I wake up in the middle of an abandoned building. The sun is streaming through the broken windows, lighting up the cracked stone walls and floors. Even though the place looks like it's been abandoned for years, there are still pieces of broken glass and bits of fabric on the floor. Walking over to one of the windows, I look out against the sun and see that I am in the middle of a forest. Despite being in the middle of nowhere, I am at peace looking out over the canopy of trees, birds flying high above, and others diving in and out.

Looking down, I find I'm on the second floor. Ivy creeps its way up from the ground. It covers the entire building, allowing it to blend in with the surrounding forest, hiding it from view despite the large clearing around the base. Turning around, I see a stairway in the farthest corner that I presume leads to the next floor down. As I start to make my way toward and down the stairs, it feels as if I'm floating, gliding, my feet not touching a single step. However, gravity sends me crashing back down when I reach the bottom, making my knees buckle. I catch myself before it's too late, barely avoiding glass that is scattered around here too.

The first floor is the same as the one above it, but here the ivy covers every window, blocking out almost all light. Any light that does stream in is provided by what I assume was the front door at one point but is now just an opening that is becoming subject to the ivy as well. I start to walk toward the door to get a glimpse of the surrounding area, but I'm stopped in my tracks halfway to the exit. I feel this weird tugging on my shirt, telling me to turn around, to find out where this pull is coming from.

Against my brain telling me to ignore it, my body moves on its own, turning to face a small doorway. It's quite noticeable, actually, probably one of the first things you would see if you were to walk in. My feet seem to move on their own, and against my brain screaming at me to leave, I walk through the doorway into a stairwell without an ounce of light. I start down the stairs, gravity keeping me in place, unlike last time. Despite the pitch black, as I reach the end of the stairs, I can see everything from the old, broken crates to the three bare metal shelves covered in rust. That's when I hear the scratching.

Now back in control, instead of running for the door, I keep walking forward, wanting to find the source of the sound, scared out of my mind yet completely calm. Hearing it again, I cautiously walk toward one of the larger crates in the corner. Moving it aside, a rat scurries away, freaking me out because it's a rat but also giving me a sense of relief for the same reason, and it wasn't anything bigger. However, behind the crate was about a 3-foot by 3-foot square opening, leading into a small nook about 5-foot by 5-foot. Inside, I see some type of carving on the smooth concrete wall. As I get closer, it looks a little like a pocket watch, but it doesn't have hands or a face, just a small sun in the center. I reach out to touch it, but just as my fingers brush against the carving, I'm plunged into darkness and sleep.