The night was quiet and the moon crept lazily between the clouds, casting a pale light on the rusting gate. Sara, Kuba and Michael stood at the overgrown gate, cursing their own curiosity under their breath. The old bunker had been the subject of gossip and drunken stories in the village for years, but none of them had dared to get closer until now. - 'Any way you look at it, we're already here,' whispered Michael, clutching his torch. Sara looked at him with obvious concern. - 'This place looks like something's waiting in it,' she said quietly. Cuba, although pretending to be brave, looked at the rusty sign warning him to enter. He took a deep breath. They pushed open the gate. The metal squeaked so loudly that everyone reflexively froze in stillness, listening to see if anyone - or anything - had heard them. Inside the bunker, deep darkness and coldness reigned. A musty smell mingled with something difficult to identify. - 'Let's go on,' whispered Kuba, illuminating the walls on which strange symbols were painted. The corridor led deeper, underground. The sound of a falling brick made Sara stop as if she were stunned. Michael put his finger to his lips, commanding silence. A long shadow emerged from the gloom and a door with a reel lock appeared before them. Sara bent down and noticed footprints on the floor.... They looked fresh. - It can't be... - she whispered. Cuba was already reaching out to turn the rusty mechanism when something squeaked behind their backs. Their hearts beat harder. Someone was in there with them. Or something...