They’d been in the vacant block for the last month, clearing and digging, filling the street with the inescapable racket of machinery. The hole started out as foundations for a basement and it was pretty deep, even before they broke through the concrete ceiling of the tunnel. I couldn’t get a good look at it from my bedroom window, but it looked like it might have had stairs. I didn’t like the idea of a having a dirty great hole right next to my house, I’ve seen sinkholes and they’re serious business. I refused to give the tradesmen my torch when they wandered over claiming they’d heard someone down there.
How was I supposed to know they’d go down anyway? It sure as hell wasn’t my fault they didn’t come back up again. The two boys across the street went down next. I watched out my window as they stood on the lip of that gaping maw and shone their torches down. The oldest spoke in a furtive whisper; “Do you hear it?” His brother nodded as they began their eager descent. Since then, I’ve watched fifteen people climb down into that pit. None have come back up. At first I thought maybe they’d found another exit, but that was before I heard it; the whispering. I haven't slept in days. I can hear them in the night; the tradesman from the first day, Greg from next door, those two little boys…
They’re begging me to come and look. They say have something to show me.
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