Chapter Two: The Reveal

Matt took a deep breath, glancing at each of us in turn. “We have to go in. We need answers.”

Shawn frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Doesn’t this seem… off? First, the guide disappears, and now we find this?”

I shrugged. “What’s important right now is figuring out how Clara disappeared. We can figure out the specifics later.”

No one argued, though the unease in their eyes mirrored my own. One by one, we went towards the door.

Matt and Shawn had to push together to get the heavy wooden door open, groaning with resistance as if it hadn't been opened before in years and the moment we stepped inside, the air turned cold.
The door slammed shut behind us, the sound echoing through the empty halls.

“What the..."?” Matt whispered.

The air inside the house was thick with dust, but there was an underlying scent of something metallic like old blood. 

The walls, though seemingly clean, felt too perfect, like the house had been frozen in time. Somewhere, faintly, there was a ticking sound, like a clock, each tick matching the rhythm of my heartbeat.

As we walked further into the house, every creak of the floorboards made my skin prickle. My mind was racing, but I tried to keep calm for the others. If I showed fear, I knew it would only make them more anxious. But the truth was, I was already terrified.

Matt wrinkled his nose. “Okay, does anyone else smell that? It’s like... old pennies and regret.”

“Matt.” Shawn’s tone was sharp, his eyes darting around the dim room. “Not now.”

Layla lingered near the door, her hand resting on the handle as if she were ready to bolt. “Should we... split up or stick together?”

“Together.” My voice came out firmer than I intended, and I cleared my throat. “Let’s not make this a horror movie.”

Shawn nodded. “Right. Safety in numbers.” He stepped forward, squinting into the shadows.  “Follow me, I see something.”

The ticking grew louder as we approached the massive clock, its ominous presence looming in the dim green light. The countdown blinked in bold red numbers: 12... 11... 10.

Matt's hand twitched at his side. “This isn’t a bomb, right? Nothing’s going to explode, right?” His nervous laughter only made the room feel heavier.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Shawn’s voice was steady, but his sharp gaze scanned the surroundings. He motioned to the desk just beside the clock. “Look there. Read that.”

We followed his direction, spotting a piece of paper neatly placed on the aged wood. Dust swirled in the faint light, as though the note had been waiting there for us all along. I reached out, my hand trembling, and picked it up.

The paper felt oddly warm in my fingers, as if it held a life of its own. My eyes scanned the words, my breath catching at the names written in neat, deliberate script:

Date: June 4, 2020
Dear Shawn, Abigail, Matt, and Layla,

If you see this message, I have disappeared or gone missing. What I am about to tell you will be quite disturbing. More information will be revealed after the countdown.

Best Regards,

Carla

“Disturbing?” Layla’s voice cracked as she took a step back. “What does that even mean? What does she know?”

Matt peered over my shoulder at the note. “Wait, how did she know we’d find this? Did she plan to disappear?”

“I don’t like this,” I admitted, my fingers tightening around the paper. My mind raced, questions piling up faster than I could make sense of them. How had Carla written this letter to us? Why did the clock seem tied to it? And why did the air feel thicker, almost suffocating, as the countdown continued?

5... 4... 3.

Shawn's eyes skimmed over the words, and he froze. “Wait… the date on this. June 4, XXXX?”

“What?” I snatched the paper from his hand, reading it myself. The ink was faded but legible. My stomach churned. “That doesn’t make any sense. It’s autumn now.”

Layla stepped closer, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “Maybe… maybe she wrote it back then and left it here. Like, as a backup plan?”

Shawn shook his head, his expression hard. “Then why mention the countdown? This doesn’t feel like a leftover message. This feels… current.”

Matt scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the room. “So what, are we in a time loop? A glitch in the Matrix? Or maybe Carla’s just been planning this whole thing for months.”

The thought settled heavily in my chest. If Carla had known what was going to happen if she’d left this letter in summer, knowing we’d find it now what else had she known? And why hadn’t she told us?

“I don’t like this,” I muttered, clutching the paper tightly. “There’s something… wrong about this whole place.”

The clock ticked closer to zero, and a low hum began to fill the room. Layla flinched at the sound, Layla’s nails dug into my arm, her panic spilling into my skin. “What’s going to happen when it hits zero?”

Shawn stepped back, his eyes fixed on the countdown. “Guess we’re about to find out.

“Uh, guys?” I pointed to the clock as the numbers ticked closer to zero. “We might want to back up.”

Matt didn’t need to be told twice. “Yeah, I’m not sticking around if this thing blows.”

“No!” I snapped, my voice surprising even me. “We have to stay. Carla wanted us to see this.” My eyes locked onto the clock. Whatever was about to happen, running wouldn’t save us from it.

The clock's hum grew louder, resonating through the floorboards. It wasn’t just sound it was movement. A faint vibration rippled beneath our feet, like the house itself was alive. Metallic groans echoed from somewhere deep within the walls, each noise sharper and more unsettling than the last.

The air turned icy, pressing against my skin like a cold, damp shroud. My breath came out in shallow puffs, visible in the dim light. Shadows seemed to deepen around us, stretching and shifting as if something unseen was lurking just beyond our reach.
Matt took a shaky step back, “Uh, okay, I don’t like this. Is it just me, or is the whole house... moving?”

“Not just you,” Shawn muttered, his jaw tightening. “It’s like it’s… waking up.”

Layla clutched her arms to her chest, her gaze fixed on the clock. Her lips moved silently, maybe in prayer or maybe she was just trying to hold herself together.

The hum shifted into a low, rhythmic thrum, like a heartbeat echoing in my ears. My stomach churned, the weight of the moment sinking into me. The clock’s red numbers flickered violently, like they were struggling to hold on.

2... 1... 0.

A deafening clang reverberated through the room, rattling the windows. The light from the clock sputtered and died, plunging us into darkness.