Cellar Dweller

Posted on Fri Jan 10th, 2025 @ 12:24 by Claire Cavendish & Rebecca McMillen

Chapter: Besieged
Location: The Undercroft, Avalon Institute
Timeline: Thursday, 4th of February, 1993
1719 words - 3.4 OF Standard Post Measure

The hours after tea were usually set aside for personal time. As such Winifred had been using them to get around the grounds without too much interference from the staff or students. Which is why on this particular night he found himself in the undercroft of the institute. "What are you hiding.." he muttered to himself as he stared at a crudely drawn map of the tunnels underneath the ancient castle. He turned around a couple of times before deciding he had been facing the correct direction after all and continued his trek down the damp corridor.

The worst parts of any underground tunnels were all present. Damp air, wet stone ground, dark tunnels, and rats. Why were there always rats? They scurried here, they scurried there, they squeaked and chittered, and while they were seemingly curious about the presence of someone from the world above, they weren't curious enough to get too close. Squeaks in the dark, the reflection of the light in their beady little eyes, then they chittered and made a swarm for it, moving like a mass away from the intruder and into the dark. Only their chittering and squeaking gave proof that they even still existed once they left the light. Squeaks. Squeaks. Then, a voice.

"What do you mean There's someone else here?" came a woman's voice. More squeaking. "Show me." and then the chittering began to get louder again.

Rounding the corner was the art teacher of the institute, Rebecca. A short little thing, mousey was certainly a word to describe her, she chose to confront this intruder to the depths at her full height, "Let me guess, you're lost?" she asked, with a air of concern. No one else was supposed to be down here...

Winifred spun to face the sound of a voice coming from elsewere in the undercroft. He contemplated rushing back topside, but that would only make things worse. Why would anybody be down here? "Ah, miss McMillen. I must admit I got turned around. What brings you down here?" He felt it was a good idea to put her on the defense.

"Practicing." she said simply. "Everyone else has 'Make it Snow' powers, or 'Run Fast' power, and they can practice out there in the open. Freeze the pond for skating, run to town and pick up fresh bread, roast marshmallows. But me?" she motioned around. "Rats. My power, my so called Gift, is rats. I talk to them, they talk to me." she left out the whole shrinking bit. It was handy, but sometimes it was a little embarrassing. "I'm supposed to practice, to widen my abilities, but I can't keep a rat in a cage because all I hear is them asking to be let out. I can't let them roam around because apparently they're dirty and filthy." one rat squeaked up in protest, "Yes yes, I know you're not."

"So, I don't get nearly as much opportunity to practice. So I have to come here." she motioned around the undercroft. "So, if you're lost, let me at least help you get back topside."

"I did actually come here with a reason. Perhaps you or your friends can point me in the right direction." Winifred wasn't a hundred percent sure this would be the most successful approach but he was running out of time and he did need a reason for coming down there. "My curiosity was piqued by some of the rumours floating about regarding the layout and facilities in the under-croft. We all know there's generators and the wine cellar, of course. But a lot of the square mileage is unaccounted for." His face got quite serious then, "and there's some heavy speculation surrounding the craft that was spotted around here during the Sentinel attack back in September."

Now the interesting part was that the emergency and return of this mysterious craft, and indeed the Sentinel attack, predated her arrival. So while Rebecca might have been the best person to find out, she was one of the worst people to ask. "Sorry, I was on a bus heading up this way back in September. Or was it a train?" while the words might have been sarcastic in any other tone, in this case she was quite serious. Though, the concept of a school inside a castle hiding a secret craft or anything of the sort was too wild for words. "Do you really think there's some kind of flying saucer under here?" she motioned all around. "Don't be daft. If there was some kind of UFO and little green men under the castle, I'd have heard about it."

It was suddenly apparent how many rats there were in this particular tunnel with Rebecca and this newcomer to the depths.

"Six generators, two wine cellars, plenty of basement space, maybe a dungeon, but a secret air force?" her thin tail whipped behind her in disbelief. As if there'd be something under here that she hadn't heard of yet. Why, if such a place did exist, it would have to exist behind pressured doors, tight seals, thick air filters... things that wouldn't be found in a castle. "I think you're out of your depth, sir. Which is to say, we should get you topside."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Winifred tried to encourage the art teacher, "I'm sure your friends will know if there's a place where they can't get into." He looked at the map again, "That way I think." he pointed after having settled on a direction.

"My sense of adventure? Ho ho ho, pull the other one. Alright, let's see where this map gets us." she leaned over to sneak a look at the map. "You've got it wrong, it's this way." and she'd motion to a different direction. Rather than directing him to someplace mysterious and interesting, though, she was planning on leading him topside. Strange professors with weird maps searching out hidden airports underneath majestic castles just was a little too far fetched for Becca.

Winifred turned the map around again to have the orientation match the direction she had pointed in. "Are you quite sure?" He looked around, all the walls and corners here looked the same. "Can you imagine living here in the middle ages? From the history I've been able to gather it was a sanctuary for individuals with special abilities as well." He followed Rebecca blindly as she led the way.

A few of Rebecca's fuzzy informants squeaked as the pair made their way, "Of course I'm sure. They're sure" she defended, "So it was a haven for us back then too, seems nothing changes. Except this time, I doubt the folks on the other side of the barricade want to burn me at the stake. I mean, I hope they aren't planning that."

"It must have been terrifying for us back then. I only found out about this place through the news and the telly. Back in the dark ages, I'd have lived my entire life alone and in the dark. At least today, we're all here together." she offered. "They would call us witches or hags or wizards back then, no doubt. Something to consider for next Halloween then." another big fuzz of a rat squeaked, "Oh, thank you. Says up on the left."

Did rats really know their right from their left?

"I think up in these parts they were more likely to call us Fae." Winifred had actually done some research on this matter. It was one of the reasons he had been attracted to Avalon. "And people often do underestimate the connectedness of the world in those times. Sure you couldn't instantly converse with people across the pond, but if this place was half as famous as it is today, it would've been known about even as far south as London." He had made an effort to speak RP, but even then it was possible to hear he was from down south as well. The London accent in his companion was easy enough to identify.

"And word of it would reach as far south as to reach the oversized ears of Rebecca, fae queen of mice." she spun around on her paws and gave a cute curtsey. "No thank you. As wild a time as it might have been back then, I wouldn't give up modern life for anything."

"But you make a good point, we don't really know how good things were back then because we can't imagine a world without phones or double-deckers." the longer Rebecca talked, the more dialled in her accent became. If she kept talking, Winifred would eventually be able to guess what street she was from.

Their undercroft adventure would soon bring them back to the upper access. The blonde turned towards the nearest member of her Recon Acquisition Team (she was so clever) and knelt down, "You said we were going somewhere interesting." squeak squeak squeak, "Well yes I know the kitchen is up there and that a very warm and interesting and..." squeak squeak, "No no, you did good. Thanks." and she turned to address Winifred, "Sorry about that, I guess interesting to a person and interesting to them is a lot different. I'll keep an eye out for any little green men next time I'm down here, though. C'mon, let's get out of here and get something to eat. Just let me get my shoes on, no peeking."

Unless Winifred really wanted to know what rat paws really looked like, she doubted he'd steal a glance as she slipped her socks and slippers back on, before motioning the ole 'After You' motion. No point giving this guy a free view.

The moment she said no peeking Winifred's eyes involuntarily looked downward. The darkness obscured any proper look he could've gotten as she quickly covered her feet. "I'm good, I think I'll retire to my room. Thank you for the help though. I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to find my way out before dawn." It seemed as if his upper lip became stiffer than it had been. Perhaps he'd have to come down there again with a compass and a flashlight. At a time when there wouldn't be nosy rodents around.