The “basement” turned out to be part of one of the abandoned mines that gave Iron Hill its name. Curiosity gave way to irritation, which in turn, gave way to fear.

“How much further, Jonas?”

“Just a little bit, just a little bit.”

His dim light danced ahead of me. I cursed and quickened my step. Without that light I could be lost in the dark down here forever. I wished I smoked so that I’d carry matches or a lighter.

Jonas’ footsteps stopped and I joined him on a ledge that led into a cyclopean cavern. Dots of floating luminescence gave light to something better left to darkness. Below us, spread some detestable mixture of fungus, living earth and black oil that bubbled and broke. The whole thing stunk of suphur and rotting meat, worse, it seemed to breathe.

“What in the devil is that?” I gasped.

Jonas replied with a fevered whisper. “Not the devil, but godhood… salvation.” He pitched forward falling into the thing with arms spread. Together they writhed in some kind of unholy communion.

“Join us.”