453: Three hundred and ten.
‘Safe’ basent 453: Three hundred and ten.
‘Safe’ basent “`”Divinity, if you truly exist, please co forth and save us now…”
Oliver knelt before the pulpit, his eyes tightly shut as he whispered softly.
The church, bathed in dark crimson, had a long carpet that stretched to the front of the pulpit.
The long benches on either side laid bare, the empty seats seed devoid of presence, yet they felt crowded, silently witnessing the scene.
Oliver scoured his mory for all the prayers he knew and quietly opened his eyes.
The broken windows showed clouds outside as dark red as blood, with circling shadows that never dissipated.
As expected, it was futile.
Mocking himself, Oliver got up and began moving benches to barricade the door, along with the corpse of the monstrous creature that nearly frightened him to death, bat-like in size.
After blocking the door, Oliver started to search for the entrance to the basent inside the church.
He didn’t know where it was and had to find it the hard way.
It didn’t take Oliver long to find the entrance to the basent; he was fortunate enough to find an oil lamp beneath the pulpit.
There wasn’t much kerosene left, but it was enough to last a few hours.
With the lamp’s glow, Oliver found a tal door handle on the wall to the left of the pulpit.
The entrance, pitch black and foreboding, lood before him, with not a sliver of light from below.
No one in the basent?
Oliver thought to himself and, just to be safe, left a gap in the stone door wide enough to slip through if there was a monster in the basent so he could quickly escape back to the ground floor and shut the stone door.
Holding the oil lamp, Oliver silently descended the stone stairs that seed exceedingly long to him, and slowly peeked around the corner at the bottom.
The basent ca into view.
Bloodstains and scattered clothing and luggage on the floor made Oliver feel a bit uneasy.
He stood still, watching silently for several minutes.
The quiet and spacious basent remained unchanged.
With a little more courage, Oliver stepped out from the corner and into the basent.
The fla within the lamp shade flickered suddenly, causing Oliver’s heart to skip a beat, but it was only for an instant before the fla stabilized once more.
Bookshelves, a desk, shelves, cabinets, a single bed, bloodstains, clothing, and an empty space—there was nothing unusual in the basent.
There were just no survivors.
The bloodstains had dried up, and Oliver did not know where they had co from or where the people had gone, but for now, he was temporarily safe.
Oliver’s search of the basent turned up clothing and dolls in the unclaid luggage, even a strange sculpture of a human body resembling a beetle.
However, he found no food or water.
He did find kerosene in a cabinet, enough for him to stay in the basent for a long ti.
As the quiet settled, Oliver began to sll the sour stench of his own body.
It was nothing; he had been through much filthier situations.
Oliver picked out so fitting clothes from the scattered items on the floor to change into, then sat down by the single bed.
The bed, not particularly soft, made him let out an involuntary groan as his body relaxed after being on the run all night.
Fatigue and sleepiness, long suppressed, started to wash over him.
His mind beca muddled, yearning to lie down and rest, yet he felt as though he had forgotten sothing.
Oliver was too tired; all he could think of was that he had refilled the oil lamp and there was nothing to worry about.
Even if there was—he felt as if even death could not stop him from sleeping at this point.
He managed to move his legs onto the bed and find a comfortable position.
He quickly fell into a deep sleep.
The kerosene lamp by the bed continued to glow, while darkness consud the farther reaches.
Hours later, Oliver woke up, his body feeling sore and lethargic.
The light of the oil lamp comforted him.
With no windows in the basent, perhaps it was almost dawn outside.
When would the rescue arrive?
Would Jojo already know the news about Shadow Town?
In the quiet basent, Oliver made wild guesses.
Hu—
Gradually, a sharp sound of wind began to rise in the basent, barely perceptible.
Oliver froze, searching for the source of the wind sound with a puzzled look—eventually pinning it behind the bookshelf.
Why would there be a sound of wind behind the bookshelf?“`
Oliver couldn’t understand it.
He placed the oil lamp on the sideboard near the entrance and walked over to the bookshelf, pressing his ear against it to listen.
The howling of the wind through the crevices beca clear.
Was there space behind the bookcase?
Oliver wondered as he discovered that the bookshelf could be moved.
He had a faint suspicion, so he went around to the side to push the bookshelf.
Scratch—scratch—
The scraping of the bookshelf’s bottom against the stone floor and grit sounded abrasive, and as Oliver pushed the bookshelf, he suddenly felt a cool breeze from the gap between the bookshelf and the wall.
What in the world…
As Oliver continued to push the bookshelf, a dim tunnel was revealed before his eyes.
A muddy, rotting stench wafted from the pitch-black depths of the tunnel.
How could there be another tunnel?
Deep down, Oliver wanted to retreat, to avoid the endless, unknown dark passage.
But suddenly, a figure attacked him from behind, pouncing onto his back.
Startled, Oliver hadn’t even had a chance to turn around before he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.
“Ah!”
Oliver scread, shaking off the presence on his back, and looked at the attacker with fear, then in an instant his expression turned to astonishnt.
It was a little boy.
“Kid, are you out of your mind!”
Oliver couldn’t help but curse in anger, turning to look at his shoulder, a piece of bone embedded in his armpit.
The next mont, Oliver’s rage was extinguished by chilling, bone-piercing cold water.
In front of Oliver, the little boy tore off his own skin.
With goosebumps rising, Oliver, full of terror, didn’t think twice before panicking into the just-discovered tunnel, where a cold breeze blew.
He was swallowed by the darkness.
…
The bookshelf was pushed back to its original position, concealing the gloomy tunnel leading to Shadow Swamp.
The putrid swamp breeze and the howling sound disappeared along with it, and the basent returned to being spacious and quiet.
“Maybe the townspeople hiding in the church went into the swamp…” Fran murmured to himself, not wanting the fla nad hope to be extinguished just yet.
Jojo found an oil can next to the cabinet where the oil lamp was placed, filled the lamp with kerosene, and put the lampshade back on.
The fla flickered, gradually stabilizing.
After setting down the oil can, Jojo looked towards Lu Li, who was walking around the basent, observing.
Scattered on the stone floor were luggage and clothes.
Many oil lamps lay disrupted on the ground, and kerosene seeped into the crevices of the stone, nearly dried out.
There were a large number of footprints, which disappeared only at the entrance.
Dried bloodstains of a dark red color were everywhere, with unknown sources.
It was as if no bodies or flesh-like remnants remained in the basent as if the scene had been cleaned.
The footprints in front of the bookshelf and the entrance had already been scattered and covered by the ceaseless wind, making it difficult to determine whether these townspeople had fled back to the surface or run into the dark passage.
They could only guess from the moved bookshelf that soone had escaped into the tunnel.
In any case, the townspeople who had taken refuge in the church basent left in a hurry, as if sothing had suddenly happened.
And once again, they lost the clue.
Unless Lu Li went through the tunnel into Shadow Swamp.
“Let’s take a break.”
Jojo said disappointingly, hugging her knees and sitting down next to the oil lamp.
The police station, the cellar, the church—this was their third miss.
The continuous failures were dismbering Jojo’s confidence.
She lifted her head, wanting to know what Lu Li would do at this mont, but Lu Li just walked up the steps to the entrance where he closed the stone door, and then returned to the basent.
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