The old brick building stood at the edge of town, its windows boarded up and its front door creaking in the wind like a tired sigh. No one knew exactly when it had been abandoned, but the locals whispered that it had once been a school, though no records could confirm it. The town council had tried to tear it down years ago, but every time they sent in workers, something strange happened—tools went missing, lights flickered without cause, and the workers left early, muttering about "feeling watched." Eventually, the project was canceled, and the building was left to decay. One spring morning, a young woman named Elara wandered past the structure on her way to the market. She had recently moved to the town and found herself drawn to the place, not out of fear, but curiosity. The building seemed to call to her, as if it were waiting for someone to come inside. She hesitated, then pushed open the rusted gate with a groan. The air smelled of damp wood and forgotten time. Inside, the silence was thick, pressing against her ears. Dust motes swirled in the shafts of light that managed to pierce through the broken windows. The floorboards creaked under her weight as she stepped cautiously into what had once been a classroom. Desks sat in neat rows, their surfaces covered in peeling paint and faded chalk marks. A clock on the wall still ticked, though it hadn’t kept time for decades. Elara ran her fingers over the wooden desk, feeling the grooves carved by generations of students. As she explored deeper, she noticed something unusual. The walls had a peculiar texture, as if they were made of something other than brick. When she pressed her hand against it, it felt warm, almost alive. She turned around and saw a small door at the back of the room, hidden behind a curtain. It wasn’t there before, or so she thought. The door was slightly ajar, and from the crack, a faint blue glow seeped out. Elara hesitated, then stepped through. The room beyond was smaller, dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were lined with shelves, each filled with books bound in leather and covered in dust. In the center of the room stood a table, and on it, a single candle burned. The flame was steady, unshaken by any breeze. She reached for a book, but as her fingers brushed the cover, the candle extinguished. The room plunged into darkness, and a cold wind swept through the space, though the doors were all closed. Elara’s breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself to stay calm. Slowly, she pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. The beam revealed more books, more shelves, and a mirror on the far wall. Her reflection stared back, but something was off—the eyes in the mirror didn’t match hers. A whisper echoed through the room, soft and distant, like a memory trying to surface. Elara turned, expecting to see someone, but the room was empty. She backed toward the door, heart pounding, and as she stepped through, the door slammed shut behind her. She rattled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Outside, the world had changed. The sun was now setting, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The building looked different—darker, older. Elara pressed her hands against the door, calling out, but no one answered. She tried to remember the way she came, but the hallways twisted into unfamiliar shapes, leading her deeper into the maze. Hours passed, or maybe only minutes. Time felt unreliable here. She stumbled upon a staircase, and as she climbed, she heard voices—murmurs in a language she didn’t understand, yet somehow recognized. At the top, she found a window that led to the roof. She climbed out, breathless, and looked down at the town below. It was quiet, too quiet. No people, no sounds of life. Then she saw them. Figures moving in the streets, their faces obscured, their movements slow and deliberate. They didn’t seem to notice her, but she knew they were watching. She turned back toward the building, but the entrance had vanished. In its place was a tall iron fence, and beyond it, the forest loomed dark and endless. Elara sat on the rooftop, clutching her knees, staring into the distance. She didn’t know if she would ever find her way out, or if she even wanted to. The building had taken something from her, something she couldn’t name. But as the stars blinked into the sky, she wondered if the building had always been waiting for someone like her—not to escape, but to understand.