Level Zero by Dan McDowell (books that read to you TXT) 📕

the past,” Chris said. “What’s fifty-something years got to do with me?”

“Fifty-four years! Trust me, I would know better than you!” The creep clicked the back of his teeth with his tongue. “Arrogance. Or, perhaps you’re just…”

“Just what?”

He slapped Chris on the back. “Brushing off a spree of deaths on a property is a slippery slope. Especially, if your business is going to specialize in telling stories that revolve around such — death, that is. Don’t you think?”

Chris’s stomach bottomed out. ”Deaths? What are you getting at? I didn’t even explain what my business was. What’s going on?”

“That’s for me to know and you to ponder. Maybe the title gave it away,” the weirdo remarked.

Fear crippled Chris’s mind.

Talking that way to elevate yourself makes so much sense. Doesn’t it? Who am I kidding? I’m humoring him.

The creep put his arm around Chris as they continued to walk. While moving through, Chris reviewed the various pipes that ran across the ceilings and the drips and trickles of the tunnel.

Stay cautious. Something’s not right.

“Sure… Okay,” Chris said. “What did you say your name was?”

“Just call me Joe. I was a bellhop at the hotel back before the Great Depression hit us full force.”

You don’t look too bad for being alive way back then. Then again, there’s no way you’d still be this young.

A gulp engulfed Chris’s throat.

“There’s more for you to see in here,” Joe said. “I know it’s dark, but your eyes will adjust.”

.     .     .     .     .

The pair visited for hours. Joe was a character full of stories, all the while keeping a mysterious allure. Most of which were more twisted than Chris ever wanted to hear or know about. Despite this, it was apparent that the gruesome details delighted Joe.

Joe’s voice echoed down the tunnel, “Yeah, so that’s when I put them in the furnace and admired their shrieks of terror. It was quite satisfying. The smell of searing flesh… the sounds of shrieking sinners… and the retribution for the worst kinds of people to walk this beautiful earth.”

I can’t take any more of this.

Chris felt himself gagging as he pondered upon the vivid and grotesque descriptions.

“Really? Joe, are you that proud of these situations? I like scary stories because they are fiction. I want nothing to do with them in reality.”

Joe popped a peanut in his mouth. He crunched its shell and spat it toward a neighboring fire pit that glowed. After a moment of silence, he hoisted the pewter cup full of unshelled legumes toward Chris.

Chris waved it away.

I don’t want anything from your filthy hands, he thought.

“You’ll never understand the world as I see it,” Joe said. “I’ve always seen it differently. I’m a seer. No. I don’t have visions flashing before my eyes like the privileged few that do. It’s just human behavior. Body language. Tone of voice. Hobbies. Interests. It’s called acute observation, better known as paying attention. Something very few of us do anymore. You could benefit from learning the art form if you apply yourself. Don’t expect any help from me, though. Heh-heh.”

Chris stopped the conversation. “Okay. I think I’ve heard enough today.”

“Why don’t I make you something to eat while you’re here?” Joe said. “You know… to make your trip worthwhile. Hell, it might even motivate you to come back and visit again. I get kind of lonely here.”

He stepped away to the opposite side of the tunnel, revealing an access door to a giant freezer stored behind the walls.

“It’s all linked to the bottom of your building,” Joe said.

My building… I like the sound of that. Finally, something that’s mine without the Reinhold family crest plastered all over it.

“Chris… Chris… Your mind must have been wandering…”

How did you know that?

“There are a few passages and connections in the basement level of the hotel leading into this place... into my place,” Joe said. “That is, if you know how to get through, and I’m the only one that knows that. As a matter of fact, this used to be the hotel’s overflow freezer. They relocated it back in the 50s, right before it went under. The best part of it… it’s still connected to your electricity lines, partner. You ever have quail before? It’s a bit of a delicacy here. I save only the best for my privileged guests!”

Chris remained upbeat, despite a growing fear and eagerness to leave the strange labyrinth. “Sure, why not?”

Joe brought over two of the frosted birds from the freezer, striking a match on the front of his teeth and lighting a nearby grill.

“Don’t worry. No wind in the tunnel to snuff it out.”

“Yeah, but what about the fumes? Couldn’t that hurt us?”

“Not a chance. Did you not see the fire lit over there? Same idea, genius,” Joe said, taking a whiff of the smoke from the match. “Ah, nice. We have two miles for it to dissipate. Besides, I’ve got it vented in strategic spots — you just have to trigger it to make the vents open.”

“And how do you do that?”

“Now, if I revealed all the secrets of this place to you now, wouldn’t that take away the fun for us? I’m not going to tell you… yet. I’ll give you a few projects, and then we’ll see if you’re up to standards. Then, I might tell you more. I’ll tell you this much, the tunnel is full of more fun, terror, and creepy than you could ever fathom. That’s all you need to know.”

“Okay then, fair enough. I might as well.” Chris clasped his hands together and sighed.

Joe dropped the quail onto the grill top. “The bird’s got to get nice and charred. You learn to eat different in here. More like God made us to, you know? None of that refined ‘big city’ eating in fancy restaurants. Just two guys having high-quality bird in an abandoned subway tunnel.”

“Subway tunnel? That’s what this was. I remember hearing about that in grade school. You got anything to drink?”

“Of course I do. The question for