The Staircase - Entry for the Shadow Contest/SMASh - Round 389

The shadows of the railing fell on the steps like bars of an invisible cell. It was noon, and yet the silence had a strange weight, as if the life around had made a forced pause.

Leonardo stopped at the last step, not daring to go down. It wasn't the first time I had been there, but something was different today. In front of him, the concrete lid, with its rusty handle, looked more like a door than a simple service exit. And the disturbing thing was not the lid itself, but what I had felt a few seconds before: a dry blow, coming from below.

He leaned over a little, hoping to hear something else. Nothing. Only the distant hum of insects and the heat that vibrated in the air. But then he saw it: a slight movement of the metal handle, barely a tremor, as if someone from inside had tried to open the lid.

The sweat ran down his forehead.

"It must be my imagination," he thought, even though his heart was already hammering in his chest. He took a step back, and the shadows on the steps seemed to multiply, catching him.

Again, the blow. This time, stronger, drier, metallic.

Instinct told him to run, but curiosity nailed him to the spot. He approached, with trembling legs, until he was very close to the lid. He leaned over just barely and whispered:

• Is anyone there?

The silence was immediate. Suffocating.

Then, with a rusty squeak, the handle began to move slowly…

And Tomás realized, too late, that it was not he who had found the lid. It was the lid that had been waiting for him.