Chapter 3: Into the shadows

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Pete stared at the message, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it. Andy and Joe leaned over his shoulder, reading the words again, as if a second look would somehow reveal more.

“This is insane,” Andy muttered. “Who could’ve sent that? And why?”

“We can’t just sit here. Patrick’s out there somewhere, and he’s counting on us,” Pete said, determination tightening his voice.

The three bandmates agreed: they’d keep looking for Patrick, no matter what mysterious warnings they received. They moved deeper into the winding streets of downtown, each corner and alleyway carrying a growing sense of dread. Streetlights flickered, casting strange shadows on the pavement, and the once-familiar city took on an almost unrecognizable quality in the dim light.

They stopped at a few places where Patrick might have asked around, hoping someone remembered seeing him. Finally, a vendor near a closed bookstore recalled Patrick passing by earlier in the evening, asking about a strange leather bag. But after that, no one else had seen him.

The band’s frustration grew with every dead end, but their determination only solidified. Pete felt an intense sense of responsibility for his friend—he was the one who had spotted the bag, the one who had suggested looking for its owner in the first place. And now, that decision had somehow led to Patrick’s disappearance.

“Let’s check the old train station,” Joe suggested. “It’s not too far, and it’s a place he’d know well. Maybe he ended up there.”

The group made their way toward the train station, an old building that had long since been shut down. A place with its own stories, known for its shadowy corners and lingering whispers of the past. The structure loomed ahead, its windows dark and empty, almost as if it were waiting for them.

They stepped inside, the silence thick and stifling, broken only by the echo of their footsteps. Dust hung in the air, catching the faint light that filtered through cracked windows. As they wandered through the empty station, they called Patrick’s name, their voices carrying through the empty space.

“Patrick! You in here?” Pete’s voice echoed, but there was no response.

Just when they were about to give up and leave, Andy spotted something in the far corner of the station. It was a single piece of paper lying on the ground. He picked it up and quickly scanned the scribbled handwriting. It was a note, signed with Patrick’s name:

"I’ve found something... something strange. I don’t know who to trust, and I don’t know who’s watching. If you’re reading this, please be careful. This is bigger than us."

The note trailed off, as if Patrick had written it in a hurry, his thoughts interrupted by something—or someone.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Joe said, reading over Andy’s shoulder. “Why would Patrick be hiding? And what did he mean by ‘bigger than us’?”

Pete clenched his fists, fighting the sense of unease creeping over him. Whatever Patrick had discovered, it had led him into some kind of trouble. And now, it was up to them to unravel the mystery and bring him back—before it was too late.

As they turned to leave, the faintest sound of footsteps echoed from deeper within the station, somewhere in the shadows behind them. The band froze, tension prickling at their skin.

“Did you hear that?” whispered Andy.

The footsteps stopped. Silence hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. Whoever—or whatever—was in there with them had no intention of being seen.

The search for Patrick had just taken a darker, more dangerous turn.

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