A Dungeon Below

I found the spot on the map Erika had given me.

A metal bench, just like those in a city park, rested in a cozy, secluded grove of trees. I sat on one end of the bench and tried hard not to look nervous. My pile of junk food spilled out of the bag onto the ground, unnoticed, as I heard footsteps approach, swishing through the newly mown grass.

It was Erika. I managed not to heave a sigh of relief, but couldn’t avoid giving her a huge smile. “Hi, Tok -- I mean, uh, Erika.”

“Hi, Keisuke. She patted the bench seat. “May I sit down here?”

“Yes, please. Thank you for --” I blurted out before stopping myself. I was the luckiest guy in the academy, but didn’t want to sound like I was clingy or desperate. “Uh, I mean, I’m glad you could make it.”

“No, thank you, Keisuke. It was rather rude of me to impose myself on you for lunch, it’s just, well, I only know one other person here besides you. And you seemed to be rather kind.” She eased onto the bench, sweeping her long hair one way and pressing her knees and feet together like they teach in the girl’s etiquette classes.

She glanced at the bag at my side. “Oh, Keisuke, your lunch -- it’s fallen onto the ground.”

“Huh? Oh!” Quickly, I dropped to my knees and started scooping my “lunch” back into the bag. A can of energy drink rolled away from me, under the bench.

Under Erika.

She already had her bento out and balanced on her lap. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to kneel down in the dirt and crawl under the bench.

“Um, excuse me, Erika. I need to grab that can, there, the one…under… your, um--”

“Oh sure, Keisuke, please go ahead.” Other than popping the top off her bento, she didn’t move a millimeter. Her attention seemed to be on her lunch. Was she being dense on purpose?

“Uh, okay.” I reached for the can of Bellowing Kaiju and tried not to look at her legs, clad in dark nylons that climbed above her knees. Close enough to touch.

“Is something wrong?” she asked suddenly. I jumped and hit the back of my head on the steel underside of the bench.

“Your face looks a little red,” she continued. The tone of her voice had changed, from cheerful and friendly to mischievous and teasing. I looked up at her. To my dismay, she was giggling.

“Keisuke, you’re on your hands and knees -- it looks like you’re about to beg me for forgiveness. Whatever you’ve done, it’s okay, I forgive you.”

Red-faced, I snatched the energy drink and sat back on the bench. I was trying to figure out how to restore my lost dignity when, all of a sudden, she laid her hand on mine. I froze.

“Keisuke, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you. I think it’s me that needs to beg for your forgiveness.” She looked away from me but didn’t move her hand. In a tiny voice I could barely hear, she added, “For more than a few things.”

“What? What do you mean?” She didn’t answer me but, needless to say, I didn’t move my hand away either. “Erika, please, there’s nothing to forgive. I just got a little nervous --” Being so close to a girl as beautiful as you, I thought.

We could have gone back to eating lunch, but something in the air had changed. Erika had gone from cheerful to sorrowful in less than a minute.

We sat there for several minutes, listening to the light breeze blowing through the trees and the distant traffic.

I felt confused. Erika was definitely my type of girl -- I mean, she was a knockout with a sweet personality, for starters -- but she gave off this vibe, as if she’d known me for years.

Finally, she took her hand off mine and gave a small, self-conscious laugh. Once again, she’d become the cheerful high-school girl from earlier. A sense of relief flooded through me.

Placing the bento on the bench, she stood and leaned close to me.

“Keisuke, there’s something here I want to show you. Can you come with me for a minute?” She saw the look on my face and held up her hands. “No, no, it’s nothing bad, I promise. I think you’ll find it interesting, though.”

Erika led me down a path between the trees that took us further away from campus. I followed behind her, but we didn’t travel very far.

The path ended at the door of an old, unused maintenance shed. I’d seen dozens like it: tall weeds pushing up around the sides, cracked concrete steps leading up to a door covered in peeling, white paint which matched the walls covered in peeling, white paint; a window to the right of the door, so filthy with years of grime it might as well have been painted over. Rusty burglar bars over the window completed the picture.

Erika walked up the steps and pulled a short, stubby key out of her pocket. The door had a padlock holding it shut that was probably older than my uncle. She struggled briefly with it, then turned to me. “It’s stuck. Can you get it open?”

“No problem,” I said. For once, I was brimming over with confidence. I examined the padlock closely. “Wow, a KMC! These things date back almost a century.”

Erika’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re familiar with this kind of lock?”

I caught myself before I gave away a darker side of my past. “Uh, yeah, my uncle has one just like this. See the little metal tab covering the keyhole?”

When she leaned over my shoulder her hair touched my cheek, I smelled her perfume, and forgot all about little metal tabs in rusty old padlocks.

“So, how does the key go in?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, the key.” With some difficulty, I pushed the tab up with my thumb, sliding it into the housing of the padlock and revealing an opening. I inserted the key and gave it a twist. The shackle of the lock, a sinister-looking thing like a giant fish hook, snapped open.

I presented the opened lock to Erika, who beamed at me like I’d just solved world hunger. “Keisuke, you’re incredible!”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Ah, it was really nothing,” I said with as much modesty as I could manage. "Watch out for that shackle, though. It's sharp."

“Understood,” she said. She hung the padlock back on the hasp and surveyed the door’s sad state of decay. “But I wonder if the door will open.”

The door knob was one of those slick, polished globes that looked like amber, but I was able to get enough of a grip to give it a good turn. The knob turned easily enough, but the door itself remained stuck, even though I rammed my shoulder against it several times.

“Again, no problem,” I announced. I’d spotted a small pile of wooden chips half-buried under a bush. Someone had been chopping wood here long ago. I knelt down and rummaged through the chips until I found one shaped more-or-less like a wedge.

I jammed the wedge in the crack between the door and jamb, then banged on it with a handy rock. Finally, the door popped open, dropping flakes of dried white paint onto the dusty floor. I caught a whiff of rust and old dust.

“You never cease to amaze, Keisuke,” Erika said. She laid an appreciative hand on my shoulder and stepped through the doorway.

Since Erika had the key, I figured she had some connection to the old shack, whatever it might be. I wasn’t particularly bothered by the fact I was breaking-and-entering, and on school time as well. But I was eaten up with curiosity.

“What did you want me to see?” I asked as I followed her in. “I doubt there’s any electricity in here, much less lights.” I stumbled over what looked like a broken push mower, then remembered my cell phone. I pulled it out and turned on the light.

“It’s right here in the corner,” my guide said. We picked our way around old lawn maintenance equipment covered by rotting canvas tarps. Unidentifiable tools hung on the rafters. I aimed my light at them.

“What are those, ancient torture implements?” I joked. I heard Erika gasp, and she clutched my wrist. Not that I minded, but I hadn’t meant to frighten her. “Sorry,” I said apologetically.

She looked up and laughed, although it was a shaky kind of laugh. “Oh, those. They’re just hoes and other tools used for planting and harvesting crops. Back when they did that by hand.” She rattled off the names of several of them, pointing each out in turn.

Now it was my turn to be impressed. “How do you know so much about old farming tools?”

“I wonder,” she said in a teasing tone of voice. She stepped over a broken student desk that had collapsed from age. “Here. This is what I wanted to show you.” She rolled back a piece of old carpeting.

There, in a far corner of an old, disused shed, was a hidden trap door. It was old but solid, with a beefy, built-in locking mechanism.

Now I was really curious. “What’s down there, Erika? Do you know?”

She shook her head, her long blonde hair swaying gently. “I’ve only heard rumors. I wanted to at least make sure this much of the story was true.” She tapped the door with her shoe, then turned to look at me. “It’s locked, of course.”

“Yeah.” I knelt down to get a closer look, then snapped a couple of close-up images with my phone. “So, what did the rumors say?”

“The first rumor I think we can disregard. It’s said there’s a monster that lives underneath the school.” She shrugged dismissively. “But I also heard something else really interesting.”

Even in the dim light it was easy to tell she was just as fascinated as I was, maybe even more so. “Keisuke, there is supposed to be a hidden tunnel system under the academy, dating back to before the war, maybe even before the Edo period! There’s no telling what’s hidden there.”

She closed her hand around my arm. Excitement shone on her face. “And I want you to help me find it.”

It was then that we heard footsteps from outside of the shed. They were headed toward the door.

Erika gasped and looked at me, her eyes wide with fright. “What happens if they find us in here?”

“We might get expelled for breaking and entering.” I looked longingly at the keyhole in the trap door’s lock. “Do you have a key for this?”

“No. What do we do?”

The footsteps were almost at the door. “We have to hide. Here.” I lifted the cover of a tarp. Erika wrinkled her nose at the scent of gasoline, old grass, and mildewed canvas. “Come on!”

“Wait!” She quickly rolled the carpeting back over the trap door, then dove under the tarp I was holding up. I crouched down next to her and pulled our cover over us. I felt a little like a kid again, playing hide-and-seek.

I heard a grinding noise as the intruder pushed against the door, opening it wide. Light flooded into the room.

Erika clutched my arm.

Just then, a male voice called out, “Is there anyone in here?” I peeked through one of the rips in the fabric and saw it was one of the groundskeepers. He was peering around as if he was afraid a ghost might jump out at him, and looked more frightened than Erika or me.

I held my breath. Erika’s grip on my arm grew tighter. For several seconds, nothing happened.

The caretaker didn’t stick around too long. He backed out of the shed, then slammed the door.

There was a metallic clicking noise, then the sound of footsteps trudging away from the door. I let out a deep breath, but Erika continued to hold on to my arm.

“Keisuke! I left the padlock on the door!”

“What? You don’t think --” I tossed the tarp aside and made my way to the door as fast as possible. I turned the knob and pulled as hard as I could. It was no use.

The door had been padlocked shut.