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A cold breeze brushes against your skin. It's late at night- you shouldn't be outside at this time, your parents would get worried. But what they don't know can't hurt them, can it? No, it cant. But it doesn't matter now, there's no turning back.
Then you see it, approaching in the distance. The shed. It's sealed shut, of course, preventing the wanderers from peeking inside. No windows, either. It's very eerie- you regret not bringing someone to accompany you, though that would mean the risk of the blackmail. Not too many people you can trust these days, your father says.
Then you reach it- a shiver crawls up your spine as you see the words "Please, Do Not" written on one of the boards. Below it are some symbols of some kind, "براہ کرم مت کرو." Having no idea what they mean, you continue anyways, pulling your mother's ax out.
Swing after swing, the boards crack in half, falling to the ground. You pull up your scarf, it's getting colder now. But finally, after smashing the final wooden board to pieces, you stare at the door, dropping the ax. Slowly, you reach out and turn the handle- a beam of dim light comes from the corner of the room.
Your eyes were adjusted to the dark. It looks like a lab of some kind- research station, maybe. Papers littered the floor and machines lined the walls. Broken light bulbs littered the room. After looking around more, you decide to look at where the light is coming from.
A monitor was blinking in the corner of the room. Cautiously, you step over the broken shards of glass and make your way over. Pulling back the chair and sitting in it, you read the screen:
You look around more carefully, turning over the papers and notebooks. You catch a drawing of a wolf, a sword... Whoever this man was really liked to draw on his research papers.
Just as you give up, you catch sight of a note hanging on the back of the computer screen. Frantically, you grab it, flipping it over. It reads, "PASSWORD (in case you forget again): ID-10-T". Seems eerily convenient, but you don't question it. You type the password in.
Sweat beads up on your back. Your hands start shaking. You quickly begin to run, but slip. Regaining your balance, you dash for the door. You knock over papers and tools, pushing against desks to propel yourself further. Finally, your escape the shack, jumping into the snow. Once on your feet, you slam the door shut, putting your back against it. You're hyperventilating. Slowly, you begin to calm yourself, your eyes readjusting to the dark winter night. You're not in danger.
You pick up your mother's ax and begin to head home. It's not a long walk- maybe 10 or 15 minutes. You'll make it home before everyone wakes up, and you'll continue on with your life. Nothing's going to happen, you're completely safe.
You look around. No one's there.
But for some reason, you just can't shake the feeling you're being watched.