The place was exactly where Greg said it would be. It was a short distance away from the gym on an old dirt path, hidden behind some old trees.
The building itself looked tired, like it had been sleeping for years. Its wood siding was faded and weathered by time, with vines creeping up along one side and paint peeling from the shutters. A wide porch stretched across the front, the kind that might've once been filled with chairs and laughter. Now it just groaned beneath their feet as they stepped onto it.
Greg reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. "Doors might stick a little," he warned, fumbling through the set until he found the right one.
With a hard push and a loud creak, the front door swung open. A gust of dust and stale air greeted them.
