Asher
The chapel smells nice.
Like it's been freshly cleaned with lemongrass and pine-scented polish—the kind of scent that seeps into your lungs and becomes oddly comforting.
There's a void beneath the old chapel.
Lex's voice plays in my head. Where could it be?
I scan every corner, searching for any sign of the hidden passage he spoke of.
Approaching the altar, I kneel gently while running my fingers along its edge.
The wood is smooth as if it's been recently replaced. And it smells like newly painted wood. My hand pauses over a subtle indentation, perhaps a hidden latch.
Pressing it gently, I feel a click beneath my fingertips. A section of the altar moves, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
Unlike what Lex had said, the door seems to be open, which only means someone is in there right now.
