Karl should've said no.

As he stood at the entrance to the hatch behind the theater building, staring down into the dark, yawning abyss of the tunnels, every instinct in his body screamed at him to turn around and go back to his dorm.

But Drista was already climbing down, her flashlight beam bouncing against the walls as she descended the ladder. Nick stood next to Karl, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, looking every bit as uneasy as Karl felt.

"This is such a bad idea," Karl muttered.

Nick nodded. "Yeah. But we're here, so."

With a sigh, Karl followed Drista down the ladder, the cold, damp air wrapping around him like a warning.

---

The tunnels felt different this time.

Karl couldn't explain it, but the atmosphere was heavier, the silence more oppressive. Even the faint dripping of water in the distance seemed muted, as if the tunnels themselves were holding their breath.

Drista led the way, holding the map they'd found in the storage room. It was hard to read—the paper was smudged and faded—but she seemed confident as she navigated the twists and turns.

"This is insane," Karl said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Welcome to my world," Nick said, his flashlight beam sweeping across the walls.

Karl glanced at him, surprised by the edge in his voice. "You okay?"

Nick hesitated, then shrugged. "I just don't like places like this. Too many things can go wrong."

Karl nodded, his own nerves jangling. "Yeah. Same."

Ahead of them, Drista stopped suddenly, holding up a hand. "Shh. Do you hear that?"

They froze, the beams of their flashlights shaking slightly as they waited.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their own breathing. But then, faintly, Karl heard it:

The scraping.

It was softer this time, almost rhythmic, like nails dragging across concrete.

Karl's stomach twisted. "It's probably just a pipe or something," he said, though his voice wavered.

Drista smirked. "You keep telling yourself that."

Nick shifted uncomfortably, his flashlight beam darting across the tunnel. "Can we just keep moving? The sooner we're out of here, the better."

---

They followed the map deeper into the tunnels, the air growing colder with every step. The walls were damp now, streaked with rust and grime, and the faint smell of mildew was stronger than before.

"This is it," Drista said, stopping in front of a heavy metal door.

It looked identical to the one they'd found before, with the same wheel-like handle and streaks of rust.

Karl's chest tightened. "Do we really have to go in there?"

Drista grinned. "What's the matter, Karl? Afraid of a little door?"

He glared at her, his pulse racing as she grabbed the handle and twisted.

The door creaked open, revealing another dark room.

But this one wasn't empty.

Shelves lined the walls, similar to the ones in the storage room, but these were filled with strange, rusted equipment—old machines with exposed wires, glass jars filled with unidentifiable substances, and stacks of yellowing papers.

Drista stepped inside, her flashlight sweeping across the room. "This is amazing," she whispered.

Nick hung back near the door, his jaw clenched. "Amazing isn't the word I'd use."

Karl took a cautious step forward, his flashlight beam landing on a large blackboard covered in faded chalk markings.

"It's a lab," he said, his voice trembling. "Halloway's lab."

Drista moved toward the shelves, her eyes wide with curiosity. She picked up a glass jar, holding it up to the light. The liquid inside was murky and thick, and something floated at the bottom—something small and round, like an eyeball.

"Okay, that's disgusting," Nick said, taking a step back.

Drista grinned. "Creepy, but cool. Don't you think, Karl?"

Karl didn't answer. His flashlight had landed on something at the far end of the room—another door, this one slightly ajar.

"Guys," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

They turned to look at him, following the beam of his flashlight.

"What is that?" Drista asked, stepping closer.

Karl's stomach churned. "I don't know. But I don't think we should—"

The door creaked open.

The sound echoed through the room, sending chills down Karl's spine.

Nick stepped forward, grabbing Karl's arm. "We're not going in there."

Drista frowned. "What if there's something important?"

"Or what if there's something we don't want to find?" Nick shot back.

For once, Karl was on Nick's side. The door felt wrong—like it was waiting for them, daring them to step through.

"We should go," Karl said, his voice shaking. "We've seen enough."

Drista hesitated, her flashlight beam lingering on the open door. "Fine," she said finally. "But we're coming back."

Karl didn't argue. He just wanted to get out of there.

---

The walk back through the tunnels felt longer this time, the silence heavier.

Karl stayed close to Nick, his flashlight darting nervously across the walls. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them, just out of sight.

At one point, Nick glanced over at him, his expression softer than usual. "You okay?"

Karl nodded quickly, though his heart was racing. "Yeah. Just... ready to get out of here."

Nick gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Same."

---

When they finally emerged into the cool night air, Karl felt like he could breathe again.

Drista stretched, grinning as she looked back at the hatch. "That was awesome."

"You have a weird definition of awesome," Nick muttered, brushing dirt off his hoodie. Karl didn't say anything. His mind was still spinning, his nerves raw.

But as they walked away from the theater building, he couldn't help glancing back over his shoulder.

For a split second, he thought he saw something—movement in the shadows near the hatch. But when he blinked, it was gone.