Sarah descended the wooden stairs, each step complaining under her weight. Mark followed closely behind, wielding a heavy torch. The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the dusty concrete floor and the stacks of boxes they hadn’t yet moved. In the furthest, darkest corner of the crawlspace, they finally spotted a flash of fur. Luna was backed into a corner, her body pressed against a section of the brick foundation that looked strangely newer than the rest of the wall.
She wasn’t just staring anymore; she was actively hissing at the masonry. As Sarah knelt down to grab her, she felt a strange sensation in her teeth—a low-frequency hum that seemed to be emanating from the wall itself. The bricks felt warm to the touch, which made no sense in a damp, unheated basement. It was then they noticed a faint, green-tinged stain weeping through the mortar, glowing ever so slightly in the dark.