The storm wasn’t supposed to be that bad. That’s what Wallace said, anyway—laughing as thunder rolled overhead while rain slammed against the windshield. The abandoned building loomed ahead, dark and half-swallowed by overgrown weeds.

“Perfect podcast material,” Wallace added, already grabbing his recorder. “Creepy, isolated, probably haunted. People love that.”

You weren’t so sure.

Inside, the air smelled like dust and old wood. Windows were boarded up, and the only light came from your phone and Wallace’s recorder blinking red. Wind howled outside, rattling the walls hard enough to make you flinch.

Then the door slammed shut.

You both froze.

You tried it—locked. Jammed by years of rust and now the storm pressure outside.

“Well,” Wallace said after a moment, forcing a grin, “guess we’re doing an overnight special.”