The Clog

“Get rid of it.”
The laboratory fell silent. The flat, even lighting made it impossible to hide the disappointment on everyone's face. Pale white surfaces surrounded them on all sides: impossibly clean equipment and immaculately cleaned floors. The only hint of color was the computer monitors. Flaming red warning labels.
The experiment had failed.
“What are we going to do?” A man in a suit somberly spoke. “The shareholders are going to be here within an hour. They want a prototype.”
The green chemical substance on the table was losing its color. It molded down until it was a somber gray. Now more sludge than liquid.
“I'm telling you it just needs more biomass.” Some scientist said.
“I don't want to hear it. We don't have time for that. We need a pivot plan, and we need it now.”
Men in business suits congregated at the exit. They were no longer interested in the lab. They pushed themselves into the next room where their discussion could no longer be heard.
The intern stood watching the substance. They laid out some proteins for it. He didn't understand. Everything should have worked. Why didn't it eat? This stuff could revitalize the medical industry if only he could get it to work.
“Hey you! You're the intern, right?” Some scientist in a long white lab coat expressed sternly.
“Yeah.” The intern responded. “My name is...”
“Who cares.” The scientist said plainly as men in suits pulled him into the next room.
“Get rid of that thing.”
The intern looked puzzled.
“This substance is stage 4. We can't just get rid of it.” The intern explained.
“I don't care. Find a way.”
“How?”
The scientist had a look of annoyance on his face. The business suits were growing impatient.
“Who cares! Just flush it.” Then he slammed the door behind him.
The intern stood alone in the room with the gray substance. It was no longer active. Completely inert.
“I poured my life into you. I cared. I genuinely cared.” The intern spoke openly. “We were going to save the world together. Protect humanity from injury. And this is how you repay me?”
The substance bubbled softly.
The intern looked around. In the corner of the room was an open bathroom. A toilet with its lid standing upright.
“Screw it.” The intern said.
*
“I'm telling you there's a clog.”
Dave sat in the passenger seat, fumbling with the map. He used his finger to trace lines up and down the highways.
“We're not being paid enough to do this.” Willis sat in the driver's seat, doing his best to navigate the dirt roads of the mountainside. Dave was barely listening. His directions became more frantic.
“Turn right!”
Willis turned barely swift enough to keep them from falling off the side of a cliff. They were on a private road now. Very small and well hidden.
“This is on the map?' Willis asked.
“No. I'm following the pipes.” Dave smiled. Some part of him was having fun.
Their work truck plopped along the dirt road. Every stone bounced them a foot in the air. Willis could see in his side mirror bits of material and tools falling out of place and rolling down into the hills behind them. He groaned in frustration.
“This was not part of our assignment. The company never lets us go out this far.”
Dave finally looked up from the map.
“This is our assignment. Our assignment is to unclog the pipes.” Dave said.
“We service residential zone one. We're not supposed to come up here.” Willis reasoned. “There are six homes back there with no water, and you have me driving up the side of a mountain?”
“All six of those homes have pipe systems that converge into one exit stream. If all six lost flow, that means there's a clog in the exit stream.”
Willis groaned again, louder this time.
“There is no exit stream up here. We're on a dirt road up the side of a mountain.”
“STOP!” Dave shouted.
The work truck came to an abrupt stop. Not a moment too soon. Heat eroding from its engine block began fogging up the windshield.
“If there's no exit stream, then how do you explain that?” Dave said, pointing out into the forest. Willis could see it too. Not too far off the road, the unmistakable concrete monolith with a massive oval entrance.
“Is that place on the map?” Willis asked.
“Nope. But all the pipes converge there. That's where our clog is.” Dave said with a disgustingly proud grin on his face.
Dave exited the work truck first. He grabbed his tool belt and a flashlight.
“Come on, we're losing daylight.” He said.
“Wait a minute. I know this place.” Willis interrupted.
“This is I.S.G. Land.”
Dave looked confused.
“What's that?” he asked.
“International Sales Global. They got an office around here somewhere. High-end medical stuff.”
“So what?” Dave wasn't amused.
“So this is private property.”
“Are you afraid we're going to get killed?”
“ No, Dave. I'm scared of getting arrested.”
Dave laughed.
“Listen. There are six families down the hill who don't have water. What are they going to do if they don't clear this clog?”
Dave didn't wait for a response. His flashlight was on. He was already making his way into the sewer.
Willis looked down and took a deep breath.
“Screw it.” He said as he descended into the darkness.
*
The sewer was a labyrinth of corridors. Endless concrete slabs formed into the shape of something profoundly illogical. Dave marched onward with Willis following not far behind. The bright yellow glow of their flashlights was the only source of light in an otherwise endless void of darkness.
“This place doesn't make sense,” Willis explained. “There shouldn't be this many passages, and they shouldn't be this big.”
Dave didn't respond. He kept pushing forward.
“I've heard stories about I.S.G.” Willis stopped walking. Dave didn't notice.
“They're into all kinds of stuff. Medical stuff. Military stuff. Way beyond our pay grade.”
“Look at the ground!” Dave said, interrupting.
Willis looked down but didn't see anything.
“What?”
“It's completely dry. There's no water. The flow has completely stopped. That must mean we're on the right track.” Dave explained.
Willis kept following, not wanting to be completely left behind.
“Dave. Listen to me.” Willis said, almost begging.
“Dave!”
They stopped walking. Dave turned.
“We need to go back right now. We shouldn't be here.”
“But this is what we're here for. We need to fix the water.”
“This is way above our pay grade. Do you understand? Let someone else deal with it.”
David smiled. His stupid grin was infuriating in infinite ways.
“That's not what you taught me, Willis. You didn't mentor me because you thought I was a quitter.”
Willis gritted his teeth. He was fuming. But he didn't have a response.
“Just one hour. I promise just one hour, and I'll unclog the reservoir.” Dave promised, and there was sincerity in his promise.
“Here, take this.” Dave produced a small radio. Willis groaned as Dave forced it into his hand.
“We split up and find the clog. Once it's cleared, we can leave right away.”
“This is a stupid idea!” Willis shouted, but Dave was already halfway down the passage. The light of his flashlight faded into the darkness.
Willis was on his own.
*
Dave didn't make it far before having to slow down his pace. He covered his nose with his gloved hand. The smell was awful. Not the smell of sewage. Not the smell of stagnant water. It was something else. Something he couldn't describe. Overwhelming scents of different chemicals he could never hope to identify. More clinical than fragrant.
Unnatural.
Yet still he pushed onward through tunnels. Turning left and then right and left again. He quickly lost his path as he started to realize the true size of the sewer maze. He stopped as a hint of terror began to enter his mind. No. None of that.
He produced a wrench from his tool belt and smashed it against the side wall. The sound echoed in all directions until finally reaching its end at the cusp of the neighboring corridor.
“Bingo.” He said.
He turned right and struck the wall. The echo was sharp as it bounced. Dead end.
He turned left and struck the wall. The echo reached farther, so he followed.
He turned right again and struck the wall. The echo ended at the end of the hall. An opening.
He finally reached the reservoir. Or at least he assumed it was the reservoir. The chamber was massive, with ceilings 20 feet high. It was impossibly dark, and his flashlight did little to penetrate the black void.
He kept walking forward. Until finally he could see it. The Clog. The chamber entrance was almost fully covered by something. He didn't understand what it was. A mass of garbage.
“Willis,” Dave spoke into the radio. “I found it.”
Dave lodged the flashlight under his armpit. Then started pulling against the mass with his hands.
“What is it?” Willis asked on the other end of the radio.
“I don't know. Bunch of garbage.”
Dave heaved as hard as he could, but it wouldn't move.
“It's really lodged in there.”
“I got a crowbar. Where are you?” Willis asked.
Dave looked around. The reservoir chamber seemed to extend forever in all directions.
“I don't know.” He said. There was the slightest panic in his voice.
“Okay. Don't panic. This is what we're going to do. I'm close to the exit. I'm going to shout, and you can follow the sound of my voice.” Willis explained, trying to keep his voice calm. Helpful.
“You're still at the exit? You weren't even searching?”
“Hell no! I'm not crazy.”
Dave smiled. He instinctively tried to cover his mouth to hide his relief. That's when he noticed the stuff on his gloves. He must have pulled some with him when he grabbed the mass. It was pulsing and throbbing.
Consuming.
He could feel sudden, agonizing pain in his finger.
“Shit!”
He quickly pulled off the gloves and threw them to the ground.
“What? What's happening?” Willis sounded genuinely concerned.
The Clog began to vibrate slowly. Its mass throbbed, arousing itself. Dave gripped his flashlight and directed it at the thing. The light showed the Clog for what it truly was. More than just a bulk of garbage. It was somewhere between sludge and jelly. An amalgam body of collected materials. Not just human droppings but human leftovers. Clothes and accessories from past meals.
It grew more agitated. Its pulsing body making an audible noise like an exposed beating heart.
Dave gripped the radio with his swollen red fingers.
“Willis.”
“Yeah?”
“This thing. It's moving.”

“What do you mean it's moving?” Willis asked.
He stood near the exit. He made sure he could see the light of the outside world from where he stood. It made him feel safe.  
“Dave? You there?”
The radio was silent.
“I can't come to you, Dave. You have to come to me.”
Still no response. Willis began to nervously pace back and forth. First into the darkness, then back into the light.
“Come on, Dave. It's time to go. You have to follow my voice.”
“WILLIS!”
The sudden noise caused Willis to drop the radio. He scrambled to pick it back up.
“IT'S PEOPLE! THE CLOG IS PEOPLE!”
Willis gripped the radio up to his mouth.
“DAVE!? WHERE ARE YOU?”
The radio once again fell silent. Willis could hear nothing but the somber flow of water. He looked down and noticed the water levels rising. The Clog had moved, and the reservoir was no longer blocked. In mere minutes, the whole tunnel would be flooded.
“DAVE!” Willis shouted into the darkness of the tunnel, hoping for a response. The subtle trickling of water grew more apparent. Willis could feel the water soaking his boots. It was already above his ankles.
“DAVE!”
Willis looked back into the light. The exit called to him. He gripped the radio, hoping for a response. He shook it in frustration.
“DAVE!”
GRAAAAAH!
The scream echoed so loudly it seemed to be right on top of him. He fell backwards, falling into the water. His heart raced. The sound was unmistakable. It was Dave screaming as something horrible mangled him in the darkness.
Willis jumped up to his feet and ran for the light.
Then he froze.
PLOP PLOP PLOP
The unmistakable sounds of footsteps behind him. Emerging from the darkness.
Willis turned and screamed again.
“DAVE!”
But it wasn't Dave that emerged from the darkness.
The Clog.
Its footfalls were massive. The thing had weight to it. Every step sent tidal waves in all directions. On either side of the thing were long appendages it used to feel around the sewer walls. It was blind. Not to say it didn't have any eyeballs. It had many eyes, but they seemed not to work. It had everything. Infinite fingers and toes. Dozens of organs. Sets of lungs which seemed to compress as it pulled in air. And then there was the stuff. A collection of leftover garbage it had been accumulating into its mass. Every ounce of matter causing it to grow bigger and bigger.
Then, finally, Willis could see Dave. He was lodged in the thing's torso. His skin molting away. Only his face was visible. The look of agony in his eyes as his mouth struggled to mumble words incoherently. And one outstretched gloveless arm still reaching for the light.
“HeLP mE wILliS, iT HurTS,” Dave said as the thing slowly plodded forward.
Willis ran. There was nothing he could do.

There were guards waiting for Willis when he emerged into the light. Guards who were armed to the teeth. They were tearing apart his work truck. Taking all his tools and personal effects.  
“Wait! Stay right there!” A man in a black suit and sunglasses halted his progress.
“There's something behind me!” Willis explained, turning to watch the sewer entrance. The water had risen. It was now back to normal. The path was effectively cut off.
“It took my friend!” Willis cried.
“Don't worry about that.” The black suit said. “We can take care of that.”
He produced a notebook from his breast pocket. He started taking notes.
“Now explain to me how you got here?”
Breathing heavily, Willis tried to communicate.
“You don't understand. That thing took my friend. He was doing something to him!”
The black suit let out a sigh. He put the notebook away, realizing he wouldn't make any progress.
“It was healing him.” He explained.
Willis froze.
“What?”
The black suit didn't explain further.
“Aren't you going to do something? I know that thing belongs to you. It's one of your experiments.”
The black suit rolled his eyes under his glasses.
“Listen.” He interrupted. “I.S.G. Is terribly sorry about what happened to your friend. We feel that you deserve compensation for your suffering. Assuming that you're willing to stay quiet about what you witnessed today.”
The black suit produced a contract from out of nowhere. A shiny silver pen filled with ink danced around his fingers.
“All you have to do is sign here, and you're free to go.”
Willis looked at the contract. The compensation was in the millions.
“But what about that thing? I've never seen anything like that before.”
“We already have a containment team working on it. Unfortunately, this is all the fault of some disgruntled intern. I assure you he has been harshly punished.”
The black suit smiled pushing the paper closer and closer.
“Don't worry about it. It's above your pay grade.”
Willis remembered Dave. A hundred different thoughts raced through his head. A hundred different questions mashed against his brain.
“Dave was a hero. He solved the Clog.”
“For now.” The black suit said.
Willis chuckled.
“You're not actually going to capture that thing, are you? Nobody can stop that thing, can they?”
“Maybe the gods.”  The black suit said, smiling.
His grin told Willis everything he needed to know.
Willis looked back at the sewer. He could almost hear the sound of Dave's agony. He took the pen in his hand.
“Screw it,” he said as he signed his name.