Hunter Kirkwood

The sewers. Where do I start? After my experience there… no, it’s just too horrible to talk about. Why does everybody keep asking? Well, I guess I could give you just a little definition. Just a little taste of the unamely horror that they call the sewers. 

Well, here you go:

The sewers are a terrible place. First you have a thirty two metre drop (yes, I measured), which will almost certainly break some bone in your body. Then when you finally get used to the searing agony that inhabits your body, and you can finally see through the pain, you realise that one, you’re not alone, two, you’re in such dreadful dark that you can feel the darkness seeping into you, and three (I’m not done yet) there’s no visible way out. 

You then spend years, crawling through the dark, bitter tunnels, desperately trying to survive as you encounter deadly beast after deadly beast. You do not want to know some of the creatures down there. And those evil men, that have been banished down there and somehow survived, just give me shivers just thinking about them. You want a description? Really? Fine. They are called Malvada. Flesh hanging off their body, screams echoing from them. Wild, evil, destroyed minds that know nothing but death and pain. Body parts that have been fully removed. Yet somehow they survive, held together only by hatred, of other people, of themselves, of the harsh, unforgiving world. And then that one Malvada. No, too evil to talk about, too close to my experience. I can’t tell you any more. I am sorry. Till next time.

Signed

Petula Percival