Adrian kept checking the old clock that he placed on the table next to him. It was almost ten. He was walking around the table for the last hour or maybe even more.
He glanced at the clock, then grabbed the bag from beside the door and set it on the table. One by one, he unpacked the contents, checking each item for the tenth time before carefully placing everything back inside.
Everything in the bag was just as it should be. He took out the wallet, inspected it, and found everything still inside.
"Everything's still here, just like the last ten times I checked," he muttered.
He circled the table restlessly, his eyes flicking to the clock every time he passed it.
He was definitely a bit nervous, maybe more than he had expected. This was his first time doing something illegal or anything even close with this much danger. Maybe it wasn't that dangerous, but still... his heart was pounding louder than it should have.
He had tried sitting down and calming himself quite a few times, but it always ended with him circling the table and glancing at the clock. Maybe this is what it's like when you get a bit of hope and motivation to live again.
After maybe six hundred and twenty-three more ticks of the clock since the last time he checked the bag, there was a knock on the door.
He glanced at the door, then back at the clock. It was just a few minutes before ten. He was early.
Letting Alex in, they spent the next 20 minutes going over the plan again. Alex did notice that he was nervous, but didn't say anything.
When they finished, Adrian checked everything one last time. The bag, the route, the small details they'd gone over a dozen times. He nodded to Alex.
"Alright," he said, more to himself than anyone else.
They headed out.
The way to the entrance to the underground was as one would expect from the slums. Some sat in silence, waiting for death, while others scavenged desperately for anything to eat. It was a heartbreaking sight, but Adrian had grown used to it. Just a few days ago, he'd been starving too. The only difference was that, at least, he had a place to sleep.
A man lay slumped beside a bench, mouth foaming from the new drug they were flooding the streets with. It costs more than food. Not that it mattered. People still bought it. Anything to feel something before the end.
Drugs were the biggest killers in the slums, second only to starvation. And yet, the government did nothing. They would probably hand out awards to the dealers for helping clear out the slums.
"Desperation is a funny thing," Adrian mumbled, mostly to himself.
Alex gave him a sad look but said nothing.
The entrances to the underground were always patrolled by drones and sometimes by police. As they approached the old clinic, they slowed their pace. Alex motioned for Adrian to keep quiet, pressing a finger to his lips. From that point on, they didn't speak.
Adrian just nodded and followed behind Alex, his heart started beating faster and faster. They were staying right next to the walls of the buildings, and whenever there was a cover, they went for it.
At moments, they just stayed still, even without breathing, to hear the sound of drones, but when there was no sound, they just moved on.
Then, after about ten minutes of slowly approaching the clinic, they finally saw it. It was a three-story building, the walls covered with graffiti. Probably from the old days when you could approach the building without consequences.
The plan they had come up with was simple: once they got close to the building, they would scout the path ahead and check for any drones or police patrols. If the path was clear, they would sprint to the entrance.
The next five minutes felt like torture. Adrian stayed close behind Alex, waiting for the signal to run.
There were too many thoughts going around in his head. What if they get caught? What if they are seen by a drone?
His face was pale from holding his breath, and his knuckles were white from clutching his hands too tightly.
Lost in thought, he suddenly felt a sharp slap on his head. Looking up, he saw Alex watching him with a confused expression.
"Breathe," Alex whispered slowly.
He took a deep breath, and color slowly returned to his face. Just as he was about to ask Alex if they were ready to go, he heard a buzz getting closer to them by the second.
Adrian froze.
They had rehearsed the plan countless times. He had run through it in his mind hundreds of times. He was supposed to dive into the nearest shadow, but instead, his body refused to move. His heart hammered so hard it felt like it might burst through his chest.
The buzzing grew nearer.
He knew the sound. He heard it multiple times a day. It had become nothing more than background noise—until now. Now, it was the last thing he wanted to hear.
Then, without warning, he was pulled hard.
His breath caught as Alex yanked him into the nearest shadow, pressing him flat against the cold wall. He felt the cracked walls pressing on his skin. Above them, the drone's sharp whir grew louder, its spotlight sweeping dangerously close.
Adrian's heart pounded in his ears. He stopped breathing again.
The next few seconds felt like an eternity.
The drone just passed overhead harmlessly.
Adrian's shoulders sagged with relief. He let out a slow breath, careful not to make a sound. Alex gave him a tight nod, a silent signal that the danger had passed… for now.
Just as Adrian started to calm himself, Alex yanked him sharply. Without a word, they broke into a sprint, racing toward the clinic entrance. The pounding of their footsteps echoed in the empty street.
He ran behind Alex, trying to keep his steps steady and praying he wouldn't trip. The sprint lasted less than twenty seconds, but it felt much longer. Alex reached the clinic first and dove through the nearest broken window without hesitation.
Adrian followed—but his foot caught the ledge on his first attempt, and he slammed into the wall instead. His heart spiked.
He backed up, took a quick breath, and jumped again. This time, he made it through.
When he finally slipped inside, Adrian saw Alex waiting by a door just ahead. Without a word, Alex gave him a quick glance, then opened the door and slipped through. Adrian followed close behind, closing the door behind him.
Their footsteps echoed faintly as they moved quickly down the narrow hallway. The walls were cracked, the floor littered with old debris and broken tiles.
They didn't stop. Within moments, they reached the end of the hallway.
To the right, a set of stairs led down to the basement where the entrance to the underground was hidden.
The problem was that the path to the entrance was covered with cameras and motion-tracing devices.
Alex paused for a moment to get his bearings, then headed to the door on the left. Once inside, he slowly began clearing a pile of junk from the corner of the room. First cardboard, then pieces of old rotting wood.
After clearing everything away, Alex jumped in without hesitation. Adrian followed. His heart was still pounding, his breaths uneven, but he followed anyway.
There was less than a two-meter drop. Adrian looked around cautiously, but Alex quickly gestured for him to move. He then placed a ladder he got from somewhere and began covering up the hole.
Looking around, he noticed that they were still in the clinic, so he just waited for Alex to finish. When he finished, they started moving again.
They went through a few cracked walls, probably avoiding the security system. When they got to the final room, Alex mentioned again to stay quiet.
He moved to the corner of the room. After slowly and silently clearing the junk, he pulled out a bag. Then he told Adrian to follow, and he took off the bag that was on his back. Adrian did the same.
Then, in one of the cracks in the wall, which was just large enough to fit a small child, Alex placed the bag and slipped in headfirst. After struggling for a minute or two, he managed to squeeze through, then Adrian followed.
First, the bag went in, then his head, followed by a lot of squeaky movement, but finally, he managed to squeeze through.
The space was suffocatingly tight. He could barely move his hand, and every shift of his hips or shoulders sent a jolt of pressure through his ribs. Slowly, carefully, he twisted and inched forward, feeling the rough edges of the cracked walls scrape against his skin. His breaths grew shallow and quick, the air growing heavier with each second. Panic began to creep in—what if he got stuck? What if this narrow crawl turned into a trap with no way out? The walls seemed to close in, mocking his every attempt to move. He forced himself to stay calm, focusing on each small, deliberate movement to escape this suffocating squeeze.
He was moving painfully slowly, each inch gained a struggle against the tight walls pressing in on all sides.
Every scrape of the walls was painful, but the real fight was inside. Breath quickening, panic creeping, heart pounding like a warning drum. Adrian clenched his teeth and forced his thoughts away from the dark. Focus. Move.
After some time, the bag in front of him was suddenly pulled aside.
Adrian blinked and saw Alex's face illuminated from below by a flashlight held under his chin, casting eerie shadows. A crooked, almost sinister smile spread across Alex's face.
Alex offered a hand, and Adrian grasped it without hesitation. Slowly, he was pulled out of the crushing space. Once free, he closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.
He made it. He escaped that dead trap. A small, tired smile appeared on his face.
Adrian looked at Alex, who still wore that creepy, smug smile.
"Welcome to the Crypts," Alex said, his voice low and dripping with dark amusement, followed by a chilling laugh.