Into the Sewers

Sewers - Sheridan, Wyoming

With a sense of trepidation, Finlay nodded, the gravity of their predicament weighing on him. He descended the metal rungs, his female form making the descent feel strangely different from what he was accustomed to. It was strange being smaller, each foot placement felt like it should have reached further than it actually did. Each step was a careful maneuver, and he had to adjust to the newfound agility and balance that Lydia’s form provided.

The environment around him transformed as he ventured deeper into the sewer. The concrete walls closed in around him, and the air grew damp and musty. The only sounds were the echoes of dripping water and the faint rumble of the city above. The only illumination came from the open manhole lid above and it made him wonder how dark it would get when it was closed.

Finlay reached the ground below, his feet making contact with the slippery surface. When she was stable, she tied the pants around her waist like a belt and put the shoes back on; tying them extra tight. He glanced back up at Lydia, waiting for her to make her descent into the dark, underground world. The uncertainty of their situation weighed heavily on him as he prepared for the next phase of their escape.

She called up, “Careful of the third rung from bottom. It is broken.” She sounded exactly like Lydia.