“Okay,” he said softly, the word final. “Let’s find out.” Megan’s breath caught. “You’re opening it? Now?” “We’ve ruled everything else out,” he replied, his voice low as he slid the blade under the first corner of the drywall. “And if it’s mold or a leaking pipe inside the structure, the longer we wait, the worse it gets.” She gave a tight nod, but the way she folded her arms across her chest told him it wasn’t mold or a broken pipe she feared. Daniel scored a long, deliberate line along the vertical seam, the knife whispering through the gypsum with a dry, grating sound. He switched to a pry bar, carefully easing the corner free. The drywall cracked with sharp, protesting sounds, then a whole section loosened with a low groan, peeling back from the studs like brittle skin.
His flashlight beam cut through the dust and vanished into the cavity, swallowed whole after only a few inches. It wasn’t just shadow; it was a profound, light-eating blackness that defied the geometry of their own wall. Daniel angled the light, but the darkness seemed to absorb it, refusing to reveal any depth or shape. “It’s… a void,” Megan breathed, her voice thin with disbelief. “It goes back forever.” “It can’t,” Daniel said, more to convince himself. He reached for a larger chunk of concrete, his fingers brushing the cold, rough edge of the hole. With a grunt, he wrenched it loose. It fell with a thud that was too loud in the silent room, revealing an opening nearly two feet across.
A fresh wave of air seeped out, glacial and carrying the smell to a new extreme. It was no longer just damp earth and decay. Underneath it was a sweet, cloying fetor, like spoiled fruit and something metallic, coppery. Daniel gagged, pulling his shirt collar over his nose. Megan turned her face away, eyes watering. “Shine the light again,” she urged, her words muffled by her hand. Daniel obliged, pressing the flashlight right to the threshold. This time, the beam managed to penetrate the consuming dark, but what it revealed made no sense. The light glinted off a surface within, but it wasn’t wood or stone. It was slick, wet, and reflected the light in a dull, organic sheen. Black, root-like veins were everywhere, clustered densely and all converging into that slick surface as if plugged into a source.