Quickly taking stock Michael felt the comforting weight of his wrecking bar secured across his back. Looking around he saw no sign of his six-foot grab pole. Too bad, I could have used it as a walking stick. Not understanding where it could have gotten to he decided it was a waste of time to continue looking.

Running his hands down his chest harness and overalls he secured the few pockets hanging open. He was thankful none of the expensive materials inside had tumbled out in his fall, the whole day wasn't a bust.

Feeling the onset of vertigo, he leaned back against the wall for support.

Listening to the faint sound of running water he knew he had no time to waste. The storm had reached the city above, the tunnels around him could flood any second.

Light summer showers were now a thing of the distant past. Storms now were dangerous and violent, bringing torrential floods and destruction in equal measure. Just another change caused by the appearance of the Rifts.

Glancing at the webbing lined corridor Michael couldn’t remember if there was anything beyond. His memory was still jumbled from his earlier fall. It could lead him deeper inside or have an exit shaft at the far end.

Normally he could remember the maze of tunnels like the back of his hand. Only infrequently needing the guidance of his map.

Staring at the shimmering corridor Michael decided it was better to go back the way he had come than risk more of the unknown and possible traps.

Turning towards the empty tunnel behind him he began his trek; backtracking to his path before the detour.

With every step, Michael could feel his vertigo intensifying. Keeping one hand on the nearby wall for support he continued forward.

Arriving at the intersection ahead he looked at the three connecting tunnels. None of the tunnels had markers above them, and he couldn't remember which one led towards the exit.

Michael dismissed the tunnel overflowing with mushrooms on the left when he recognized his handiwork. The sign of his earlier passage obvious by the crushed path of red and white polka-dotted mushrooms running down the center. The colorful mushrooms were Fangcaps, one of the more common fungi found in the tunnels.

They were named so because whenever something passed below its wide cap it would fold down and latch on with the thousands of barbs growing along its gills like a mix of fungus and Venus flytrap. Fortunately, they were easy to avoid by simply stepping straight down on them.

Dismissing his previously traveled passage as it only led deeper into the tunnels, he agonized over his two possible choices. The center tunnel which was partially connected with the one on his left had more of the Fangcaps running its length and bits of webbing and lichen hanging from the ceiling. The one on his right was suspiciously bare stone, nothing along the walls, floor, or ceiling. Both a danger in his current state, one requiring good footwork to circumvent. The other an unknown always dangerous in general especially when he wasn't at his best.

The one thing he could usually rely on down here is how territorial everything was. So depending on the flora or creatures, he could usually make a pretty good guess on what he would find in every tunnel or section. The empty tunnel was…..worrying. He had already fallen a few times in the short trek. He shivered at the thought of one of those tumbles landing him in a patch of the vicious toadstools. The Fangcap's could only be removed by cutting them away, and their barbs bit deep.

He made his choice.

Pulling the wrecking bar from its sheath on his back Michael readied it before heading down the empty tunnel.

Cautiously traveling forward, he could hear the steadily increasing sound of rushing water echoing around him.

Shambling ahead he increased his pace as much as he could while remaining on his feet. The tunnel around him swirling and tilting in his eyes.

Suddenly hearing a loud crunch overtake the constant sound of rushing water, Michael snapped to alertness. Adrenalin surged through him, purging the haze from his mind and steadying his legs.

Straining his eyes he could faintly make out a large silhouette the size of a medium dog along the floor at the edge of his light.

Pausing he rested one hand upon the wall and with the other readied his wrecking bar. If it was dangerous he knew he had no chance of sneaking by. The light flashing from his head and his loud shambling saw to that.

Easing closer Michael released the breath he was holding.

The silhouette resolved into a giant Pillbug resting on the ground. One of the few harmless creatures down here. The likely culprit for the empty tunnels around him. It had most likely eaten the vegetation and small insects that would normally cover every surface of the tunnel.

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Letting his makeshift weapon fall to his side he went to pass the giant insect before freezing in place with his eyes upon it, his heart rate suddenly spiking.

Uh oh.

The Pillbug was slumped over, dead. One of its large eyes a green bloody hole.

Pulling his wrecking bar back in front of his chest Michael looked around nervously. The Pillbug’s natural armor in the form of overlapping chitin plates was as strong as steel, combined with its ability to curl upon itself when threatened made it a living tank.

The nameless creature had gotten the jump on it before it could even react.

This just happened, was it that noise I heard?

Spooked by the body and the missing killer Michael stumbled further down the tunnel, his head on a swivel. He couldn't risk the time, to turn back and trying the other tunnel. He had already come too far.

After walking for a further minute he came to another intersection.

He sighed in relief, his adrenalin began fading away. There were marked signs above each of the five tunnels around him.

After doing a quick scan for any lurking danger and seeing nothing amiss. He tucked his wrecking bar into his armpit and pulled out his laminated map of the tunnels. Just as he was orienting it to the markers above he felt something slam into his back.

The quick scan wasn't enough.

The impact sent Michael sprawling. He had just enough time to get his arms out in front of him to break his fall. His wrecking bar flew out from under his arm clanking on the stone floor.

He could feel something clawing at his lower back slicing through his heavy work harness and overalls like tissue paper. Reaching the skin beneath it bit down tearing a chunk of flesh from his back the size of a baby's fist.

Whimpering in pain he rolled onto his back to try and crush it beneath him. He felt it leap away.

Scrambling into a crouch he looked around to catch sight of his unknown assailant.

Miraculously, his helmet was still on his head, allowing him to get a clear view of his attacker. It stood just inside one of the tunnels in front of him. The dizziness's from his vertigo showing him double before merging into one.

A rat. A Fucking Rat. A Fucking Rat with creepy-ass long legs.

The rat crouched down in front of him. It had oversized teeth and legs three sizes too large making it almost look like a spider sitting on the floor. On the floor between them rested his wrecking bar.

Staying in a crouch he moved towards it holding eye contact. The Rat watched him patiently with its beady black eyes almost daring him to try. It was chewing on a piece of red bloody flesh, his flesh.

No way am I getting eaten by a rat of all things, well any more than I already have.

Getting close to the wrecking bar he lowered his hand to grab it. Just as the tips of his fingers touched the leather grip, the Spider Rat made its move.

Tensing all four of its legs beneath it, it snapped its legs apart like springs, launching towards him in one explosive action almost too fast to see.

His adrenalin once more surging Michael leaned backward to dodge. He almost made it.

Just as the spider was passing over his head it reached down with one of its long legs and caught a tuft of his black hair hanging from below his helmet. Using it as a fulcrum it swung onto the back of his helmet scrabbling across it towards his face. Its mouth wide open with a long strand of bloody drool dripping from within.

Letting out a manly squeal, Michael did the only thing he could think of. Imitating a pretzel he continued to fold backward, twisting his shoulders towards the ground and slammed his helmet into the stone below with the full weight of his two hundred pound frame behind it.

Michael felt warm liquid squirt across his face as he felt the wet crunch of the rat squish between his helmet and the hard stone.

Lifting his head he saw in the now crimson-colored light of his headlamp the rat pancaked to the ground, popped like a cherry tomato. Its legs were broken and its stomach had burst in a splash of red.

Rolling to his side he couldn't help but laugh. Take that you little bastard!

Getting a whiff of the sticky liquid streaming down his face his celebrations ended as quickly as they began, he couldn't hold it in any longer. It was too much on top of mild nausea and vertigo.

Michael vomited all over the rat in front of him, splashing it down his chest and across the floor.

Gagging at the smell of his vomit mixed with the rancid smell wafting from the Rat, Michael crawled as quickly away as his shaky limbs would take him.

Holy shit, that's nasty. I would fight another spider rat for a shower…well okay maybe not but damn do I want one.

Slowly climbing to his feet Michael made his way over to his wayward map and wrecking bar. Staring at the useless piece of metal he decided then and there to get more helmets, one for every day of the week. Enough helmets he could fill a pool. Pausing for a moment he realized he was probably, definitely going into shock. He could no longer feel the stabbing agony from the wound on his back.

Small favors.

Holding down the vomit still trying to rise in the back of his throat Michael picked up his map. Quickly finding his location in the crimson light and where he needed to go he looked at the far left tunnel. The exit was just inside, a hundred feet and he would be out.

Hearing a pitiful squeaking sound behind him Michael looked back over his shoulder, the rat was still alive. Looking at its broken legs he sighed. Walking back over he scooped up his wrecking bar and smashed it across its skull ending its misery.

Sorry for doubting you wrecking bar, you were not so useless after all.

Shambling his way forward, the water he had been dreading finally made its appearance. Rushing towards him from the darkness with mystery bits bobbing along its surface it rolled over his feet resting just above the ankles.

Wading forward as fast as he could Michael carefully placed every step fully before taking another. He could feel the current getting stronger as the water rose. Now above his knees, he felt something in the water slam into him, pinwheeling his arms he kept his balance. He knew if he fell now he would never get back up. The icy touch of the water on his ankles was already draining away the last of his strength.

Just as he was beginning to give up hope he saw the ladder a dozen feet ahead at the side of the tunnel. Fighting against the current, he made it the last few steps. Grasping hold of the metal rungs, he tried and failed to hook his wrecking bar back into its sheath across his back. Unable to climb with it in his hand he took a moment to thank it for its service before confining it to a watery grave.

He began his climb to the hatch above.

Taking hold of the exit door's latch he grabbed it, twisted, and pushed it open.

Finally free!