The light revealed the face of an old man, his face gaunt and lined, his graying hair disheveled. His eyes were sharp, glinting with something that wasn't quite anger but wasn't far from it.
"What are you kids doing here?" he growled, his voice rough and gravelly.
They stared at him, too stunned to respond.
"Well?" he barked, his gaze sweeping over them. "I asked you a question!"
The man's voice broke the silence like a thunderclap, but his presence didn't ease the tension, it only made it worse. He stood in the doorway, half-shrouded in shadow, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if he already knew everything about them.
"You're trespassing," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "And if you don't leave right now, you'll regret it."
Emma took an instinctive step back, bumping into Chris, who held his flashlight like a weapon. Taylor pressed himself against the wall, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
Alex forced himself to step forward, his voice faltering as he asked, "Are you… are you Charles Anderson?"
The man didn't answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head, his gaze settling on Alex with an intensity that made his skin crawl.
"Maybe," he said finally. "Who's asking?"
Alex swallowed hard. "I… I got a letter. It was sent from this office. But this place has been closed for years. How is that possible?"
Anderson's lips twisted into a faint smirk, though there was no humor in it. "You're asking the wrong questions, kid."
"Then give us the right ones," Jordan said, her voice steadier than the rest of them. She stepped forward, her flashlight aimed at Anderson's chest. "What's going on here? Why are you here, and why did Alex get that letter?"
The smirk disappeared, replaced by something darker. "You shouldn't have come here," he said, his voice dropping even lower.
The room seemed to grow colder, the shadows on the walls flickering unnaturally.
"You're not answering us," Alex said, his frustration starting to outweigh his fear.
Anderson's gaze snapped back to him, and for a moment, there was something wild in his eyes, something unhinged.
"You don't want answers," he said, his voice sharp and biting. "You think you do, but you don't. You've stirred something up, and now you've got nowhere to run."
"Stirred what up?" Emma asked, her voice trembling.
Anderson's lips parted as if he was about to speak, but then the door behind him slammed shut with a deafening bang.
The group jumped, their flashlights jerking wildly across the room. Anderson didn't even flinch.
"You hear it, don't you?" he said, his voice a whisper now, almost conspiratorial. "It's awake."
"What's awake?" Jordan asked, stepping closer despite the fear etched across her face.
Anderson didn't answer. Instead, he turned toward the wall, his hand brushing over the jagged word scrawled in soot: "LEAVE."
"This isn't for you," he said, almost to himself. "It's for him."
His hand moved lower, smearing the letters until they were nothing but streaks of ash.
A low rumble vibrated through the floor, growing louder with each passing second. The lights overhead flickered violently, casting distorted shadows that twisted and stretched across the walls.
"Is this… is this you?" Chris asked, his voice shaking.
Anderson turned back to them, his expression unreadable. "It's this place," he said simply. "It doesn't like visitors."
Before anyone could respond, the rumble turned into a deafening roar, and the room erupted into chaos.
The filing cabinets along the walls tipped over, their drawers spilling papers into the air like a storm of confetti. Chairs skidded across the floor, colliding with walls and each other. The temperature dropped even further, the cold biting at their skin.
"WHAT IS HAPPENING?" Taylor yelled, his voice barely audible over the noise.
"Stay together!" Jordan shouted, grabbing Alex's arm.
Anderson stood in the center of the chaos, unmoving. His eyes locked on Alex, and his lips curled into something between a sneer and a grin.
"You've got their attention now," he said, his voice eerily calm.
"Who's attention?" Alex demanded, his voice cracking.
"The ones who never left," Anderson said cryptically.
The noise stopped as suddenly as it had started, leaving the room in oppressive silence once more. The air was thick, heavy with an energy that felt alive.
Anderson stepped closer to Alex, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You need to leave. Now. Before they decide to keep you."
Alex's heart raced, his mind spinning with questions. "Who? Who are they?"
Anderson leaned in, his face uncomfortably close. "You'll find out soon enough."
Before Alex could respond, Anderson turned on his heel and walked to the door. He pulled it open effortlessly, the hinges creaking under the strain.
"Get out of here," he said over his shoulder. "And don't come back."
For a moment, no one moved. Then Jordan grabbed Alex's arm, pulling him toward the door.
"Come on," she said firmly. "We're leaving."
They stumbled out into the hallway, their flashlights casting shaky beams of light on the cracked walls. The oppressive energy seemed to follow them, pressing against their backs as they moved toward the exit.
When they reached the broken window, Chris climbed through first, helping Emma and Taylor after him. Jordan turned to Alex, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
He nodded, though his hands were still shaking. "I think so."
"Good," she said, her voice steady. "Let's get out of here."
They climbed through the window and into the cool night air. The silence outside felt deafening after the chaos inside, but Alex couldn't shake the feeling that they were still being watched.
When they reached the car, Alex glanced back at the building. Anderson was gone, the doorway shrouded in shadow.
"Who was that guy?" Emma asked, breaking the silence.
"Mr. Anderson," Alex said quietly. "But… I don't think he told us the whole truth."
The group stood in the parking lot, the cool night air doing little to calm their frayed nerves. The faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic were the only sounds, a stark contrast to the chaos they had just escaped.
Alex leaned against the car, his breaths shallow and uneven. His flashlight dangled from his hand, the beam pointing uselessly at the ground.
"That guy," Taylor said, pacing in circles. "What the hell was his deal?"
"He knew something," Emma said, her voice trembling. "He knew exactly what was happening in there."
"Yeah, but what?" Chris asked, rubbing his temples. "He kept talking in riddles. 'They'll keep you'? What does that even mean?"