Karl couldn't sleep that night.

He lay in bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars he'd stuck to his ceiling months ago, his thoughts looping back to the tunnels. That sound—scraping, distant, hollow—it wouldn't leave his head. It had been so faint, but the way it echoed through the cramped space made it feel like it had followed them, lingering just behind their heels as they'd scrambled back up the ladder.

It was probably just the wind, he told himself for the hundredth time. Or maybe a loose pipe. Old buildings had weird noises, right? There was no reason to freak out.

And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that they'd stumbled into something they shouldn't have. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking through the quiet. He reached for it, squinting at the screen.

Group Chat – Unsolved Crew

Drista: Okay so that was literally the coolest thing I've ever done.

 Nick: Debatable.

Drista: Shut up, Hoodie Guy, you were scared too.

 Nick: I wasn't scared. I was annoyed.

 Drista: Sure, sure. Anyway, what's next? 

 Karl: Next??

 Drista: Yeah! We're not stopping there. We've gotta figure out what that sound was. Maybe there's something down there.

 Nick: Or maybe we leave it alone and don't get murdered. Radical idea, I know. 

 Drista: Boring. Karl? Back me up here.

Karl hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. His gut told him going back was a terrible idea, but at the same time, a tiny spark of curiosity flickered in his chest.

Karl: Maybe we could go back during the day? You know, when it's less creepy.

Drista: Lame. 

 Nick: Reasonable.

 Drista: Fine. But I'm not waiting forever. That place has vibes. We're onto something, I can feel it.

Karl sighed, setting his phone down. He had no idea what they were onto, but one thing was clear: Drista wasn't letting this go.

---

The next day, Karl found himself back in the library, flipping through the old campus history book they'd taken with them. The tunnels were only mentioned briefly, as part of a section on the university's original construction in the late 1800s. They'd been built for maintenance and utility work, but several sections were abandoned after a major flood in the 1960s.

That was all fine and boring. But what caught Karl's attention was a small, faded photo tucked between the pages.

It showed a group of workers standing in one of the tunnels, wearing hard hats and holding shovels. At first glance, there was nothing unusual about it—but as Karl looked closer, his stomach flipped.

In the background, just barely visible in the shadows, there was a figure. It wasn't wearing a hard hat or holding a tool. It was just standing there, its face obscured, its outline blurred as if it didn't quite belong.

Karl blinked, leaning in closer. The figure almost looked like...

"Karl!"

He jumped, slamming the book shut as Drista plopped into the chair across from him.

"Jeez, guilty much?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing!" Karl said quickly. "Just, uh, doing some research."

Drista smirked. "You're such a nerd."

Karl ignored her, reopening the book and carefully sliding the photo out. He held it up for her to see. "Look at this."

Drista leaned forward, her expression shifting from playful to intrigued. "Whoa. Creepy. Who's that in the back?"

"I don't know," Karl said. "It's probably nothing, but—"

"Guys, we're not seriously doing this again, are we?"

They turned to see Nick standing nearby, a coffee cup in hand and his usual look of mild irritation firmly in place. He sat down next to Drista, glancing at the photo. "What is that? Bigfoot?"

"It's probably just a shadow," Karl said, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Or it's a ghost," Drista said, grinning.

Nick groaned. "Can we not?"

"Come on," Drista said, leaning back in her chair. "You're not even a little curious? I mean, we heard something down there, and now we've got this creepy photo. You can't tell me that's not at least a little weird."

Nick sipped his coffee, his expression unreadable. "Weird doesn't mean worth getting involved." "But what if it is?" Karl asked quietly.

Nick sighed, setting his cup down. "Look, I get it. You're both bored and looking for something exciting. But maybe let's not mess around with things we don't understand. People go missing in stories like this, you know."

Karl frowned. "You sound like my mom."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Nick said.

Drista rolled her eyes. "Fine, Dad. But I'm not giving up. If you guys won't help me, I'll just figure it out myself."

Karl glanced at Nick, who looked genuinely torn. He wasn't thrilled about the idea of going back, but he also wasn't about to let Drista wander into danger alone.

"Alright," Karl said finally. "We'll go back. But only during the day, and only if we're careful." Nick groaned. "You're gonna regret this."

"Probably," Karl said with a shrug.

---

They returned to the theater building that afternoon, the sun cutting through the shadows that had seemed so menacing the night before. The hatch was still open, the rusty edges catching the light.

Karl felt a little braver in the daylight, though his nerves hadn't entirely faded. He climbed down first this time, his flashlight cutting through the gloom as his feet hit the damp ground.

Drista followed close behind, practically buzzing with excitement. Nick came last, muttering something about bad decisions as he descended.

The tunnel felt different now—less eerie, but still unsettling. The air was heavy, and the faint dripping sound was still there, coming from deeper in the maze of concrete.

"This way," Drista said, her voice barely above a whisper as she led the group forward.

Karl's flashlight beam swept across the walls, revealing old graffiti and the occasional rusted pipe. They turned a corner, and the space opened up into a larger chamber with a vaulted ceiling.

"Whoa," Karl breathed, his voice echoing.

The room was empty, save for a few scattered pieces of debris—broken boards, a rusted chair, and what looked like the remains of an old crate. But there was something about the space that felt... off.

Drista's flashlight stopped on something near the back wall. "What's that?"

They approached cautiously, their footsteps echoing. Karl's stomach twisted as he saw what she was pointing at.

It was a door.

A heavy, metal door with a wheel-like handle, bolted shut.

"Okay, that's creepy," Karl said, his voice tight.

"Exactly," Drista said, grinning. "Let's open it."

Nick held up a hand. "Nope. Hard pass."

Karl hesitated, staring at the door. Something about it sent a chill down his spine. But at the same time, he couldn't help wondering what was behind it.

"Guys," Drista said, stepping closer. "What if this is it? What if this is where the sound came from?"

"Or what if it's a giant mistake?" Nick said.

Karl swallowed hard, his hand hovering over the handle. And as his fingers brushed against the cold metal, the faint sound of scraping echoed through the chamber once more.