Maya spent most of the next day in a haze, unable to shake the eerie events of the previous night. She avoided the strange door on her way out of the building, keeping her gaze firmly on the elevator buttons. The whispers, the hum, the shadow—it all felt too real. 

By the time she met Aiden and the others for a study session in the campus library, she was a bundle of nerves. 

---

“Alright,” Tessa announced, slamming her books down on the table with unnecessary force. “I’m officially over this project. Who decided design theory needed to be so complicated?” 

Liam smirked. “Probably the same people who decided deadlines should exist.” 

Maya barely heard them. She was staring at her sketchbook, her pencil hovering above the page. Instead of the rooftop slide or abstract designs, she found herself sketching the strange door and the crack running down its surface. 

“Maya?” Aiden’s voice snapped her out of her trance. He leaned over, glancing at her drawing. “What’s that?” 

Maya quickly flipped the page, forcing a smile. “Nothing. Just doodling.” 

Aiden frowned, unconvinced. “You’ve been acting weird lately. Is everything okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Maya said, a little too quickly. 

Dante, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. “You were looking at that door yesterday, weren’t you? The one near the elevator.” 

The table fell silent. 

“What door?” Tessa asked, her curiosity piqued. 

“It’s nothing,” Maya insisted, but Dante shook his head. 

“There’s something off about it,” he said. “I didn’t notice it before, but now... I don’t know. It feels wrong.” 

Tessa leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Spooky mystery door? Why haven’t I seen this? Maya, we’re investigating.” 

“No!” Maya said, louder than she intended. Her friends looked at her in surprise. 

“It’s just... I think we should leave it alone,” she said more softly. “There’s something creepy about it.” 

“Creepy how?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Maya hesitated, unsure how to explain without sounding crazy. “I’ve been hearing noises. At night. And I think they’re coming from behind that door.” 

---

Her words hung in the air, tension settling over the group. 

“You’re probably just stressed,” Aiden said gently. “Old buildings make noises all the time.” 

“Yeah,” Liam added. “And cracks in doors are just cracks. Not everything has to be a horror movie.” 

Tessa, however, was intrigued. “Or maybe it *is* a horror movie, and we’re the leads. Maya, I’m serious—let’s check it out. I’ll bring a flashlight.” 

“No,” Maya said firmly. “I’m serious, Tessa. Don’t mess with it.” 

Tessa raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave your creepy door alone. For now.” 

Dante didn’t say anything, but his expression was thoughtful, as if he was piecing something together in his mind. 

---

That night, Maya stayed up late, working on her project. She tried to focus on her artwork, but her thoughts kept drifting to the door and the crack. Her curiosity itched at her, even as her instincts screamed at her to stay away. 

At midnight, unable to resist any longer, she grabbed her phone and slipped out of her apartment. The hallway was eerily quiet, the flickering fluorescent lights casting long shadows. 

When she reached the door, she hesitated. The hum was louder now, a deep vibration that seemed to resonate in her chest. Her hand trembled as she reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of the crack. 

It felt warm, pulsing like a heartbeat. Maya jerked her hand back, her breathing shallow. 

She crouched down, peering into the crack. For a moment, she saw nothing but darkness. Then, something moved. 

It was quick, almost imperceptible—a shadow shifting, a glint of something metallic. 

Maya stumbled back, her heart racing. She was about to turn and run when a voice echoed softly, chilling her to the bone. 

“Don’t look too long.” 

She spun around, but the hallway was empty. The voice had been low and raspy, like it was right next to her. 

Clutching her phone, she bolted back to her apartment, locking the door behind her. 

---

In the safety of her room, Maya tried to calm herself. She replayed the moment in her head, trying to make sense of it. 

“Don’t look too long.” 

What did it mean? And who—or what—had said it? 

Unable to sleep, Maya sat on her bed, her legs curled up to her chest. She didn’t know what was happening, but she had a sinking feeling that whatever was behind that door was only the beginning.