over my knife.

That put the other 2 rats into a frenzy. My body turned from the onslaught. They reminded me of all the rubber bands Donovan threw at me.

I did a leg sweep during their barrage. The beast’s body hopped away. They got too predictable.

I swing, the rat’s body twisted. I used my palm and struck the creature in the ribs. The beast fell, I drove my blade into the rat’s neck.

I turned to see a rat charge at me. My claws reacted faster than my knife. I wasn't using an open palm this time. My nails sank into the rodent. Biting with my fangs was tempting.

I snapped back to reality.

My knife went into the rodent. It squeaked. I felt a chill behind me. I completely forgot about the other rat.

Yet lyle kept track, he held onto the last rat’s tail. The operative slammed the monster on the ground. I heard the impact. His boot pressed firmly onto the rodent’s head. Lyle brought out his gun, and pointed his revolver into the gnashing teeth. The rat’s teeth chittered as it did so.

“Lights out,” he pulled the trigger.

The rat spasmed before going limp.

I noticed that Lyle’s sword was nowhere beside him, it was on the ground. Lyle went down and picked the metal up.

Looks like I lost myself back there, yet again; I sighed. At least I didn't meow, although I could do without the tail swaying. I gave myself a 3/10 overall for performance.

I walked over to Lyle — over the many corpses.

I felt the bile raise through my throat. Cold sweat trickled down my forehead. My arms learned on the wall to support me. I retched in place. My lungs took in a huge gulp in the air.

I think I’m going to… No, I’m going to be okay. I can get through this.

My wobbly legs picked up strength, and I stood up, “I know what you’re thinking, Lyle. You don’t have to say anything, since your opinion doesn't matter,” not anymore. “Come on, there’s another entrance. We can explore there.”

Am I flustered? Yeah, a little. More for me rather than Lyle. He doesn’t deserve my respect, not for a person like him. I will ignore the corpses for now, I had a feeling that there was more to the tunnels than what initially seemed.

We went into the room to see an underground warehouse full of mismatched crates. They clumped together into a mess.

Hmm, there wasn’t a hint of rot, dare I take a look? My hands flipped over a crate and peaked over the lid.

“Lyle, stay back!” I yelled.

“Catboy, what is it?” he stood unwavering.

“The crates, they are full of nitroglycerin… dynamite. We should leave before the tunnel blows up.” I said more softly.

He moved past me, and observed the crate, “Old yes, but they are not from here. The storing conditions are too poor for this dynamite to look this good in condition. The bloody cretins must have dragged the explosives down here.” He picked up a stick, “While not ideal, they’ll hold.”

“You’re saying that these bugs are intelligent enough to handle explosives?” I paused.

Lyle spat on the ground in disgust, “Unless you call a baby at their best smart. The bloody cretins know how they explode. Yet they wrap their tiny insect brains why storing them in damp places is a bad idea. There's a queen nearby,” he looked beyond the cave walls.

We checked around until I found a room housing copper tubes.

“A distillery,” I muttered. “From the time before The Prohibition Act. What could this be doing here?”

“Probably was here before The Iron Graveyard gained its name. Hmm, what do we have here?” He studied the tools around us and grabbed an oil lamp. “Help me, or not. I have a better idea.”

He lifted a burlap sack of long-dead barley and carried it over toward the dynamite boxes. I asked what he was doing.

“What does it look like? I’m getting rid of the nest of rats, and killing that disgusting queen. You better get out of here, quick. I’m sure not showing my face around here.

*Snap* *Snap* *Snap*

Sparks flew from his fingers. The oil lamp lit up. He stood at the dynamite, the light illuminated his face. I climbed the cord, away from him.