Chapter 15 - Secrets beneath the Mill

The night was cold, a thin mist curling around the trees as Tristan, Derek, and Matthew trudged through the overgrown path leading to the old mill. The building loomed in the darkness, its towering frame silhouetted against the moonlit sky. A hollow wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, making the structure groan as if whispering secrets of the past. 

Derek exhaled sharply. "This place is straight out of a horror movie." 

"Yeah, well, let's hope we make it to the credits," Matthew muttered, gripping his flashlight. 

Tristan's pulse pounded as they approached the entrance. He had been here before—years ago, as a child, on a school dare. But it had been different then, just an abandoned mill with creaky stairs and dust-coated floors. Now, it was something more. The letter had led them here, the strange symbols tugging at his subconscious like a half-forgotten dream. 

Pushing open the rusted door, the three boys stepped inside. The air smelled of damp wood and decay, thick with dust that swirled in their flashlight beams. Tristan ran his hand over the walls, his fingers grazing the old, peeling paint. 

"We're looking for a hidden entrance," he murmured. 

Matthew snorted. "Right. Because hidden passages in old mills are super common." 

Derek ignored him, sweeping his light across the floorboards. "If I were hiding something, I wouldn't put it in plain sight." 

Minutes passed as they searched, overturning rotting planks, moving discarded crates, and feeling along the walls for any hint of a hidden mechanism. Just when frustration began to set in, Tristan's foot caught on something. A faint hollow sound echoed beneath him. 

He froze. "Guys… I think I found something." 

Derek and Matthew hurried over. Tristan knelt, brushing away layers of dirt and grime, revealing a rusted metal handle embedded in the floor. Exchanging a glance, Derek reached down and yanked it open. 

A hidden hatch. 

A ladder led down into inky darkness. Cold air seeped up, carrying the scent of damp earth. The three boys hesitated. 

Matthew swallowed. "This is either the coolest or the dumbest thing we've ever done." 

Derek grinned. "Probably both." 

With a deep breath, they descended, one by one, their flashlights barely piercing the thick gloom. At the bottom, the air was thick with moisture, and the walls were made of rough-hewn stone. 

And then, they saw it. 

A narrow tunnel stretched forward, its walls marked with faint carvings. The deeper they moved, the more the symbols appeared—etched into the rock, some nearly worn away by time. 

"Holy shit," Derek whispered. "These are the same symbols from the letter." 

Tristan's breath caught in his throat. The markings were eerily familiar—the jagged lines, the circular patterns. It was as if the cave had been waiting for them. 

Their footsteps echoed as they moved deeper, the air growing colder. The tunnel widened into a cavern, the ceiling lost in darkness. At the center stood a towering stone archway, its surface covered in symbols that pulsed faintly, as if alive. 

And then, Tristan felt it. 

An invisible force, like an unseen hand pressing against his chest. 

He stumbled back, his breath hitching. 

"What the—" Matthew started, but Tristan raised a shaking hand. 

"I—I can't move forward," he gasped. 

Derek frowned. "What do you mean?" 

Tristan took a step forward, only to feel the pressure intensify. It wasn't just resistance—it was something ancient, something deliberate, stopping him. 

Matthew waved a hand in front of the archway. Nothing happened. Then, he stepped through without hesitation. 

"Uh… okay, that's weird," he muttered, looking back. 

Derek followed. Nothing. 

But when Tristan tried again, the force pushed harder, like an invisible wall barring his way. 

"This doesn't make sense," Derek murmured. "Why just you?" 

Tristan's hands clenched into fists. His heart pounded, a mixture of frustration and unease twisting in his gut. 

"Maybe it has to do with my family," he said slowly. "My grandfather, the deal… maybe whatever's down there, it doesn't want me here." 

Silence hung between them. 

Matthew turned his flashlight toward the cavern walls. "Well, we're already here. Might as well see what we can find." 

He and Derek pressed forward, leaving Tristan standing at the threshold, watching as his friends disappeared into the shadows. 

Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. Tristan's mind raced. Why was he being kept out? What had his grandfather done? 

Finally, the boys returned, their faces pale. 

"You're gonna want to see this," Derek said. 

Matthew held out his phone, the flashlight illuminating the screen as he scrolled through pictures of the cave's interior. Drawings. Hundreds of them. Strange, ancient depictions of figures standing beneath the same archway, some marked with the very same symbol from the letter. 

But the last image sent a chill down Tristan's spine. 

It was a carving of a man standing outside the archway. Alone. 

Kept out. 

Just like him. 

Derek exhaled. "Whatever this is, Tristan… it's been happening for a long time." 

The weight of the discovery settled over them. The night had grown darker, the air thick with an ominous stillness. 

"We should go," Tristan murmured. "It's late." 

No one argued. 

As they climbed out of the tunnel and sealed the hatch behind them, the mystery of the cave lingered in their minds. They had found something buried in time—something connected to Tristan's family. 

But they were no closer to understanding it. 

And Tristan couldn't shake the feeling that whatever force had kept him out… 

It wasn't done with him yet.