Necrocide Read Online Free Page A

sunshine streamed in, occasionally compromised by the movement of his comrades as they jostled with each other to allow another metre of rope to be fed through their hands. Hans was disoriented as looking down into the void offered no frame of reference for his movement and as the bright white opening reduced in size, he realised only then how deep this cavern was. With his plainly ineffective torch in his mouth, he could still not make out the detail of his surroundings although his senses detected warmth within. It was not hot, just about enough temperature to allow removal of his thick padded outer clothes. There was also a smell, an unusual odour that Hans could not place. It did not smell as expected like the internals of a submarine which was the only relatively similar experience he had with which to make assumptions; it was a clinical smell, not fresh but not old either. Considering this atmosphere had been stagnating for possibly hundreds or thousands of years if Cortese was correct, the air was quite breathable.
    Suddenly Hans's legs buckled as he felt a hard surface beneath his feet. Suppressing the urge to call up to his comrades which were merely shadows blotting out the sun from high above, he staggered to be upright and free standing.
    “There is no more rope, are you alright?” A voice echoed down from the now tiny orifice.
    “Yes, I am at the bottom.” Hans called back up with caution. He felt at odds with himself raising his voice. He did not dare taking anything for granted in this place which remained blacker than the sky on a cloudy night.
    Plucking the torch from his mouth he waved it around in vain as for some reason, the light that it emitted seemed to travel less of a distance than expected, almost as if met some kind of resistance in the atmosphere. Stooping low, he shone the light at his feet to get an impression of the surface he was stood upon. At close range, the bulb gave off enough illumination to see that he stood upon a smooth flat floor that did not seem to reflect light well. Taking his glove off, he ran his fingers over the surface and concluded that it was cold to the touch, much like metal but seemed to have a very complex and regular micro-pattern to it. Hans imagined it to be akin to snake skin yet rigid. It was certainly not a naturally occurring material that he had encountered.
    His eyes beginning to adjust a little to the gloom, he resisted looking back up to the white and bright light of the hatch lest his eyes lose their sensitivity.
    “I am safe; I will take a more detailed look around. Very little to report at present.” Hans called out, again with caution. When entering the bear's cave, you do not go waving your arms about, shouting.
    “I have sent Baumgartner to fetch more rope and the large torches. Do not take any risks, Colonel.” An Italian voice called out in reply.
    “No, no.” Hans muttered under his breath as he stumbled around with his arms outstretched, careful not to walk into anything untoward.
    Just then, Hans began to get the distinct impression that something significant was happening. An eerie feeling that his presence in this place had been detected. It was an instinctive thing and Hans' already tachycardic heart rate became even more furiously rapid. A soft glow seemed to begin emanating from the floor about his feet and for the first time, Hans was afforded enough light to gain a little orientation in this most confounding of places.
    Hans stepped forward a couple of paces and as his foot fall seemed to be registered on the 'living metal' surface, so came the light, almost as if in response to the pressure with which he exerted on the floor. Hans tapped his foot gently upon the surface and the movement brought about subsequent explosions of silent light which decayed almost as quickly as they appeared. The surface was hard yet it responded as if it were a liquid, the pressure of his footfall causing ripples of light. It was a beautiful, mesmerising