attempts at a story

i just started free writing this is what i ended up with:

In the city there walked many people some tall some lanky some wide some not. some days the light flooded into the city through the smog creating a gorgeous twilight tint on everything. Through the dim lighting one could see a whole manor of things from the steeple clad in ancient stone and pristine glass of a myriad of colors. Vehicles race side by side making use of the latest and greatest of engines. Buildings made of amalgamations of brass, iron, copper, and steel. It used to be that the feeling of the smog against my skin was soothingly cool and nostalgic. however now that i know the truth i can not be but disgusted by the very sight and feel of the stuff. as if my innocence has been ripped from my body and fed to the dogs of hell.

Unbeknownst to those clamoring around absorbed in the hustle and bustle of their lives in this glorious nation, the world is a much more sinister place. In the dark corners and alleys children are starving. People are losing limbs to the damn machinery that is the very convenience of modern life. And all of this is caused by those unspeakable abominations whose machinations control all aspects of people's lives. Not many seem to notice their existence since they prefer the shadows. But I have seen that which they have wrought. Grotesque beasts the size of mountains that writhe with tentacles and fleshy limbs whose very nature was the subconscious inspiration to the large mechanical contraptions that all modern  cities are incapable of running without. They ate my arm, pierced my brother's heart and my best friends arm.

It all started four years ago when my best friend Estelle, my small younger brother Cecil and I were walking around the sewers at night. we were a few miles into the tunnel system that winds and branches off of the sewer system; part of a large series of catacombs that have since been abandoned by time and civilization and were retrofitted to be our cities sewer system. We scavenge the cultural artifacts of our ancestors to see what is valuable and then sell it for quick cash. Normally we go in much larger groups as there is safety and stability in numbers but we got greedy. none of us had eaten for days and we had exhausted what little money we had. Ideally we would scour the first five floors for stuff however most of the interesting stuff has been removed by now so we decided to give the 9th floor a shot.

So here we are wandering the 9th floor where the most danger there were just some large rats, nothing a sturdy knife couldn't handle with the right skill. since before our parents generation there have always been rumors of monsters roaming the catacombs but there have never been any incidents. Forward and back left and right up and down slopes we went. As we walked Estelle remarked how odd the architecture was getting with it beginning to warp and bend wood beams seemed to fuse and or transform into stone archways, vine which by no means should be thriving in this environment that lacked regular sunlight were lush and crowding the walls. the further we went the worse it became eventually we started seeing drawing and statues littered all over the place depicting horrendous beasts. things of tendrils and bone, were they bone or were they flesh i can hardly say. what i can say is that Cecil quickly became more and more frightened as we progressed through the contorted system of tunnels. Cecil is as strong kid in some ways both him and i had to grow up quickly once our parents died, I more-so than him. 

Cecil quickly interrupted my reminiscing. stating he may have heard something like a small beast. i politely told him to quit his whining as if we did not find anything he would have other problems to worry about besides fear, malnutrition being one of them. In retrospect i 
__________________________________________________________________

Father and mother were strict but they provided for us I do not particularly miss the two of them however i do lament the fact that if they were still alive we probably would not have had to suffer starvation and lack of proper housing. when they died to the Silva I was but 15 years and Cecil a measly 6.
  
________________________                    _____________________________   _______

After that incident Estelle missing her left arm and I now missing my dominant right arm dragged Cecil's rapidly dying body back to the surface.