Mara’s boots crunched over frozen gravel as she pulled her jacket tighter, the wind slicing through the thin fabric. Jax jogged to catch up, his breath visible in the pale afternoon air. “You sure about this?” he asked, glancing at the rusted gate ahead. The metal groaned as Mara pushed it open, revealing the overgrown path leading to the old mill. Moss clung to the stones, and the scent of damp earth hung heavy in the air.
“It’s the only lead,” Mara said, her voice steady. The mill had stood abandoned for years, a relic of the town’s forgotten industry. But last week, she’d found a note tucked inside a hollow tree—*Follow the lights*. Now, the sky had darkened, and the first hints of storm clouds loomed over the hills.
Jax hesitated, his fingers brushing the pocket where he kept his flashlight. “What if it’s just some kids messing around?” His tone was light, but his eyes flicked to the trees, searching for movement.
Mara didn’t answer. She’d seen the flicker of light earlier that morning, too brief to confirm, but enough to ignite her curiosity. The mill’s windows were dark, yet something about the silence felt wrong—too still, like the world held its breath.
They reached the mill’s entrance, the door hanging ajar. Inside, the air was colder, thick with the smell of mildew and rust. Mara’s flashlight beam cut through the gloom, revealing cracked tiles and sagging beams. Jax stepped ahead, his light sweeping over the walls. “This place is a death trap,” he muttered.
“Then let’s not stick around,” Mara replied, her voice clipped. She moved deeper into the building, her boots echoing against the floor. A sudden gust of wind rattled the roof, and the flashlight flickered. For a heartbeat, the room plunged into darkness.
“Mara?” Jax’s voice was sharp, urgent.
She fumbled with the flashlight, pressing the button. The beam stabilized, revealing a doorway at the far end of the room. Something about it felt different—cleaner, more recent. “There,” she said, pointing. “That’s not part of the original structure.”
Jax approached, his brow furrowed. The door was metal, unmarked, its edges sealed with a strange black substance. “What do you think it leads to?”
Mara didn’t answer. Her fingers brushed the surface, and a shiver crawled up her spine. The material was warm, almost alive. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I need to find out.”
The door creaked open under her touch, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness. A low hum filled the air, rhythmic and steady, like a heartbeat. Jax’s flashlight trembled in his hand. “This isn’t right,” he whispered.
“Then turn back,” Mara said, but her own voice felt distant, as if she were listening to someone else. The hum grew louder, vibrating in her bones. She stepped forward, the stairs narrowing into a tunnel. The air thickened, carrying the metallic tang of electricity.
Jax followed, his breath shallow. “What’s down there?”
Mara didn’t know. But the light—faint and pulsing—guiding them deeper into the earth. The tunnel opened into a vast chamber, its walls lined with glowing panels. A central console flickered with data streams, and at the center stood a device resembling a sphere, suspended in midair.
“What is that?” Jax’s voice was barely audible.
Mara approached, her pulse roaring in her ears. The sphere pulsed in time with the hum, its surface shifting between colors. She reached out, fingers brushing the edge. A surge of heat flooded her hand, and the room brightened. The panels flared to life, casting shadows across the walls.
“Mara!” Jax’s shout was drowned out by a sudden roar. The sphere exploded outward, sending a shockwave through the chamber. Mara stumbled back, her vision blurring. The lights dimmed, and the hum turned into a deafening screech.
“Get out!” Jax grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the stairs. The tunnel trembled, dust raining from the ceiling. Mara stumbled, her legs refusing to move. The sphere’s light had faded, replaced by a deep red glow emanating from the walls.
“What’s happening?” she gasped.
Jax’s face was pale. “I don’t know, but we need to go!”
The ground shook again, and a crack split the floor near them. Mara yanked her arm free, her mind racing. The device—whatever it was—had activated something. And now, the mill was collapsing around them.
She turned, sprinting up the stairs as the tunnel behind them groaned. Jax followed, his breath ragged. The exit burst into view, and they tumbled into the storm-wracked night.
Rain lashed their faces as they scrambled to their feet. The mill’s roof caved in with a thunderous crash, sending plumes of dust into the air. Mara stared at the wreckage, her chest heaving. “What was that?” she whispered.
Jax didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the storm seemed to pulse in time with the hum she still felt in her bones. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But I think we just woke something up.”
