"Why do you have so many reports?" Missy asked Taylor, eyeing skeptically the stack of binders Taylor was carrying."
Extra quotation mark here.
"--of course, if I can find a few abandoned ones, especially strategically located about the bay, it shouldn't be difficult to begin repurposing them as off-season accumulation points, such a shame to let so many useful insects just die when they could be preserved for---"
A crowbar presses, shifts, combined with a grunt of exertion, and a lock snaps, door slamming open, the sound echoing loudly within the cavernous interior, compared to the relatively minor shriek of metal outside.
"-lling you, man, they're a gold mine. Like, the government
has to keep them stockpiled with food, 'n water, and shit like that. But they're doing something different now. All those villains dying. The news about that last Endbringer fight, pretty soon, they won't even
need these places anymore."
Footballs echo loudly in the antechamber as two pairs of boots make their way into the complex, following dusty signs towards storage. A second, less confident voice pipes up. "I dunno, man, what if there's, like, a hurricane or something. And do we really have to do this on Christmas? It's freezing!"
Another door opens, and they descend deeper. "Like any numbnuts cop wants to look into one of these places, when they could stay in their nice warm car. Besides, we yank a few computers, some copper wiring, we're in, we're out, easy peasy. 'Sides, that's what makes it perfect, people don't want to think about depressing stuff like what these shelters are fo-
pffhtpt! What the hell?!"
The door opens, and flashlights pan into fog, which is surprising, because they're indoors, and a story or two underground at this point. They squint, focusing, and realize it's some manner of webbing. The first voice, leading the way through the door with his shoulder, had walked right into it, and was now busy working to pull himself free.
"What the hell, man, what the hell!" Flashlight beams dance wildly as they can vaguely make out indistinct masses of chitin stirring within the space, the webs diffusing and scattering the light to make the inhumanly dense concentrations of insects into something truly monstrous.
"Shit man, what is it, what is
that thing?!"
Buzzing, echoing from a million, million sets of wings, combines with the medley of chirping, whistling, and screeches of a dozen other insects species into a spine chilling dirge of madness. One set of footsteps flee back the way they came, leaving their companion struggling, half free of the thicker of webs, designed to keep any insects from passing through the doorway if it were to be opened accidentally, now partway torn.
"Don't leave me, don't leave me, man!"
Screams echo up the stairwell, and the man flees into the night, breath misting in the air, running until he no longer can, until he finds the car, set out of sight to make off with their haul, and hastily hotwires it, the keys with his trapped companion, speeding off into the night. He doesn't go home, he doesn't stop until he runs out of gas, a state and a half away.
"Hey, Taylor...?"
"Yeah, Vicky?"
"Someone's posting these bananas rumors about aliens or mutants in the Endbringer Shelters, wanna go check it out with me?"
"Oh, uhm, about that..."
