For a moment she thought it was Altagracia, but it wasn’t the cold, distant voice of a spirit. This voice was warm, afraid, and very close by.

This wasn’t Altagracia. This was her. Maria’s own instincts, telling her she should get out of this place.

But she had to find out what was coming. This was her only chance to get answers.

Maria couldn’t let fear control her. She’d done so much already. She’d go as far as she had to.

She pulled the handle. It moved easily, just like the front door. Too easily for something that hadn’t been opened in centuries. Behind the door was nothing but heat, darkness, the smell of old smoke, and that overpowering fear.

Maria held her phone light toward the opening, but all she could see was swirling dust. She hesitated only long enough to drop her shoes on the dirty floor and slide the phone back into her pocket before she swung one leg over the side. When nothing happened, she slid her other leg in, until she was sitting on the edge of the hole.

The humming feeling was louder than ever. It called for Maria to drop all the way in.

She hesitated.

Even if that story about the secret passage was only a school legend, this had to at least be some sort of storage room, or a priest’s quarters, didn’t it? People must’ve been able to get in and out of it when the church was built. Surely the hole was shallow enough that she could jump in and land on her feet.

But what if it wasn’t? What if Maria fell and broke her neck? No one would ever find her here. She’d starve to death while she waited.

She swung one foot in a slow circle, exploring the surroundings as best she could. Then she felt it. A hard, smooth surface to her left side. An earth wall with a depression in it. She slid her foot down farther and felt another depression, and another.

A ladder, carved into the wall.

Maria angled her body toward it and slid down, her toes getting a firm grip on the ladder’s rungs. As she descended, it got darker and darker and hotter and hotter until the soles of her feet struck something hard and rough. A very old wooden floor. It was free of dirt, but something crunched under her heel. The floor was covered in tiny, jagged pebbles and sticks. Thousands of them, reaching all the way to the walls on either side.

Maria didn’t bother to turn on her phone here. The air was heavy with stale heat, dust, a lingering smell of smoke, and something else. Something thicker. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

There was a faint light coming from somewhere far away. The end of the tunnel, maybe. Maria wondered if the sun had risen.