Bunker V-GJ with a Mummified Dog

A command-type bunker hewn into the rocky mass of a city hill — and a fairly large one at that. It has three entrances along the street: one half-buried, another almost completely so. Inside, the tunnels branch into a web of junctions and crossroads, with a few dozen small empty rooms and wider halls at the dead ends of the workings.

The facility once housed a diesel generator, but all that remains of it is the concrete plinth and the smell. The bunker is dry, though moisture seeps through the walls in places. The state of things is bleak: essentially only the walls have survived. No metal whatsoever. Plastic waterproofing sheeting clings on in spots.

Access is entirely free. The place is visited by local youth and has been partly covered in graffiti. Inside, an abnormal number of moths have taken up residence; dog skeletons are scattered about the floor. Outside, an old man grazes his goat.