Dashiell trudged through the mud, his boots slipping on the wet ground as he approached the old shed. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, "Trisha! Trisha, are you here?"
He paused, listening intently for any response, but the only sound was the relentless pounding of the rain. "Trisha, it's Dashiell! If you can hear me, let me know!"
He took a few more steps, his voice growing more anxious. "Trisha, where are you? Please answer if you're there!" His eyes darted around, searching the dark, rain-soaked surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Finally, a faint sound caught his attention. He stopped and listened, the rain beating down on him. There it was again. A rumble sound, barely audible over the roar of the storm.
His eyes widened, and he immediately began to follow the sound, calling out Trisha's name. As he hurried toward the source of the noise, the rumbling grew louder, and he felt a rush of fear. What was happening?
