Jasper National Park, Alberta, Canada
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Jonathan Bant was clocking into his shift as a janitor and mechanic at the local administrative office of Jasper National Park. He's a simple man of average build and height, a slight potbelly from a new bar that opened with some of the best burgers and beer he's had in Canada. Today's not too special of a day expect for those in law enforcement as it's the one year anniversary of a massive drug bust from a joins US-Canada operation to squash a drug cartel starting to take root in the Southwestern Canadian provinces. He's pretty sure, from what rumors he's overheard as well as the news, that the team got lucky as a convoy holding the cartel's head honchos was apparently just driving down the highway through the park when an American agent on break recognized the cars and called it in, leading to a pursuit and gunfight that ended quickly when a log truck had a tire blow from a stray bullet and jack-knifed right into the speeding convoy, stopping it as logs flew out of the trailer and buried the cars. Frankly, Jon feels like that this was a moment that almost felt like it'd fit in on Final Destination 2, but he's not gonna complain about the outcome.
Stepping into the office, he can see a light celebration underway, with a couple extra boxes of donuts out and some of the folks who were a part of the taskforce in some way getting some pats on their backs. Nothing crazy, he'll just take a donut or two though.
Jon's not focusing on his coworkers however. He's instead focusing on what's coming after his shift. A couple of treasure seekers, including himself, say that there's a cache the cartel left behind in a hideout they made in Jasper National Park full of riches the government hasn't found yet. It's a pretty tall tale and not many believe it, but he's sure there's something left behind. After today, he'll have the weekend to himself to scour the one area he hasn't checked yet, the Rockies. Jon's been putting this off as long as possible since he's no climber, but he's had no luck anywhere else in the park. He'll handle it though. Not like he's got any plans to take on Mt. Robson.
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It's Sunday, and Jon still hasn't had any luck yet at all! He's been scouring the base of the mountain range, exploring caves and canyons as best he can without scaling cliff faces or steep rock piles. He's starting to get frustrated he won't find anything again. Unless his goal has just been buried in the middle of nowhere, it's got to be in one of the caves. At least he doesn't need to deal with mice and rats though, that'd be a pain.
Spending hours hiking along the mountain range, he's ready to call it in for the day until something spots his eye. Pulling out his binoculars, he scans the landscape until he finds what stuck out to him. There, atop a small bit of ground and shrouded in trees is a bit of concrete and steel reflecting in the moonlight. All of Jonathan's previous frustrations evaporate as he starts to get giddy. This has to be it. He's almost ready to run to it until he looks at the ground and spots a problem. There's a canyon stretching in front of what he's spotted. His heart sinks as he runs forward, huffing as he looks over the edge and spots a pile of rotting wood at the bottom. Damn, seems like there was a bridge but its collapsed. He can't see any way to reach the other side either without some specialized gear which he doesn't has. Shit...
Marking the area on his map, Jon turns back, determined to come back next week ready to get across. Of course, he can afford to gloat a little bit on the forum as long as he doesn't reveal any detail about where he's going.
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Finally, he's back. it's put a bit of a dent in his savings, but this could all make up for it and more. Go Pro on his helmet set to record, he pulls out the longest ladder he could buy at his local hardware store. It's been hell to drag it through the forest, but for some reason it felt slightly easier after awhile. Maybe he just figured out how to ignore the soreness, he doesn't really care.
Extending the ladder to its full height, he grunts as he lifts it up vertically before letting it drop on the other side, the end hitting the far ledge and the whole ladder shaking as it rings from the impact. Jumping on it, Jon weighs it down, settling it before making sure it's secure and then carefully crawling across, taking it slow and steady as he does his best not to look down.
Soon enough, Jon makes it across. The man hugs the ground, kissing the dirt and enjoying being back on stable land, ignoring how he'd have to do it again to go back the way he came. Looking back up, he shakily climbs back to his feet and pushes through the underbrush, his body shivering, he figures in excitement, as an old bunker entrance comes into view.
'Bingo,' he thinks, a wide smile growing on his face, 'This has to be it! A bunker!' He's so excited he doesn't even think, jumping to his feet and rushing ahead, gripping the slightly rusted door in front of him. It's a heavily rusted one, but it seems to be more of a hatch and not a pneumatic-powered one like on a more modern fallout shelter which is good for him cause he can't see a way to open it otherwise from the outside. Plus it's already slightly ajar, just enough for a small rabbit to fit he thinks.
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Bracing his foot on a solid-looking part of the concrete frame, Jon grabs the handle and heaves. He grunts as his muscles strain, the rusted steel squealing as inch-by-inch, the door is opened more and more. Gradually, he makes headway, jaw clenching until he hears something snaps and then promptly finds himself flat on his ass.
Taking a moment, dazed from the sudden drop, he gets giddy again, seeing the door now almost fully open. Climbing back to his feet, he clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to work the soreness out of them from gripping the handle so hard. Seems he broke the rust off the hinges, he didn't even know he was strong enough to manage that before!
Stepping forward towards the darkness, he pulls out his flashlight to illuminate the space and then pauses as he hears something whirr up in the distance followed by the lights turning on, albeit flickering and dimly. That... shouldn't have happened... Is there someone there? There couldn't be surely? Just a simple look around shows a layer of dust on everything, and the door was practically sealed shut!
Listening closer, he can hear the whirring from deeper within. Sounds like one of those portable generators from Home Hardware except scaled up. Okay... something is definitely off... generators don't just turn on in abandoned bunkers without someone being present to turn them on. He's sincerely tempted to turn around right then and there, but if he does then he's going to be a laughing stock if people hear he found nothing, and he'll be even more humiliated if someone else stumbles across this place and it turns out the treasure was inside and he missed it because he lost his nerve.
Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and steps in, taking a closer look around and finding the initial room to be some kind of entrance or welcoming area. There's no clear signage about just what this place was, but the receptionist-looking desk is probably as good of a place to start as any other, seeing as how he can't see any cabinets or drawers anywhere else. Rifling through the drawers, he is more unnerved how empty they are, finding only dust and cobwebs.
"Creepy as shit..." He mutters to himself, turning around looking at the only other door in the room dead center in the wall opposite to the entrance. It's just a door, it shouldn't be freaking him out this much and yet it is. Grabbing the handle, he forces himself to push it open and freezes when he looks into the hall. What gave him pause, was the the furniture barricading the corridor? The dry and faded reddish-brown stains on the walls and floor? The snapped live wire arcing electrical sparks? No, it's none of those. Instead it's the single, sickly-looking rat sitting on its haunches, looking as startled as a rat can at his appearance.
Jon's mind races, as this is the first time in a decade he's seen a rat, and as any self-respected Albertan can, quickly thinks about how to kill this tiny furry menace instead of hunting for the treasure. He makes the first move, and the rat squeals as it darts away quicker than it seemingly should be able too, running into a nearby vent way too small for him to even consider reaching an arm in. Damn, now he's definitely going to need to report this place when he gets back to civilization.
Shaking his head, he looks up, taking in the rest of the corridor. There's only two other doors he can reach, with the sight of the barricade making him pause again. It doesn't look the most stable, but he's sure that that has to be proof the cartel was here and there's probably a way around it.
Turning to the door on his right first, he walks forward, carefully stepping around the puddle before opening the room up, seeing nothing but a small closet. Damn, that's pretty... underwhelming. There's literally nothing here except for some pipe valves and a junction box. Opening the thing up shows how much he doesn't want to touch it anymore, the protective plate missing and the box itself sporting a mix of fuses and breaker switches seemingly at random. Yeah... he's definitely just going to step away from that and try not to have nightmares about how close he came to electrocuting himself like an idiot.
Walking across the hall, he moves to the only other door still closed and slowly opens it, trying not to wince as the squeaky hinges squeal on him. Nothing happens though, and he sees the room to be much bigger, which is good, and also filled with smashed, shattered, twisted, and scattered debris, which is not good.
As he looks around, he is deafened when he hears something roar, the noise enough to make his ears bleed, and is almost knocked over as the floor suddenly shakes. Eyes snapping forward, he spots something straight out of the nightmares of humanity, a bloodied, skinless beast rushing him. His heart drops as fear takes over.
He screams, hands coming up in a futile attempt to defend himself before a massive fist slams into his midsection, breaking almost every single one of ribs simultaneously alongside his spine, and rupturing most of his vital organs too. If that wasn't enough to kill him instantly, getting flung headfirst across and hall and into the junction box, the thing detonating into sparks and slagged shrapnel certainly finishes the job.
Jonathan Bant's smoking, perforated, and pulverized corpse lays there on the ground in front of the now detonated junction box, a look of pain and fear frozen onto his face with the floor plunging into darkness once more. Watching it all, stunned from the sudden brutality and ease at which the human died, is the dungeon.