POV (Sam ) :
Sam had always believed in two important rules of the universe.
One: if something was truly dangerous, it would at least look dangerous.
Two: if it didn't look dangerous, it was probably just weird and weird things could be joked into submission.
This belief system he always relied on was currently under a great deal of strain.
Sam lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of his desk fan and wondering if buildings could follow people home.
He checked his phone again.
Still working. No static. No ominous messages. Thank God atleast he didn't need to beg his mom for a new phone. A text from Lena came that read:
"if i disappear tell my mom i died cool."
Sam typed back:
"Rude. Atleast leave me your shoes."
He tossed the phone aside and rolled onto his stomach. The ceiling fan above him creaked once, then twice.
"Don't," Sam warned it. "I'm already emotionally fragile today."
The fan ignored him.
His room looked normal. Posters on the walls of John cena and Superman. He really wish he could be like John cena so that no one could see him . A pile of clothes that technically counted as clean if you squinted. A half-finished model spaceship on his desk that he'd abandoned when the instructions stopped making sense around Step Twelve.
Everything was fine.
Which was suspicious.
Sam flopped onto his back again. "You're not real," he said to the ceiling. "You're just a building with commitment issues."
The ceiling, disappointingly, did not respond.
Dinner was worse.
His mom noticed things. Not in a supernatural way—just in a parent way, which was somehow more terrifying.
"You're quiet," she said, sliding a plate of pasta in front of him.
"I'm always quiet," Sam said.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Okay," he amended. "I'm selectively quiet."
She studied him for a moment. "Did something happen today?"
Sam considered his options.
Option one: We found a building that doesn't exist and it knows my friends' faces.
Option two: School was weird.
He went with option two.
She nodded, satisfied. "Last day always is."
Sam twirled his fork. The pasta tasted normal. That helped. If reality was unraveling, at least it was doing so politely.
"Hey," his mom said casually, "do you remember the old civic building near the service road?"
Sam froze.
The fork clattered against the plate.
"What building?" he asked, a little too fast.
She frowned. "You know. The one they tore down years ago. I drove past there today. Could've sworn something was back."
Sam's mouth felt dry.
"They didn't tear anything down," he said.
She waved a hand. "Maybe I'm mixing it up with something else."
Yeah, Sam thought. Maybe.
He laughed, because that was what he did when fear knocked politely on the door. "Town's probably just bored."
She smiled. "Aren't we all?"
That night, Sam dreamed of hallways.
Not scary ones. Just… endless.
Every door had his name on it.
In the dream, he never opened them.
He woke up sweating anyway.
These are the times he hoped he could dream of hot ladies not weird hallways.
---
The next day, the group met at the convenience store, which Sam had decided was now a sacred ground. Nothing supernatural ever happened there. Only bad snacks and questionable decisions.
Alex was already there, arms crossed, scanning the street like the building might sprint at them on concrete legs.
Jordan stood beside him, typing furiously into his phone.
"This place has Wi-Fi," Sam said cheerfully. "Which means it's blessed."
Lena shoved a slushie into his hand. "You look like you fought a demon and lost."
"I fought a dream," Sam said. "It cheated."
Maya arrived quietly, sketchbook tucked under her arm. Riley followed, hood up despite the heat.
They clustered together near the bike rack.
"No one followed you, right?" Sam asked.
Alex gave him a look. "The building doesn't have legs."
"That we know of," Sam replied.
Jordan finally looked up. "I ran historical records. City plans. Satellite imagery."
"And?" Lena prompted.
"And there is no record of any structure on that road. Ever."
Sam grinned. "See? Totally normal."
Jordan continued. "Except there's a gap. Like something was… removed."
Riley frowned. "Removed how?"
"Not demolished," Jordan said. "Erased."
Sam laughed. It came out too loud. "Love that. Huge fan of erasure."
Maya hesitated. "I think it shows different things to different people."
Everyone looked at her.
Sam raised his hands. "Okay, see, when she says that, it sounds wise. When I say it, everyone panics.Really sexist guys."
Alex rubbed his neck. "We need rules."
Sam perked up. "I love rules. Especially ignoring them."
"No going alone," Alex said. "No touching things. And if anything changes—anything—we talk about it."
Sam saluted. "Captain Responsible."
They mounted their bikes, riding toward the river again.
Sam tried not to look toward the service road.
He failed.
The building was there.
Still.
It looked the same. Mostly.
Except the sign above the entrance was clearer now.
Not readable—but sharper. Like it was coming into focus.
Sam slowed.
"Guys," he said.
They followed his gaze.
Lena groaned softly. "It looks… happier."
Sam swallowed. "That's not a thing buildings should look."
They didn't go inside.
They just stood there, staring.
Sam cracked a grin, because if he didn't, the fear might decide to move in permanently.
"Well," he said, "good news. It didn't eat us."
Alex didn't smile back. "Yet."
As they turned away, Sam felt something brush past him—like a thought that wasn't his.
A whisper, right at the edge of hearing.
*Youjokebecauseyoustay.*
Sam's grin faltered.
He didn't tell the others.
Somehow, he knew—
This building wasn't interested in people who ran.
And that realization scared him more than anything else so far.
---