He'd only gotten a few steps when Jason called out to him, still lingering on the corner where the four paths merged. "What?" he yelled back, implicitly demanding an explanation before stopping or fetching his lazy friend.
"C'mere!" Jason responded, yelling louder at Kyle's departing figure. "I think I saw something!"
Yeah, like me kicking your ass. Kyle sighed and backtracked, shooting Jason a glare that said, this better be good, chum.
"See those things over there?" Jason asked, pointing down a surprisingly pristine tunnel to the left of the bridge. Shadows lurched and shifted in a rolling mass, not quite exposed to the flashlight he sliced through the darkness.
"Kinda." Kyle squinted where Jason was pointing. "What are they?"
"They look shiny, like metal. This time it's in the hallway and the walls... maybe it's that ladder we wanted!" He sounded excited.
Kyle was doubtful. If his imagination wasn't a filthy liar, he would have sworn some of those shiny things shifted to avoid the light. "Uh, we should get going. I think I saw something move, and I'd rather not–"
"Move?! Like what?"
"Hell if I know!" Kyle barked, unnerved upon noticing a small throng of shapes in the distance. "But there's a lot of 'em, they're coming this way, and we're in the God Damned sewers. You stay here and get autographs, I'm getting the hell out of here," he quipped, already moving toward the path he'd chosen earlier.
"But what about the..." Jason stopped short and backed away from the approaching creatures. "Man... some of those things have teeth. I shouldn't be able to see that from here!" Calm down Mack, they just want a nice sloppy kiss. Jason shuddered and glanced worriedly at Kyle.
As if sensing the pair's panic, the distant sewer tunnel began to boil with activity, and the pursuit began. The shuffling mountain of teeth and eyes was still too distant to discern specific shapes, but something primal inside Jason told him he didn't want to see, that even a fleeting glimpse would drive him utterly mad. Forget it. Get the fuck out, Mack. Those things aren't kittens.
Ultimeately unglued, Jason bolted, running so blindly after Kyle that he collided roughly into his friend's back, startling the other boy into dropping his flashlight into the grimy water.
"Fuck me gently with a rusty chainsaw..." Kyle groaned, adopting one of his father's more colorful laments, peering into the filthy stew as the light dimmed and vanished.
Jason had quickly recovered from the crash, twisting around Kyle in a haphazard spin, resuming his momentum with nary a backward glance. Within seconds, he'd already trudged several yards ahead of Kyle, who shrugged and followed Jason's frantic splashing. The walking ledge had apparently tapered away somewhere ahead, sending Jason into the shallow murk, undaunted by the minor inconvenience of watery shoes—the things sounded closer than before, and nothing as innocuous as rats were so persistent.
As Kyle ran, an echoing titter became audible and slowly grew louder behind him—from the left, then the right, even ahead—the hissing cackles came from everywhere, encouraged by the tight confines and exaggerated acoustics. He cursed and sloshed through the storm-water himself, faster, fearing it was futile, but too driven and newly terrified to care. Was that what spooked Jason so badly? The Sound? Definitely no autographs, he decided.
Kyle caught up with Jason by slamming into his back. Scampering aimlessly into a dark corridor notwithstanding, Kyle was confused at Jason's sudden halt. He'd already opened his mouth to ask why his friend stopped running—then he saw.
The tunnel began to emit a deep crimson glow, and the walls peeled back from themselves, revealing a rough outline of chicken-wire and cracked stained tiles. Before their eyes, words and symbols written in blood seeped from every surface not composed of wire or metal. A raw grinding noise rolled high and low without regard for direction, industrial and infinitely perverse. Though a haunting light poured around them, the stark maleficence exuded a taint worse than the blackest twilight.
No! Dammit! It's like the fucking dream again! Gimme a break! Not exactly. Though only vaguely, Kyle remembered no symbols or writing in his previous foray into that sickening landscape of decay. But the memories washed over him, a flow of cold black pitch, undulating a sinister taste through his mind. Kyle's stomach sank in recognition; no, not the same, but doubtlessly spawned from the exact hellish dimension of twisted desolation as before. But the steel keening here was no swing-set. The screeching howls of agony writhing within the walls not yards away, but reaching for his unprotected face, missing by mere inches. Kyle felt like a walking smorgasbord.
Not to be ignored, and quickly gaining ground, the misshapen throng of mysterious creatures continued, undaunted by the irrational shift in scenery, unlikely to pause and consider the implications. Revealed in the light as they approached, both boys gazed upon that which none should bear witness. Even Kyle found himself incapable of coping with this new horror. Gripped in a palpable state of horror and shock, neither even retained the sense to scream.