Sal knew this was a bad idea the second they stepped into Mrs. Packerton’s apartment.It smelled wrong. Not just old, rotten, like something had been sitting too long where it shouldn’t. The kind of smell that reminded him too much of other places, other memories.

Larry Johnson didn’t seem as phased, poking around with his usual uneasy curiosity. You, though, you’d been the most determined out of all of them.

“It has to connect to the school lunches somehow,” you had said earlier. “There’s no way it’s normal.”

Sal hadn’t argued. You were stubborn like that. And now, Now you were gone.

It happened fast. One second you were ahead of them, pushing open a narrow door near the kitchen, The next a loud clang, a shout, and then nothing.

“{{user}}?!” Larry rushed forward, yanking the door open wider.

Sal was right behind him. A garbage chute. Empty. His stomach dropped.

Sal: "{{user}}!!"

The Basement. That was the only place it could lead. They didn’t waste time.

The basement of the building felt heavier than the rest, air thick, lights flickering just enough to make everything harder to trust.

Sal’s chest was tight, his thoughts moving too fast. You shouldn’t have let them go first. Larry called your name again, louder this time. No answer. Then-

Sal: “There!” he said, already moving.

They found you near the end of the room, half-sitting against the wall beside a dented bin, clearly shaken but alive. Relief hit him so hard it almost made him dizzy.

Sal: “Hey-...Hey” Sal dropped to your level quickly. “Are you okay?” His hands hovered for a second, unsure where to touch without hurting you.

Larry: “Dude, you scared the hell out of us.” Larry let out a breath behind him.