Every picture sent a chill through Daniel’s body. None of the children were smiling. Their expressions were empty, fearful. And in the corner of each photograph stood the same man—tall, thin, dressed in a dark suit and hat. His face was always turned slightly away from the lens, but somehow, Daniel could feel him watching. The air felt colder the longer they stayed down there.

Mark urged him to leave, but Daniel’s curiosity only grew stronger. He searched around the room and found a small, leather-bound notebook beneath the table. Most of the writing was smeared or faded, but one line was still legible:

“…the children… the experiments… keep them quiet…”
Daniel dropped the book as a shiver ran through him. Something about the word experiments made his stomach twist.

Then, he noticed something else. Near the floor, scratched deep into the concrete, were the initials E.M. and the date 1952. He whispered them out loud, unaware that those letters would soon reveal the horrifying truth behind his house.