There's a war raging under the earth. Humanity is losing.  Final
Channel: Scary Stories
Date: 2022-11-27

There's a war raging under the earth. Humanity is losing. (Final)

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/DrunkenWrites/comments/z1yz74/theres_a_war_raging_under_the_earth_humanity_is/)

[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/z334q8/theres_a_war_raging_under_the_earth_humanity_is/)

[Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/z3wzlc/theres_a_war_raging_under_the_earth_humanity_is/)


 We were silent for a while, unsure what to say, how to react.

*It’s beautiful.*

Finally, Rodriguez sighed in acceptance, his head slumping.

"Nothing more we can do for them. Come on. Don't want to keep them waiting down there."

Shouldering our rifles, we headed further downward. The corridors grew larger, as wide as the main street of some ancient metropolis. The floor became a paved road, hexagonal bricks inlaid into the stone itself, forming baffling geometrical patterns. Many side tunnels led away into the dark, but we kept to the main road, heading downwards, always downwards.

Rodriguez' spectrometer began beeping incessantly, and we caught glimpses of the things from below. Every side chamber and tunnel held one, brief glimpses of smiles like murderers' knives and shapes like shattered glass. We didn’t flee this time, though.

They weren't hunting us anymore.

They were welcoming us in.

And finally, we reached it. 

The bottom.

The Pit.

The temple.

I look up as I write these words, locking eyes with Rodriguez. He doesn't say a word, but smiles reassuringly once more. Though the reason for his mirth eludes me, it gives me the will to continue.

We entered a massive cavern, its walls soaring up around us, its  roof so high it was hidden in blackness. No more side tunnels, no more of the endless descent. This was it: the bottom of the pit, the heart of whatever was happening within the earth. It all came from here.

Rodriguez cursed softly under his breath as he saw what waited for us. I gasped, unable to stop myself.

The cavern was dominated by a gigantic temple, carved from the cold rock itself. Soaring minarets, half-seen in the dim torchlight, towered above us. Shadowed windows loomed, hungry and ominous. Archways and vaulted roofs spanned the blackness.

It wasn't the scale of the temple that gave us pause, though, nor the half-seen multitudes of things from below, pale shadows promising murder, held back by some unknowable command.

It was how unmistakably *inhuman* the temple was.

Every stone was without blemish, every archway and vaulted ceiling flawless, and yet, it was hideous. 

It was *too* perfect. It was built in no style that a human mind could've ever envisioned, and that terrified us. Every piece of stone within its ancient bulk was cut with geometric precision that should've been unachievable, as if the very stones were laughing at the laws of nature. It had beauty, but only so that it could torture it and bend it into shapes it should've never taken.

"This place is old," whispered Rodriguez. "Way too old."

"Older than light," I answered, unsure where the words came from.

My friend gave me a sidelong glance and swallowed loudly, then continued, his words coming out in a breathless whisper.

"Let's... Let's keep moving. They're watching us."

Looking down, I saw that the front of the temple was taken up by a massive gateway, the arch covered in symbols and reliefs I shudder to remember. 

The gate. It was wide open.

I couldn't see what waited within. The darkness was too deep, too absolute, but there was something just behind it. A suggestion of movement, a hint of some great, shadowed form. That was all we saw.

Something was waiting for us, had been waiting since the beginning of mankind, or the Earth, or maybe the beginning of time itself.

Older than light.

All around us, the things from below bowed. Murder made subservient. Darkness kneeling before an older darkness. Violence and shadow and fear, bowing to something even more ancient, more profound, than those very concepts.

The first truth.

We stopped. Our journey to this depth had been to see precisely this, but at the very brink of the door, we stopped.

A sound from behind made us turn. There was movement in the main tunnel we'd come from, the sound of padding footsteps. Rodriguez raised his rifle.

The darkness shifted, and a lone figure emerged. It was dressed in the tattered remains of a uniform, a pistol strapped to its waist. Even bloodied and injured, it looked almost familiar, almost like...

"Anderson?" Rodriguez breathed.

Our former comrade smiled in the half light, the rictus grin sending a chill crawling down my spine. It was not a pleasant smile - the same kind Crowley had given us as he ran through the tunnels, dragging his helpless prey behind him.

"Hello, Rodriguez," Anderson said.

Rodriguez took a step closer. He didn't lower his rifle.

"Are you alright?"

Anderson laughed, a high, manic sound.

"Better than alright. I've seen it, Rodriguez. *I've seen it.*"

"Seen what?"

"The truth. The old trut