Red Paint

Well, I guess my Valentine's Day is ruined this year. I can’t take my girlfriend on a date if I’m stuck in the hospital with second-degree burns. I’m glad she’s here with me though, I guess we could call it a date when it’s all said and done. A sad date, but a date, nonetheless. I suppose I need to elaborate on why I’m even typing this on my phone while my back is quite literally on fire.

As I’ve said, it’s Valentine's Day, and I wanted to draw something nice for my lady. She likes my drawing, so I thought, why not? To do that, I went for an inspiration hunt. You know where you go and look for something inspiring, sighting seeing with a purpose. So, we have this old traffic tunnel that had fallen out of use a while ago in the town where all the graffiti people seem to flock to. There’s new art there about every other week, and the tunnel seems to run forever. I’ve never gone too deep inside to know, but I guess it’s probably connected to some other underground passageways.

So, I decided I’d go there yesterday, after work; when it would've gotten kind of dark. I’ve been there so many times I know the opening portion about as well as I know the palm of my hand. So, I just planned to rely on my phone flashlight. No provisions were needed. In my head, it was going be a 30-minute trip to the tunnel and back. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I took a shower, had dinner, and then headed out to the tunnel. By this point it was pretty dark. Especially since winter is still in full force here, gotta love that. Anyway, I got to the tunnel, turned on my flashlight and started walking along the concrete floor of the tunnel. Most of the art along the walls was pretty old, I’ve seen it what must’ve been a hundred times by now. I looked around to perhaps spot some new editions, but there were none. That is until I looked up, someone sprayed the ceiling too; which was new and cool, but not what I was looking for. I just kept on walking along the length of the tunnel, looking around for something unique, something that might inspire me.

For the longest time, I couldn’t find anything not worthy. It was mostly the usual graffiti art. I’m not going to say these artists are bad, on the contrary; compared to those guys, I’m the newbie.

So yeah, I’ve been wondering around for a while until I came across something actually unique. A really complex design sprayed with red paint. I could feel the fresh smell still emanating from the design. I think it was still somewhat fresh. I examined it for a good few moments. The lines and circles seemed to interconnect beautifully into a puzzle-like shape with multiple layers interwoven into one another, forming a complex image reminiscent of ancient Aztec artwork. Not to mention the skull looking thing in the middle of it all. This, this was inspiring. Truly. I was going to turn back home and come up with some flowery design similar to this one, but then I saw another one of these artworks. Similar yet different, incredibly complex as well. I stood there for a moment, examining the newly discovered piece of art. It was incredible.

Curiosity got the better of me when I saw a third one of these Aztec-inspired designs, yet again, with a fresh-smelling flavor of red paint to it.

I kept walking, going ever deeper into the pit that is that tunnel.

I must’ve lost track of time, and pretty much everything else with how focused I was on these crimson designs. There were dozens of them, hell, maybe even hundreds and they seemed to go on forever.

The deeper I went, the less intricate the designs became. From complex puzzles and creature designs, they’ve turned into crude and meaningless shapes and lines scribbled almost in frustration all over the walls and the ceiling of the tunnel.

The deeper I walked in, the stronger the scent of fresh paint and rotten eggs became, along with an ever-increasing frequency of sloshing sounds. I ignored it. I ignored pretty much everything that wasn’t the red inklings etched onto the walls of the tunnel. That is, until the smell of spoiled eggs and paint became too thick to ignore.

Once I felt as if the odor felt as if it had gained a form and started punching me in the face, I was at a crossroads that led to unfamiliar pathways in the underground structure. The sloshing sounds flooded my eardrums.

“Artist must still be here,” I thought to myself. In my head I was ready to tell the dude that his paint must’ve gone spoiled. Waving my phone around to the pathway on my left, I almost made myself spew an artwork of gastric acid.

In front of me, there were a bunch of mangled bodies.

Panic took hold of me in about an instant. I couldn’t smell the bloody rot anymore, I even couldn’t hear the sloshing. I couldn’t do anything other than stare at the pile of corpses in front of me and scream at myself internally. I was pretty much frozen for a few moments, my only movement being my shaking hands. I just stood there trying to process the whole ordeal; there was one person whose body was half dissolved in a puddle, some sort of red paint.

It was still fuming!

Another person that was pierced by fucking spikes!

Red, massive, concrete-like spikes.

Another one had a red block where his head should’ve been.

I was unwillingly inspecting every detail of these bodies, these corpses… Until something dropped on my head. A liquid drop. I shifted my gaze upward.

I wish I never did…

Above me, hung a person impaled through the chest with a red sort of hook thing.

I’m not sure seeing this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I felt a flood of adrenaline pumping through my system and was about to dart it out of there. Accidentally stumbling backward and dropping my phone slowed my exit.

I crouched to pick up my phone and, as I rose up, I heard a \*slosh\*

Something landed on my back, something sticky and wet… Heavy…

I turned around and there he… It… That was, Holyyy fuuuuck…

A gelatinous figure stood over me. It was covered in some red sticky substance head to toe, there was no face to speak off, just this webbed mouth thing, I guess. It was long and lanky, too disproportionate to be a human. It’s arm, thing, was pressed to my back.

My mind raced, but I had no time to think. It was a do or die moment, probably literally.

I bolted.

As my body moved, the arm thing, it just felt to the ground producing another sloshing sound.

The thing howled. It wasn’t in pain. It was \*pissed\*.

I ran.

It didn’t follow.

I know it didn’t follow me because instead; it inhaled loudly, producing disgusting whistling sounds.

I looked back and saw that thing with its body cocked back gurgling air and I decided against stalling, I just ran as fast as I could.

A second later something flew past me and hit the wall ahead of me.

It spat at me!

I looked back again like an idiot, and I saw that thing’s uhh arms... Appendages… I don’t know, long projectile things protruding from its sides, these were running along the walls towards me.

I pressed on my internal gas pedal as quickly as I could; running until I was out of the tunnel until my lungs felt like they were filled with shards of glass. My legs were hurting, and my heart was pounding in my head like it was going to blow up. A violent cry increasing in volume coming from within the tunnels cut my premature thoughts of safety short.

I immediately ran again, didn’t stop until I got home.

Only then I noticed my shoulder and back were burning.

The touch of this paint-ink man burned me. This Red Killer Demon thing it had a corrosive touch… I got myself to the hospital shortly after and I’ve been here since yesterday evening.

Didn’t bother telling my girlfriend about the red monster thing, I just told her something collapse in the tunnels, hitting me while I was looking for inspiration to draw something for her. She found the gesture lovely but still smacked me for being reckless, as if I wasn’t in enough pain.

Heck, the pain isn’t even the worst part, that would be the smell of fresh paint that follows me everywhere.