((This is a work of fiction, a story written by Austin Mitchell and should not be considered real. Do not go searching for the tunnel. It does not exist.))
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the quad of Woodcrest University. Liam O’Connell, ever the athlete, wound up to throw a frisbee. His friend, Noah Petrocelli, and Chloe Davies, Liam’s girlfriend, stood ready to catch. Maya Rodriguez, Chloe’s lifelong friend, sat nearby watching. Liam launched the bright red frisbee, and Noah snagged it with a triumphant grin. When Noah flung the disc back, he misjudged the distance and the slight trailing wind, sending the frisbee spiraling into the dense line of trees that bordered the lawn.
“Whoops,” Noah chuckled sheepishly. “I guess my throwing arm’s a little… enthusiastic.”
Liam sighed good-naturedly. “No worries. I’ll grab it,” he replied as he jogged toward the woods.
A few moments later, Liam’s voice echoed back, tinged with surprise. “Hey, guys! You might want to see this. I found the frisbee… and something else.”
Chloe, Noah, and Maya quickly ran into the trees, where they found Liam near a tangle of overgrown vines, pointing at the ground. The uneven terrain was thick with underbrush. Beneath some rotting wooden planks and ivy lay a dark, rectangular opening leading into shadow.
“What in the world‽” Noah clamored, his usual levity replaced by a sense of the unexpected.
“Looks like some kind of entrance,” Liam replied.
Maya gazed into the darkness, noting, “It feels forgotten.”
Noah pulled away some of the rotted boards. The damp and still air emanating from the opening carried the faint scent of mildew and aged earth.
“Think we can get in?” Chloe asked.
Noah peered into the gloom. “It’s probably guarded by ancient tunnel trolls.” Chloe giggled, and even Maya let out a soft chuckle.
Liam spotted a fallen branch nearby. He pried at a larger section of the rotted frame. With a groan of protesting wood, the opening widened enough to descend into the passage.
“Careful,” Liam warned as he pulled out his phone, its screen illuminating the narrow space. Chloe and Noah followed suit, directing their phone lights through the oppressive darkness. Maya brought up the rear, her senses heightened.
They found themselves in a low-ceiling tunnel, the brick walls showing signs of neglect and decay. Rusty pipes ran along the ceiling, remnants of an old heating system. This was clearly not a natural cave.
“Definitely old boiler tunnels,” Liam murmured, his light catching a crumbling section of brickwork.
They moved cautiously through the tunnel, which ended in a pile of rubble and collapsed bricks. A wooden door was set into the tunnel wall to their left. It looked much older than the boiler tunnel, made of dark, unadorned wood with heavy iron hinges. Noah tried the handle, quipping, “Locked tighter than a dragon’s hoard. Guess my charm spell didn’t work.” Chloe chuckled at his remark.
Liam stepped forward and pushed the door firmly. The latch gave way, and the door swung open. As they cautiously entered the doorway, their phone lights suddenly illuminated something ahead, causing them to stop. A collective gasp escaped their lips.