Daniel called his brother, Mark, to come over. Within an hour, the two of them stood side by side in front of the mysterious outline, armed with crowbars and flashlights. It took several tense minutes of prying before the hinges finally gave way. A rush of stale, foul air burst out, forcing them to step back. When their flashlights cut through the darkness, they saw a narrow staircase disappearing into blackness.
Mark tried to laugh it off. “Looks like the start of every horror movie ever,” he said, but his voice was tight. Daniel hesitated for a moment, then started down the stairs, the wood creaking beneath his boots. Mark followed, the beam of his flashlight trembling slightly.
At the bottom was a small, windowless room made entirely of concrete. The air was damp and heavy. In the corner stood a table coated in dust, and on top of it sat a small metal box with a broken padlock. Daniel knelt down, lifted the lid, and froze.