CHAPTER ONE ↴

The group of seven stood silent, all eyes glued to the open storage unit in front of them. Boxes filled the tight space, piled to the ceiling like castle walls. Newspapers littered what ground could be seen. A breeze twisted its way around the teenagers, picking up forgotten papers as it went by. Although the sun was high, not a cloud moved through the sky; the cool weather kept them all clinging to the layers they put on that morning.

Allison's nose scrunched. Her brunette waves cascaded over her wildly decorated denim jacket. She looked up at the two boys in the whole group with a hard glare. She wished for nothing more than to smack them both on the back of the head for waking her up that early to look at a ridiculous storage unit...of all things.

However, the grins plastered to their faces evaporated the steam spilling from her pink tinted ears, "You two bought this? This abandoned storage unit?"

"Can you believe that?" Wren bounced. The blond's smile grew, wrinkles appearing at the corner of his eyes. He had this child-like wonder about him. As if the right amount of enthusiasm would carry the entire situation.

"And it only cost us six hundred dollars." Josh's grin revealed a set of crooked teeth. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his ever-growing hair, "You should have seen how much the others were going for. It was a steal, really."

The two boys shared a celebratory high-five, grinning at each other as if they'd just won some sort of medal.

"I'm sorry..." Allison twisted to look back at them, her eyes sweeping across their faces. Innocent smiles couldn't save them now. She couldn't stop the words from tumbling from her lips even if she had wanted to, "You spent how much?"

Archer pushed up her glasses using her index finger. They were this round pair that looked like she'd stolen them straight off Harry Potter himself. Her features were stone as she crossed her arms over her chest and her words... Well, those cut through the air quicker than any knife, "This is the most idiotic thing either of you have ever done and I think that's being extremely generous on my part."

Wren's smile faltered, his broad shoulders drooping, "You... You never know... There could be something incredible hiding inside."

"I think if we keep an open mind and just imagine the possibilities--" continued Josh. Being the tallest member of the group, he easily rested a comforting hand on Wren's shoulder and sent him a shrug.

"An open mind?" Jean shot the two a dark laugh, "What a load of bullshit," the girl ran a hand through her thick hair; a small tattoo of the ace of clubs peeking out behind her left ear, "I like my mind exactly how it is, thank you."

Archer's thin lips twitched up for only a second, "And how's that? Closed and a little darker than necessary."

Jean nodded her head, "Exactly. Plus, let's be real for a moment, shall we? It's probably just a bunch of shit the owners didn't care about anymore. That's why they never came back for it."

"I guess we won't know until we open something," Josh tried to steer the conversation back to the positive side.

"Yeah..." whispered Elliott. Her blonde bangs flopped in front of her glasses as she nodded, "But, you people obviously don't watch Criminal Minds. I mean, what if there's body parts or torture journals, or something in there."

Josh's eyes found the short blonde with a head full of long curls. He shook his head and tried to hide his soft smile from the group. However, he couldn't hide the longing in his gaze.

Laughing, Allison raised her hands and wiggled her fingers while mimicking a cartoon ghost noise. Elliott turned in an instant and narrowed her usually bright eyes at her. Allison sent her an innocent smile in return.

Raven laughed into her chunky sweater, desperate to hide the sound. The black-haired girl shook with the effort of holding back her laugh, her eyes twinkling, a wide smile brightening up her entire face. She was as subtle as a bomb with her emotions. Laughing and crying at the drop of a hat, "Stuff like that only happens in the movies."

"That's what they all say," mumbled Elliott.

Jean rolled her eyes, the piercing in her brow shifting slightly, "Damn it, you two. Don't fucking jinx us, will you?"

"This is ridiculous," groaned Archer, tipping back her head, "You two are insane. You know that, right? Where did you even get the money to afford this?" She eyed the boys. They looked at each other with sheepish expressions, "Never mind," Archer quickly added, rubbing her temple, "I don't think I wanted to know the answer to that particular question."

The boys shook off the cranky brunette's words. Bouncing on his heels, Wren continued to shove his hands deep into his pockets before pulling them back out. A nervous habit he'd never been able to shake. A simple tell that brunette's words had affected him more than he'd shown, "But... Imagine all the cool stuff that could be waiting inside for us to find. I mean, what if there's collectables or some valuable antiques, or something along those lines."

"And, what if there is?" asked Allison, her brow twitching as she watched him. She loved him, but that boy was on another planet completely, "What are we going to say if we try to sell it? 'Sorry if this was yours, but we bought your old storage unit with all your stuff in it'?"

"Technically, we could if we wanted to. That's typically how storage auctions work. Wren and Josh now own everything within the container." Archer pipped in.

The friends stood in silence for a long time, each of them simply staring at the pile of boxes before them. After all, Wren was completely right. Those boxes could be filled with comic books for his collection or old vinyl records for Jean, or even art supplies for Raven. The possibilities were endless; at least they were until someone got enough courage to open one of the boxes.

It was Schrodinger's Cat. It was both garbage and treasure all at the same time.

"Alright, fuck this," Jean marched into the space. Her sneakers pounded against the concrete. She grabbed the first box she came to and ripped it open. Peering over the edge, her vision was blocked by a bunch of purple hair falling into her face. Running a hand through her hair, Jean took a closer look inside.

Piles of old photographs filled the box. Some in square frames while some were in ovals and others not in frames at all. They didn't seem to be of any one family. Each photo contained a different group from all different time periods. Polaroids were stuffed down the sides and there were even photos in black and white.

Dumbfounded, Jean looked over her shoulder at the group, "It's just a bunch of photos." She handed a couple out for them to look at, "Doesn't even look like the same group. It's just a bunch of random people."

The photos were passed around and from what everyone could tell; they were normal group photos with everyone happy and smiling at the camera. The groups varied in size and culture, but as fascinating as finding the old photos was, the friends couldn't help wondering why someone had a storage unit full of them or what looked like a storage unit full of them.

How did one single person get a hold of so many different photos in the first place? Had they stolen them? And, if so, what would someone get out of stealing photos from complete strangers? They'd be difficult to replace, but where was the satisfaction? There'd be no selling them.

Wren was the second brave soul to enter the unit and open a box. To his surprise he found it to be full to the brim with old vinyl records instead of photos. It had everything from Frank Sinatra to AC/DC to Mamma Mia.

The boy danced in place; a large grin spread across his face. He knew there had to be something worthwhile in the unit. He could feel it from the moment they opened the door, "Jackpot," he sang and lifted out a barely used Elton John record.

He sent Elliott a playful look, "And, you thought it would be torture journals."

"There is always a small possibility," said Elliot, "and you can never be too careful, you know."

Rustling echoed from the back of the unit causing all heads to snap in its direction. They stood frozen in their places and shared an uneasy look with one another. Naturally something had to go bump after they discussed body parts.

"Because that's completely normal," Archer snarked, adjusting her maroon beanie.

Huddling closer, they all stepped farther into the unit; careful not to knock over any of the boxes. As they inched towards the back, the group kept themselves on high alert. Ready for whatever was back there. Another rustle came and the group paused.

"I'm sure it's nothing," said Raven, but even she didn't quite believe the words coming from her own mouth.

"You don't know that..." said Allison, "With all these photos in here it wouldn't surprise me if it was a ghost."

Josh couldn't keep himself from chuckling. He bent down to whisper in Elliott's ear. She leaned back against him with a smile pulling at her lips slowly. She bit the bottom one to try to keep the smile at bay, but it didn't help. He always calmed her nerves. Just his presents calmed her, he didn't even need to speak.

"You can always count on Allison to think it's a ghost, aye El." She laughed, covering her mouth with her hands.

"God, Allison. It's not a fucking ghost. When has it ever been a ghost," snapped Jean.

The group moved together, getting closer to the sound. Wren leaned in for a better look over a pile of boxes and every followed his lead. Without warning, a large ran came scurrying from its hiding place and let out a piercing cry.

"Oh, fuck me!" yelled Elliott. Jumping behind Josh, she crumpled the back of his button up shirt into her hands. His arms flew back to cover her the best he could. Raven's hand shot up to her face as she turned to face Jean. Allison grabbed Wren's wrist tight as she froze next to him.

Archer raised a brow and turned to look at her friends. She had been the only one in the group who didn't scream or move an inch. Standing there, she blinked. Her hands came together in a thunderous clap. She howled with laughter, "You should have seen your face--" she interrupted herself with an undignified snort and water formed in the corner of her eyes, she bent over to hold her stomach, "All because of a harmless little rat!"

Soon the whole group was laughing with her; not as much as Archer, but Elliott was happy that they were at least laughing. It had been a while since they did something like that, laugh and have fun like they used to. As the group settled down, all of them realized how much they'd missed being together. These small things in life that kept distancing them from each other.

Glancing down, Archer furrowed her brows as something out of place caught her eye. She bent down and grabbed a pocket sized book that had fallen during all the commotion. Closing the book, Archer took a minute to examine the spine, IN AN INSTANT BY BREA T. WALSH. She tapped her thumb ring against the cover contemplatively before flipping it open and finding a set of rules in scratchy handwriting on the inside.

1 - Always travel in groups

2 - Always have the same amount of people throughout your journey

3 - Always take a picture before you leave!

* if you do not have a camera one will be provided for you

Archer looked up from the book to find her friends wandering around the unit, searching more boxes and chatting amongst themselves in their naturally formed duos. She took this moment to observe them as she'd done many times before.

Wren and Allison stood over a box, pulling out funky looking hats and making faces at each other. Allison laughed, pushing Wren away. His grin widened as he stepped back and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Wren had this fear that he'll never be good enough for anyone and feels as if everything he does is wrong. Because of these traits, he tried to overcompensate by being the biggest personality in the room. His laugh is always the loudest and he's somewhat childish in his attempts to get laughs.

Allison had this dying need to be loved and to give love in return. She craves to know that there's something out there that's bigger than just her. She doesn't think much of herself; she finds herself average and that's what really terrifies her. She wants anything other than an average and normal life like everyone else.

Across the way was Jean and Raven, heads together talking quietly to one another. They looked like a duo. Raven in her paint covered clothes and Jean in a leather jacket and dark skinny jeans. The two of them weren't even looking in boxes anymore. Too immersed in their conversation to care about what was going on around them.

Jean had this way about her. She had to come off as 'tough' and 'strong' because 'weak' got you killed... Or worse. Nothing good came out of being considered weak. So, she wears a mask of sarcasm and a bad attitude.

Raven on the other hand, she had this way of making broken things beautiful. Even when she shattered... Even without experiencing something, her art could shake someone to their every core with feelings they've never known. Art was her way of never disappearing. When it came to her art, she'd never be forgotten or overlooked.

Josh and Elliott stood closest to the entrance. She pointed to a box and the boy easily reached over and grabbed it for her. That was them. Never really saw one without the other. She lit up and pulled the top open. He stood there, his eyes barely leaving the girl. He could stare at her all day and always find something new to look at.

She smiled and turned to him. Josh nodded and then finally turned to look at the box. She watched him for a moment then smiled to herself and went back to the box. Archer's gaze went down to their hands. His fingers traveled down her arm and to her palm. Their hands slowly came together and interlocked. Most people would have never noticed, but the pair leaned closer together, their hands hidden from everyone's line of sight.

Josh was the kind of person that poured his heart and soul into everything he did and every song he wrote. He wants so badly to be wanted by someone, but can't find the words to ask for it. So, he stays silent in a world full of noise. Yet, his music... His music says everything.

And, Elliott. She was extremely indecisive because she's afraid to hurt anyone's feelings if she makes the wrong decision. She was so busy trying to make sure everyone is happy and safe that she often forgets and neglects herself in the process. She's unsure of herself and what she wants in life, or if she can achieve what it is she does want.

Breathing a sigh, Archer sat cross-legged on the concrete floor and flipped through the worn-out pages. There she was hidden from the world and everyone in it. It was just her and that book; however it was just filled with more photos.

Much like the ones before, but these had been taped to the pages. Each had two years scribbled underneath them, all of them ten years apart. Some of them were labeled with a check mark while others had an 'x'. Yet, all of them had at least one or more tally marks next to them.

Curious, she pulled a box of pictures at her feet closer. Upon inspection all the photos in the box had matching marks somewhere on the back. Her brows furrowed. Sitting there, she tried to figure out what exactly the markings could possibly mean.

She was about to call out to her friends, when the wind picked up, rattling the storage unit more than it logically should have. Scrambling to her feet, the girl's loafers squeaked against the floor. All talking died down with a high-pitched whine coming from the door.

Had it been a normal day for the town's random blustery windstorms, the group might not have thought twice about the incident. Yet, even with it being unusually cold for the middle of summer, the air still hung thick and unmoving. Archer couldn't explain it away even if she wanted to.

Before anyone could say a word, they heard a few alarming noises from further away that sounded almost too much like metallic grinding.

"Must be someone trying to spook us," said Wren, "assholes."

No sooner had he spoken, a loud bang on the metal wall to his right echoed through the room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. Wren wasn't much of a conspiracy theorist, but even he was beginning to get a bad feeling.

Elliott was the first to speak up, "Alright," she squeaked, her thumb tapping away rapidly against her thigh, "I think that's enough excitement for me." The edges of her red lips tipped down; yet, she went completely still when another crashing noise echoed through the building once again.

"Or, maybe I'll just stay right here." Her voice came out small as she twisted the silver band on her ring finger.

"Here," Josh squeezed Elliott's shoulder softly, "I'll go check it out. I'm sure it's nothing." He glanced down at the blonde, but her gaze was glued on the door. He could practically hear the thumping of her racing heart. He stepped towards the door before turning back to his friends, "I'll be right back."

"Be careful," whispered Elliott, but her voice was carried away with the wind.

Watching him leave, the friends stood without moving; the air heavy on their shoulders. When nothing happened, they relaxed a bit and Wren breathed a sigh of relief. It didn't take them long before they separated in the unit and started looking back through the boxes.

Rubbing her arms, Elliott couldn't quite convince herself to take her eyes off the open door. This twisting feeling sat in the pit of her stomach that she just couldn't seem to shake.

"He'll be fine. He's a big boy," Archer piped up beside her.

Elliott jumped, her hands flying to her chest, "You scared me... I know he will. It's just--"

"Hey guys," Allison yelled, finding her way out of a stack of boxes, "look at this." She smiled, holding up a yellow, polaroid camera, "Come here. I want a picture."

"Do you think it even has film?" Wren asked, lazily wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she smiled, "I already checked." His smile grew when he glanced over at her beaming face. The friends gathered at the back of the unit. Turning the camera towards them, Allison's smile widened.

"Everyone, smile!" They squished together with smiles on their faces,

A realization raked across Archer's consciousness, 'if you do not have a camera, one will be provided for you'.

A sense of dread washed over the teenager and she reached for the camera. The sudden need to stop Allison from taking the photo startled her down to her very bones. Before she knew what was happening, a flashing light blinded everyone for a few seconds. When things went back to normal and the black dots cleared from their vision, laughter filled the air.

"I don't see anything, you guys!" Josh called back to the group. Shaking his head, he kicked the ground with the tip of his shoe. The wind played with his hair, but he still wandered outside, scanning the area.

"Well hurry up then. Allison found a camera and she wants a picture of everyone!" Elliott yelled back, a huge smile on her face. The scar on her upper lip moving and revealing the smallest gap between her two front teeth.

Shaking the picture, Allison called out, "We want you in the next one!"

Josh shoved his hands deep in his pockets, hiding them from the biting wind, "Coming!"

"Arch, your hands in the way. But let's be honest, you should have taken the photo instead. You have longer arms than I do." Allison sighed, looking closer at the picture, she groaned, "Where did my eyes go?"

"Funny, I didn't know we were mean-mugging."

Allison tried not to laugh, pushing the blond boy away from her, "Shut up, Wren."

A low groan escaped the roll-up door. All heads turned in the direction of the tall boy walking back towards them with his head hunched over, trying his best to stay warm. The rollers whined in protest as the door started its descent.

Josh's eyes snapped up at the sound, panic spilling over his features. He broke out into a run as the door hit halfway down. The door let out a crash as it came in contact with the ground; leaving the six friends in complete darkness.

Elliott walked slowly at first, but soon was in a full on sprint. She couldn't put on the brakes fast enough before slamming into the door, "Josh!" She yelled, her hand trying to pry the door up, "Josh!"

Archer walked up behind the girl and put a hand on her shoulder, however, Elliott shrugged it off just as quick. She couldn't have anyone touching her. Not when she already couldn't breath.

"Elliott, it's alright. There's a pulley in here somewhere. They can't have them without one. It's for emergencies." However, the darkness still sent a shiver down Archer's spine. Something wasn't right. She could feel in the air.

"Does anyone have a flashlight?" Raven spoke from somewhere in the back.

"Hold on," Wren said, "I saw one earlier on a box." The unit was quiet. So quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop. There was not a sound in the air besides Elliott's heavy breathing and Wren shuffling through boxes.

The flashlight clicked on, illuminating the panic plastered across Elliott's face. She couldn't keep the shaking from every breath she took. Her eyes darted around the door, trying to find that magical pulley. Everyone could see her starting to crack. Her hands rubbing against her eyes, hard.

"I can't hear him..." Elliott whispered, "Why can't I hear him anymore." Giving up on the pulley all together, she tried to grip anything that would help her yank the door upwards, but nothing was helping. Her hand slipped against a screw, slicing her palm.

"God damnit!" She screamed, her fist colliding with the door. The girl hiccupped, barely able to take in enough air as it was. She could feel the darkness pressing in on her from all sides. Creeping in closer. The walls were sliding in and it took all she had to keep standing. It was suffocating her.

Josh would have known what to do. He always knew what needed to be said or done when she got this way. When she couldn't quite see straight. When the edges of her brain got fuzzy and confused.

She faintly heard Archer's voice to her left. No doubt trying to calm her down, but it wasn't right. She pressed her hands against her temples trying to drown everything out. Her chest heaved up and down, tears started to slip from her eyes.

There it was...the darkness. It was wrapping its talons around her throat.

Her fist barely collided with metal that time before she slid to the ground, "The door—please..."