Day 7: Tunnels Below
We find a some concerning scientific readings, a prisoner, a secret passage, and one very unusual raven
Paranormal Dinner Club is a work of fiction told in dispatches from the Invisible Man’s brother as he explores a mysterious and deadly island. New to the project? You can find a Table of Contents here.
When we started I had readers suggest names for characters. Here we have a submission from Krista — the name “Richmond.” And it belongs to someone who will prove important as the story continues.
Day 7: The Tunnels
Much to report today.
We’ve received word that, indeed, our host is nearly here and should arrive by tomorrow morning at the latest.
I rose quite late today. (Yes, yes — preparations are done—stop questioning my work ethic.) I skipped breakfast and made do with a warm loaf of raisin bread and had cup of coffee on the balcony overlooking the gardens. While there, I found Melchior there fiddling with a series of telescopes and odd contraptions. He greeted me with a warm smile.
“There is a legend in your country of a man who slept for a hundred years young man,” Melchior said. “And I think you mean to test him and surpass him with such a late hour you have arisen today.”
His speech is strange. Simultaneously elevated and formal, yet with undeniable grammatical wrinkles that come from learning English as a second language. It has a charm all its own.
“What was his name?” Melchior asked. “Rip Van Wright? Van Warble? No, ah, Rip Van Wrinkle. Wrinkle is it not?”
I had not the heart to correct him and said he was quite right.
Curious at what he was doing, I inquired about his instruments. He explained that though an astronomer and astrologer by training he was also something of an amateur enthusiast in the area of weather.
“For years,” he explained, “After the discovery of this island and its mysterious properties people wondered how it was that in generations of ships crossing the Atlantic that it had not been discovered before. An island off the coast of Africa, surely in the path of hundreds of trading and exploration vessels. Was it simply the vastness of the ocean and chance? I suspected something else.”
He ushered me to a telescope he had set up pointed toward the coastline.
“You will, of course, have noticed immediately the particular weather pattern surrounding the island. It leaves this place covered in mist until about mid-day, with the mist then returning in the evening. It is speculated by the scientists here that this is why the island had not been found until now. To be sure it is peculiar. Yet it remains the least strange aspect of this place.”
He motioned down to a ball and a string that he moved slightly back and forth. “There. There.” Squinting and noting something in his leather journal, he explained, “There is a peculiar magnetic field here such that if one has a compass the field bends around the island. I have a very fine and sensitive instrument obtained from the Swiss. Even walking the grounds I have observed magnetic aberrations. The effect is such that if were you heading north at sea and following a compass you’d be directed around the island.”
He picked up another journal with lines and circles drawn in intricate patterns. “Here,” he said. “As I said, I am a student of the stars and most would navigate by them in the open ocean at night. But I made careful observations heading toward the island and now have made careful observations here and there is something wonderfully strange at work here.”
“I thought that huge bearded man on the ship confiscated all such observational charts,” I said looking over his work.
He chuckled softly and said,“Ah even our bearded friend had to sleep sometime. I’ve learned it’s quite a useful skill to slow your breathing, to give the appearance of sleep when you desire to. And if you’re able to move with the shadows below deck, then on the deck match your steps to the creaking of the ship…one could be near undetectable. But I’m sure I wouldn’t know anything about such things.” And he smiled.
If he weren’t so friendly, this dark skinned magi would seem nearly ominous.
“Quite right,” I said.
“So you see,” he continued, “The stars appear to shift around the island. Of course it is not the stars that shift but rather, our perception of them.”
“I don’t understand. How is that possible?”
“It is not possible. There is — perhaps the best I can describe it — a mist, a shimmer, a shift around the island. Once you are inside the shimmer the stars appear to shift further away from the island.”
“But no natural force could produce that,” I said. “That would mean that it’s almost as though the island wants to not be found.”
He chuckled and shook his head at me. “Wrong on both counts my friend. Firstly, when there is no natural explanation we are left with the unnatural explanation. What is not normal must be paranormal.”
He looked out at the mist still rising from the coast in the distance.
“And secondly, islands are not alive, but something here is. Something wants not to be found, I think.”
And with that he returned to his instruments and me to my breakfast.
Given that our host is arriving soon I decided to make one last attempt to access the mysterious area from the garden shed.
I succeeded.
Don’t act so surprised, brother. I can be resourceful when I need to be.
I reapparoached the shed, slipping through the porters tending the gardens and patrolling the grounds. Slipping in to the darkened shed just as one of the porters left, I found a slight crack running down the series of boxes stacked at the end of the shed. As I suspected, boxes were fake upon closer examination. So I felt around and managed to find a latch that released easily and a door swung open. There was a ladder leading down below — into a subterranean level.
One thing I’ve learned sneaking around laboratories and mansions — hesistation will kill you more surely than decisiveness. So I slid down the ladder as quietly as I could. At the bottom I found a long tunnel leading back in the direction of the Lodge. The tunnel was about 6 feet high, braced with wooden beams, and was stark but serviceable. It smelled vaguely of earth and chemicals. The tunnel quickly branched into three more tunnels. I could hear voices coming from the right, so I took the left tunnel as quickly and quietly as I could.
Your serum would have come in quite handy here but I was determined to leave all of it locked and hidden and safe in my room in case I was discovered. I’d have to trust to my natural skill here.
After following the right tunnel I discovered the first large room — a makeshift medical laboratory. Despite it being underground it was quite clean. The ceiling must have been 10 feet high here and it was the size of a small infirmary. There were hospital beds, metal cabinets on wheels, and various metal instruments laid out on them. Charts and graphs were hung on the walls — most of them anatomical breakdowns of various animals and the human body. Resisting the urge to stop I continued forward quickly trying to see as much as I could before I’d have to flee back upstairs.
I continued but what I found next was the last thing I expected.
Behind a large metal door I discovered a long hallway of cages. Inside each cage, from floor to ceiling was a different animal. On the top row, birds of various colors. In the middle row, small mammals like foxes or rabbits or groundhogs. And on the bottom were reptiles, snakes and lizards and turtles. At first I thought they must be taxidermy or stuffed, they were so silent and unmoving. Yet as I bent closer I saw them breathing and some moved very slowly. It seemed impossible. You’d find such a collection of animals squawking and screeching and yet…they simply sat and stared silently straight out of the cages. I even waved at them and they reacted but their reactions were so slow I believe they must have been dosed or drugged with something.
I confess I could have gathered more data for you there but I couldn’t stand the experience of being watched silently by dozens of eyes. I pressed on.
Then another intersection with tunnels and a large metal door. This one was locked, and I had no key. But I could see through the large glass window and what I saw in the next room was even stranger, if that were possible.
There appeared to be a series of cages in the middle of the room with more animals. But these were like none I’d ever seen. There was a snake that had reptile legs, looking almost like a centipede with its many feet tapping softly on the cage floor. In the next cage was one of the fox-like mammals but with furry wings like a bat’s that unfurled when it stretched. And beyond that were more grotesque and strange creatures it was hard for me to stare at for mre than a moment— a lizard with two heads and three mouths, a bird with eyes in the back of its head, a cat with fish scales for fur and two tails.
I shuddered and decided my time luck was nearly up and decided to go back the way I came.
Yet, when I approached to the tunnel leading to the ladder and the shed, I heard someone opening the secret passage from above. So I took the right passage and found a quiet place to wait and observe. It’s a storage room that seems it hasn’t been entered in quite some time. But from it I can hear porters bringing something down and it sounds like it will take quite a while.
Thankfully, I have my journal on me so that I can report back in case I’m caught. If these are my last words, well — goodbye.
Hello again.
I’m out and back in the Lodge now. I did not die, as you can likely guess.
Here’s what happened: After waiting for the voices and steps to fade, I turned back toward what I thought was the original entrance. But I’d lost my sense of direction underground and had taken a wrong turn. But in this new room I found what were not animal cages but human sized prison cells. There must have been about 6-8 of them in total with thick bars.
Realizing that if there were humans here I needed to get out before I was seen I crouched and tried to exit quickly.
I crept past someone asleep or passed out in one of them. They did not stir. I think they were alive. I hope they were, at least.
But when I crept by a second cell I found that I realized recognized the man there. It was none other than the man we rescued from the ocean. He was still in his shabby suit with its rips and tears and stains. His hair and beard were wild. He had a scar that ran down the back of his neck but apart from that he appeared unharmed.
He did not see me because in his hand was a piece of chalk and he was writing something on the wall behind him. I think it was a series of equations or calculations.
Taking a great risk, I said, “Hello?”
But he didn’t even turn around. Instead he spoke over his shoulder: “One moment I’m nearly done. I think I’ve nearly finished it.”
And he kept writing in chalk on the wall. He finished the equation, underlined it, and then turned back to me.
“There, it’s done for now…” But his eyes turned to surprise when he saw me, and he said, “Oh you’re new, aren’t you?”
“New?”
“Yes, new down here,” then he paused and his face came up to the bars to get a closer look at me, “No no no…you’re not one of them. No no. I’ve seen you before…where…where where…”
“I saw you come aboard the ship. They rescued you.”
“Rescued me??” and he laughed. “Captured me more like. I’d made it through the storms only to get picked up by the people I was avoiding and then brought back to the one place I sought to escape. A near mathematical impossibility. But there’s math for you. What is highly improbable is never impossible. Why are you here? Kidnapped?”
“No, I was invited. Well, my brother was and he sent me instead.”
“Invited? Oh no. Oh no. Listen very carefully — do not trust Dr. Moreau. I was his right hand. I thought we could make a new world. Only too late did I realize it meant the destruction of everything in the old. We are not meant to be here—Humanity.”
He stomped his foot on the ground below him. He picked up a handful of dirt.
“Do you see this? We are not meant to be here. You must get out. Sail away and never return.”
I wasn’t sure what to say next. But it struck me that he was truly a prisoner, so I asked, “Do you want me to…free you?”
“Free me? He’s already begun with me. My skin itches all the time now. It’s started. No no it’s too late for me. He’s getting close now. Very close. The ore, you know. He said he’d reverse the process if I helped him get to the ore. He’s smart but he’s no mathemetician. And I’ve nearly got it. That’s my only hope now.”
Just then I heard the voices coming down the corridor again.
“Quick,” he said. “Through that side door. Then the second right. It’ll take you to the intelligent ones. I helped him build all this. Hide there until they make their afternoon rounds and it should be safe to return.”
“Thank you, Mr….”
“Doctor.”
“Mr. Doctor?”
“No. I’m a doctor. Dr. Richmond. Or I once was.”
“Right. Of course. Sorry. Thank you, Dr. Richmond.”
I did as he instructed. I followed the tunnels and turns and then found myself in a room with several smaller doors. I crept inside one of them, leaving only a crack to see through to keep watch.
But I heard a rustling behind me and discovered, to my surprise, a raven looking back and me. It was a larger raven than I’d seen before. It’s black feathers the deep black of tar. It was perched on a small tree inside a large cage. It stared at me.
And when I say “stared” I don’t mean the way I bird does, with jittery movements and its eyes darting around. It stared the way a curious child stares at something — wide eyes and a curious expression. It squawked once. Almost in greeting.
I felt in my jacket pocket for the remains of my breakfast, thinking if I could feed it it might be quiet for the moments I needed. There was a half pastry, an apple, and a raisin cake. I presented them all to the raven and it flicked the raisin cake out of the cage in disgust but happily ate the pastry. It seemed to raise its head in delight and squawk a thank you to me.
“I prefer pastries myself as well.”
It nodded in agreement almost as if it understood.
“Can you be…quiet…for a few minutes?”
It nodded again. It had understood.
“Can you…understand me?”
It nodded again.
“Are you just nodding yes to everything I say so I’ll give you more pastry?”
It shook its head no. Then it nodded to my jacket. It wanted more pastry.
I barely registered how unusual it was before voices echoed quite close down the hallway. I’d left the door ajar. Stupid. They approached and I heard arguing between them.
The raven nodded to the door as if gesturing for me to go.
“Now?? Are you sure?”
It nodded again. So I bolted.
I’d just reached the end of the room when I heard the door behind me open. I thought I’d be caught for sure. But just then the raven began screeching and making a huge commotion. The two men behind immediately went to investigate and yelled at the bird to quiet down. It bought me just enough time to slip away.
From there I managed to get back to the original ladder without incident, slip out of the shed, and get back into the lodge. I looked none the worse for wear other than being dusty, sweaty, and shaking all over with fear. When I passed the porters they didn’t seem to notice any difference. I’m not sure what that says about me.
Yet, as I lay back on my bed, trying to recoer I could not shake the raven from my mind’s eye. It sounds impossible but when I looked into its eyes they seemed nearly … human.
Thanks for reading! This story is being shaped by you, the readers. Let me know:
What do you wonder about the island?
What is the deal with that raven?
Will we see Dr. Richmond again?
Thanks again to Krista for the name suggestion! Suggest a name below and I’ll see if I can work it into the story.