Karl had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that stupid door—the last door, the one they hadn't opened. And worse?

The tunnels felt different this time.

The air was thicker, somehow. Heavier. Maybe it was just his nerves, but every sound—their footsteps, the soft flicker of their flashlight beams—felt too loud.

Karl kept glancing at Nick. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because Nick got it. He was just as on edge, just as tense, and somehow, that made Karl feel less crazy.

Drista, on the other hand? Completely unaffected.

"Well," she whispered, voice echoing off the damp walls, "guess we don't have to break the door down."

Karl's stomach twisted as they reached it.

The metal door stood slightly ajar, its rusted edges catching the weak glow of their flashlights. The gap was small—just wide enough to see complete darkness beyond.

Nick exhaled sharply. "I hate everything about this."

Karl did too.

But he still pushed the door open.

---

The room beyond was massive.

Larger than any of the others. The ceiling stretched higher, lost in shadows, and the walls were lined with metal cages.

Karl's breath hitched. "What the hell?"

Drista stepped forward, shining her flashlight over the rusted bars. "Holding cells?"

Nick shook his head. "No. They're too big. And look—" He pointed to scratch marks along the metal. "Something was trying to get out."

Karl's skin crawled.

It had to be animals, right? Some kind of old research involving test subjects? It had to be.

"Holy crap," Drista whispered, crouching near one of the cages. She held up a broken chain. "Whatever was in here... someone let it out."

Karl's breath stuttered. He wanted to turn back. He needed to turn back.

Then his flashlight flickered.

For one split second, before the light stabilized—he swore he saw a shadow move across the far wall.

Not a person. Not an object.

Something wrong.

Karl gasped, stumbling back. His hand instinctively grabbed the closest thing for support—Nick's wrist.

Nick stiffened. "Karl?"

Karl's fingers tightened, his pulse hammering. "I saw something."

Nick went rigid. "Where?"

Karl lifted his flashlight, shining it at the spot where the shadow had been. The beam landed on... nothing. Just cracked concrete.

Nick glanced at him, and Karl could feel the question behind his eyes.

Are you sure?

No. No, he wasn't.

His grip on Nick's wrist lingered for a second too long before he let go.

Drista, oblivious to Karl's spiraling, was now poking around a rusted metal desk in the corner. "Uh, guys? We've got more documents."

Karl forced himself to focus. The room was playing tricks on him. That was all.

Probably.

---

Drista spread the papers across the desk, scanning them with the wide-eyed look of someone who had zero self-preservation.

Karl, however, could barely focus on the words. He felt watched.

Nick must've noticed his fidgeting because he muttered, "Hey."

Karl looked at him.

Nick's gaze flickered to Drista—who was rambling about "unethical human trials" and "maybe murder"—then back to Karl.

"You good?"

Karl's throat was dry. "Yeah."

Nick didn't buy it. "Liar."

Karl exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It's just—this place. I keep thinking I'm seeing stuff."

Nick hesitated. "Me too."

Karl's head snapped up. "Wait, seriously?"

Nick clenched his jaw. "Not like, seeing ghosts or whatever. But... something feels off."

Karl nodded quickly. Exactly. It wasn't a thing they were seeing—it was the feeling. Like they weren't alone.

Like something was right behind them.

Before Karl could respond, Drista made a triumphant noise. "Boom. Found something juicy." Karl and Nick snapped their attention to her. She held up a file labeled PROJECT ECHO.

Karl's stomach twisted. "What the hell is Project Echo?"

Drista grinned. "Let's find out."

She flipped the folder open.

Inside was a photograph.

A black-and-white image of Professor Halloway and James Clark, standing in this very room.

Karl's breath hitched.

The room looked newer in the photo—clean, functional—but the cages were still there.

And the worst part?

There was a third person in the picture.

A figure, standing just behind Halloway. Their face was blurred, indistinct. Like they weren't supposed to be seen.

Karl's stomach dropped. "Who is that?"

Drista scanned the page, frowning. "No name. But..." She trailed off, flipping to another document.

Nick leaned over her shoulder. "What?"

Drista turned the page toward them.

It was a list. A ledger.

With dozens of names.

Halloway. Clark. Lisa Garver.

But as Karl's eyes scanned the list, one entry made his blood run ice cold.

Test Subject 048: Status—Unaccounted For.

Nick inhaled sharply. "What does that mean?"

No one answered.

Because at that moment, the scraping sound started again.

Louder.

Closer.

Coming from just outside the door.

Nick froze.

Drista grinned. "Oh, hell yes."

Karl?

Karl wished they had never come back.