The black liquid slowly came out from the cracked wall.
It was not water.
It was something darker.
Something alive.
Arman did not move.
The girl with empty eyes stood behind him silently.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
Arman nodded.
"Yes."
The woman's voice laughed from the darkness.
"You are opening your own grave."
Arman pressed harder on the wall.
The black liquid touched his hands.
It was warm.
Like human blood.
The child's voice spoke happily,
"Brother… I am awake now."
Suddenly, the basement started shaking.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
The red glowing eyes disappeared completely.
The girl whispered,
"If you open it, you will remember the last promise."
Arman said quietly,
"I know."
The wall cracked loudly.
Bang!
A small metal door appeared inside the broken stone.
Old and rusty.
Covered with dried blood.
The clock outside struck one fifteen.
And from inside the metal door, someone whispered,
"Welcome home."