Warehouse

(Camilla’s POV) I pulled up to the old apartment building, memories flashing back when Cindy and I were still what you call best friends. My heart was pounding as I stepped out of the car. The place is as rundown as I remember—graffiti-streaked walls, broken windows, and the lingering scent of decay hanging in the air. I used to come here whenever Cindy would ask me to. I can't say for sure, but there were times when our friendship felt genuine. She was always there for me. Maybe it was just her waiting for the perfect opportunity to use me. I hesitated at the entrance, taking a deep breath before pushing the creaky door open. The stench hit me first—a rancid blend of mildew and rot. I wrinkled my nose, scanning the dimly lit hallway for any sign of Cindy. But the apartment is empty, save for the scattered debris and the remnants of a life long abandoned. Did she trick me? She said she was coming! My eyes diverted to the kitchen. On the table, among the dust and discarded items, is a s