It was a small, black-and-white photograph of a young man in his early twenties, laughing as he leaned against a vintage pickup truck. Larry stared at the face, and a cold shiver ran straight down his spine.
The young man in the 80-year-old picture wasn’t a stranger. He had the exact same sharp jawline, the same distinct, confident smirk, and the same intense eyes as Larry’s best friend, Mark. It was an impossible, terrifying resemblance. It looked exactly as though Mark had put on vintage clothing, stepped into a time machine, and posed for a black-and-white photo before burying it in a secret room.
Thoroughly creeped out and looking visibly pale, Larry shoved the wallet into a bag and drove straight over to Mark’s apartment. He burst through his friend's front door, holding the bag out like it contained unexploded ordnance. “Mark, you need to look at this right now,” Larry panted, throwing the bag onto the kitchen counter. “I found something insane buried deep inside a secret room in my wall. I accidentally broke an old jar, and the house practically buzzed to life to show it to me.”