Jacobb Schumacher
Per. 1
I stepped into the dense, dusty room and I looked around. The dull yellow paint was
peeling off the walls in strips and bubbles exposing the grayish wall beneath. The
battered, deep brown wood floors were stained in several with rust-colored smears. They
looked like old blood. Dust webs floated in the air, attached to the ceiling and fixtures
somewhere in the silent shadows above my head. There was another door on the other
side of the room, cracked open a few inchers with noises on the other side. All thought I
couldn’t what was beyond it