The elevator doors slid open as we reached the lobby, a sea of people populating the rooms oceanic display.

I exited the elevator and helped Paris out the same as I did last time. Several heads turned to watch us exit, curious at the new faces.

I had memorized the location of the access point and began to have Paris ‘guide’ us to the location.

We side stepped conversations and any attempted introductions whenever possible. We had had to cut through the crowd to reach our destination. When we could not avoid the small talk Paris quickly shut it down by claiming she needed the bathroom.

The people who she told that to looked quite embarrassed and taken aback. They quickly allowed us to drop the conversation and leave.

Paris kept having to stifle giggles at their faces.

It wasn’t until we had made it to the edge of the crowd that we encountered someone who wouldn’t let us by.

“Hello there darling! Who might you be?” A woman asked.

Glancing at our new obstacle she seemed to be in her mid-thirties. She had forgone a dress to wear a dark business suit, the Red Door logo positioned over her breast.

“I am Paris van der Reu, what might your name be?” Paris answered politely.

The woman leaned back before extending her hand, “Wow, a Reu! It is certainly a pleasure to meet you. My name is Jane, I am the cities director of operations.”

Crap.

Paris took her hand and shook it in greeting. The handshake going on for an oddly long amount of time.

Paris had to tug her hand away.

“It is wonderful to have met you Jane, but I’m afraid I have to use the restroom. If you would excuse me.” Paris stated, using the well-practiced excuse she’d been using the whole night.

Jane stepped in Paris’s path with a strained smile on her face.

“Miss Reu, with this city being so far removed from any water supply, I am very interested in the possibility of business between us. Perhaps we could discuss dealings some?” The woman asked.

Paris looked pointedly at the woman, “That sounds like a wonderful idea, let us talk when I get out of the bathroom.” her voice sounded strained.

Paris moved to step away, but the woman blocked her again.

What is her problem?

“I heard that your family just drilled a new well along the Antarctic Claim. Does your family plan on making a pipeline north at all?” The woman asked hurriedly.

“It is a possibility, but I really must be going now.” Paris responded through gritted teeth. Her face scrunched up in frustration.

Paris tried to move past her again just to be blocked.

I had enough.

“Excuse us Ma’am, but Miss Reu needs to use the facilities. Step aside.” I said in an emotionless voice.

I grabbed Paris’s hand and pushed past the woman; her face flicking to anger before it returned to a neutral smile.

I ushered Paris to our destination quickly, much more direct now when dismissing people. I hoped to create some distance between us and the woman.

We made it to the access a few moments later, a simple set of elevator doors.

I plugged my phone into a socket next to the doors, sending a text to Kassidy as I did so.

I turned to Paris; she was balling her fists against her dress. She was nervous.

“You did good Paris.” I told her.

“Thanks.” She responded faintly; her normal loud attitude disrupted.

“Hey, what's wrong?” I asked.

The little girl swayed from foot to foot.

“That woman seemed weird.” She responded.

“She was just a pushy salesman, nothing more. Don’t worry about it, ok?” I reassured her.

“Okay.” Paris replied staring off into the distance at nothing in particular.

I nodded my head. I would have to keep an eye on her.

The elevator beeped and the doors slid open. I now had access to the underground.

Kassidy shot me text, “You got this Cee.”

Her genuine attempt at reassurance produced the opposite effect in me. The woman being polite was off-putting. I preferred the more crazy version of the woman.

Seeing no one watching us, I grabbed Paris’s hand and brought her into the elevator.

I slapped the button to take us to the lower floors. With a lurch the elevator lowered down into the earth, into the place where we would find Tom.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Do you think Tom will be okay?” Paris asked from besides me.

“I hope so Paris...I hope so.”

I didn’t want to think about what I would do if he wasn’t. I didn’t trust myself to think clearly in that case.

My first priority was to Paris, as long as I remembered that, I should be fine.

The elevator stopped; we had arrived at our floor.

The doors opened to reveal a white sterile hallway, not a person in sight.

I pulled my rifle out from under my suit. I positioned its butt against my shoulder and put the sling over my head.

Paris stood behind me as I walked forward, her own gun in her hands.

I recalled the path to Tom’s holdings, following it to the best of my ability. Signs helped to guide me as we walked.

We passed by numerous rooms filled with offices, storage, and laboratories. I couldn’t discern what they each contained but there were large amounts of glass ware. We could be close to the medicine research branch, which was directly adjacent to Tom’s testing rooms.

I took a left at a sign pointing towards a place called ‘enclosures’.

I braced myself.

A locked door blocked my path, I connected my phone to it and it opened a moment later.

It seemed that Kassidy was still there to help.

We paced inside, Paris clinging onto the back of my suit with one hand.

The room reminded me of the place I first woke up in. The walls were lined with cells, going far into the distance. This place was well lit though, unlike my own birthplace.

As we walked I began to wish this place was also dark.

Each cell had a plexiglass wall allowing one a view in, the glass was laced with metal reinforcements. The cells themselves were white padded walls with a simple twin mattress in the corner, a sink and toilet set off to one side.

The occupants though, looking at them made me sick. Paris pushed her face into my side, attempting to shield herself from the scary ‘monsters’.

Those monsters were people, or what was left of them. Many had large deformities and open wounds. Sores coating every inch of skin, limbs missing or added on like Frankenstein's monster. Several of the people had been so deformed that I wasn’t sure if they were even human to begin with.

With each cell I passed I could see mouths screaming in pain even though I could hear no sound. One man was smashing his face into his sink repeatedly, the wounds closing each time he stopped, laughing as they did so. His silent cackle filled me with dread.

The disgust I had first felt when I witnessed these people grew with each moment, with each step further in.

Nearing the end of the gruesome line of cells we came to another area, an open medical room. Several dozen operating tables were arranged about the room, a single small form strapped to one of them.

I ran up to the occupied table.

A young boy in a medical gown, no older than seven, was strapped to the table by metal clamps, a bundle of tubes fed into his arms, which themselves were marred with red circles. Attached to his head was a metal apparatus scanning his face with a constant blue light.

“That’s one of the Bouncer boys”, Paris said quietly.

She took the child's hand, “Noah?”

There was no response.

I looked across the table and medical equipment. I found a small screen with a variety of options for the table. I pushed the one labled release.

With a snap the restraints on the boy were released.

I reached over and took a risk, tugging out all the tubes running into him. Nothing happened so I removed the metal helmet.

I tapped the boy on the cheek, “Noah. Noah, you have to wake up.”

The boy stirred slightly before his eyes flew open, they moved around erratically. His mouth opened into a terrified scream.

“NO NO NO NO NO NO!”

I scooped him up quickly into a hug, trying to quiet him.

“Hey buddy, it's okay. We are here to help, Paris is here. Look.”

In his panic the boy caught a glimpse of Paris and froze in confusion before simply breaking into tears.

“Noah what happened? Where are your brothers?” Paris asked the boy cautiously.

Her fear had been replaced with concern.

Noah looked up at her, his eyes deep and hollow, “They killed them.”

Noah tucked himself into my shoulder, his body weak and frail.

Paris whispered to me, “He was a triplet.”

My heart, already strained, broke in two, the amount of hate inside it flowing out. The vents on my side whirred to life of their own admission. I would not let this continue.

I set Noah down to sit on the table and looked him in the eyes, “Noah. I need to know where everyone else is so I can get us all out.”

Noah sniffed lightly and nodded his head slowly. He lowered himself off the table and started to stumble towards a set of doors.

We followed him to the passageway and pushed the doors open.

Lights flicked on as the doors opened, revealing a glass chamber holding four more children.

Tom was among them.

Paris ran up to the glass, hitting it with her fist.

“Tom! It’s me! Paris! I’m here to save you!” Paris shouted at him excitedly.

The boy jumped at the sudden noise, snapping his head quickly to look at her.

He crawled over to where she was, looking at her through the glass.

“Paris? No, you can't be here, you have to leave!” He said, immediately trying to look out for her again.

I walked over to chamber’s door and used the panel on the side to open it, the door whooshed as it opened.

The kids all stood up, only four of them here of the original dozens.

They wore the same medical gowns as Noah, their arms marred with identical red circles. They were thin and pale, their eyes blood shot and open wide. Their hair had been shaved short; Tom’s long hair gone.

I turned to the boy who now stood alone against the glass.

“Tom, where is everyone else?” I asked, dreading the answer.

Tom just shook his head in response, his now cut hair allowing me to see his eyes for the first time.

These are them.

I lowered my head slightly but then stood backup straight. I had lost these kids before; I wouldn’t lose them again. I ushered the children out of the chamber.

Tom was the first out of the glass enclosure, his previous hesitancy had vanished.

I nodded in approval.

Paris ran up and hugged him, lifting him off his feet.

“Wow you’re so skinny now!” Paris exclaimed, “I can pick you right up ha ha.”

I envied her ignorance.

I turned to look at the kids and their small frail stature. They seemed like they might blow away at the slightest gust. It would be difficult to get them all out of here.

I turned to Tom who was busy talking to Paris, “Tom, we have to get out of here quickly, they might already know we are here.”

Tom nodded and went over to the other kids. I called Paris over.

“Yeah?” she asked.

I leaned close to her and whispered.

“Paris, we may have found them, but they are very hurt right now. I’m going to need your help getting them out. You know what I mean?” I asked her.

She nodded her head, “Yeah, leave it to me. I will watch the babies.”

I gave her a thumbs up, that was the closest she ever came to agreeing outright.

I approached the exit door, rifle in hand.

The new path was to follow a series of corridors to a motor pool near the surface. From there we could either take a vehicle and flee the city immediately, or go back to grab the pickup, whichever was safer.

I looked to my side to find Paris flanking me. The other children, including Tom, had gathered behind me. They stood there swaying side from side; I couldn’t tell if it was because of their nerves or their current shape.

I turned back to the exit; we would have to pass by all the cells again. I wouldn’t be able to cover all the children’s eyes.

Paris grabbed the side of my suit, looking up at me to read my faceless expression.

“It’s gonna be okay, don’t worry. You said it yourself; you’re a guardian. We will be fine, I trust you.” She told me softly with a warm smile on her face.

I smiled internally and looked back out towards the cells.

I couldn't do everything, but for Paris and the other children... I sure as hell would try.

I stepped out of the room and made for the exit.