A parking garage is a layered hive of concrete and shadows, stacked silence and echo. Cars idle, headlights sweep across pillars, and every sound feels amplified in the emptiness. The air smells of oil, dust, and the faint tang of ozone from fluorescent lights that buzz without rhythm.
Down below, a bored attendant slouches in a booth by the gate, bathed in the flicker of a tiny TV, barely glancing up as tickets are fed into the machine. It's a labyrinth of painted arrows and forgotten vehicles that seem to watch from the corners. But at the top, the city stretches out in all directions: towers gleaming, neon pulsing, a sea of movement and light. And the wind feels clean for once. Someone leans on a railing, cigarette in hand, breathing it all in: the momentary illusion that they’re above it.
Read This:
“The echo of tires on concrete bounces from every direction. Neon paint lines glow faintly under flickering lights, and every ramp looks the same as the last. It’s easy to feel watched.”
Ambushes, Chases, Surveillance, Negotiation, Hiding.
Mostly full, the steady churn of engines and pedestrians crossing between vehicles.
Traits: busy, engine noise, watchful attendants, movement
Nearly empty, pools of shadow swallowing whole sections, the hum of lights the only constant.
Traits: echoing, isolation, shadowed corners, exposed
Power fails, emergency lights sputter, and the air grows heavy with panic and exhaust.
Traits: darkness, panic, blocked exits, alarms
Abandoned levels fall into decay, claimed by squatters, myths, or urban predators. Graffiti and makeshift shrines mark the way down.
Traits: graffiti, squatters, feral presence, haunted silence
hit by car, ambushed, trapped, exposed to cameras.ambush setup. grisly discovery. lockdown. mystic trail.