The light revealed 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?"
Alex stared back at the building, his mind racing. The windows were dark and empty, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone was watching them.
"We need to find out more," he said finally. "About him, about the house, about… everything."
Emma looked stricken at that thought, her face turning ashen.
Jordan stepped closer to him, her expression cautious. "You're not thinking about going back in there, are you?"
"Not tonight," Alex said, though the thought had crossed his mind. "But I can't let this go. That letter, the handwriting, it doesn't make sense. And Anderson knows more than he's letting on."
"Obviously," Taylor muttered. "The guy was practically auditioning for the role of Creepiest Man Alive."
Emma shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. "Do you think he sent the letter?"
Alex shook his head. "No. It's Tobias's handwriting. Anderson didn't write it."
Jordan frowned. "Then why is he still hanging around this place? He said the office has been closed for years."
Chris snorted. "Maybe he's a ghost too."
"Not funny," Emma snapped.
Before anyone could respond, a deep, throaty laugh echoed from the direction of the building.
The group froze, their heads snapping toward the sound.
Anderson stepped out of the shadows, his face illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlights. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, a wide grin stretching across his face.
"You kids," he said, shaking his head. "You should've seen your faces."
Alex blinked, his confusion mingling with a rising sense of indignation. "Wait… you were messing with us?"
Anderson's grin widened. "What did you think? That this place was haunted?"
Taylor let out a strangled laugh, his voice high-pitched with lingering fear. "You… you're joking, right?"
Anderson straightened, stepping into the parking lot. "I mean, I wasn't lying about the building being creepy. And I didn't make it slam the door, if that's what you're thinking. That was my son; God bless his soul; he gets so easily bored. However, this place has its quirks of its own. But yeah, I leaned into it a little."
"You scared the crap out of us!" Emma exclaimed, her face flushing red.
"That was the point," Anderson said, clearly unapologetic.
Alex stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "Why? Why mess with us like that?"
Anderson's grin faded slightly, his tone growing more serious. "Because you're poking around where you don't belong. I wanted to see how serious you were. And now I know."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jordan asked, her voice cold.
"It means you're not going to stop," Anderson said, looking directly at Alex. "Am I right?"
Alex didn't answer. He didn't have to.
Anderson chuckled again, turning back toward the building. "You're persistent. I'll give you that. But persistence doesn't always pay off, kid. Be careful what you're digging up; you might not like what you find."
He took a card out of his jacket and handed it to Alex.
"If you are still determined to be stupid, come see me tomorrow."
With that, he disappeared into the shadows, the door creaking shut behind him.
A short while later, the group piled into the car in silence, the weight of Anderson's words hanging over them.
As Alex started the engine, Jordan glanced at him from the back seat. "So… what now?"
"We keep going," Alex said firmly, though his grip on the steering wheel betrayed his unease.
Chris sighed, slumping in his seat. "Great. Because tonight wasn't traumatizing enough."
"Next time," Taylor muttered, "I'm bringing holy water."
Despite everything, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that Anderson wasn't done with them yet.