The side door of the van slid open with a rattle. Out jumped a group of teenagers, laughing and whispering among themselves, carrying flashlights and backpacks.

Leading the group was Derek, the self-appointed leader, with his baseball cap turned backwards, a cocky grin on his face.

"Alright, listen up," Derek said, adjusting the strap on his bag. "We get in, we film everything, we grab anything cool, and we’re out. Easy."

Next to him was Johnathan, a quieter kid with shaggy hair, holding a camcorder in his hands, already recording. He kept glancing at the dark building nervously.

"I don’t know, man," Johnathan muttered, zooming in on the boarded-up windows. "Place looks... wrong."

Derek clapped him on the back.

"That's the point! Think about it — we catch something creepy on camera, boom, instant fame. We’ll be legends."

Two more teens, Mia and Eric, followed behind, carrying crowbars and bolt cutters. They worked quickly, snipping through the chain around the back door. The heavy metal door creaked open, revealing only darkness inside.

"Let’s go," Derek said, stepping inside first.

The others hesitated for a second before following him, Johnathan recording every step. The camcorder caught glimpses of the old dining room — abandoned party hats, ripped posters of FoxBon and his friends, dusty tables still set up as if expecting guests who never arrived.

As they moved deeper inside, their flashlight beams danced across the broken arcade machines and the stage where the animatronics stood.

FoxBon, Rosie, and Rocky.

Frozen. Watching. Waiting.

Derek laughed. "Man, they’re creepier up close! Look at this one!" He climbed up on the stage and tapped FoxBon’s nose mockingly.

Johnathan zoomed in with the camera, the night vision picking up tiny, almost imperceptible movements from the animatronics — twitches in their fingers, slight shifts of their heads — too small to notice in the moment, but clearly visible on tape.

Derek bolted toward the prize counter, grinning like a kid in a candy store. He hopped over the counter with a loud thud, sending a few empty ticket baskets crashing to the ground. Dust flew up in a cloud around him.

"Alright, let's see..." Derek muttered, scanning the shelves with his flashlight. Most of the prizes were cheap — bouncy balls, fake plastic swords, old plushies of Rosie and Rocky — but higher up on the wall were a few bigger prizes that cost thousands of tickets.

A gleaming golden FoxBon mask.

A remote-controlled King Cobra robot.

And — locked behind glass — something strange: a black keycard labeled only with the word "Authorized Access."

Derek’s eyes lit up.

"Bingo," he said, stuffing as many rare prizes as he could into his backpack.

Meanwhile, Johnathan, Mia, and Eric had moved down the main hallway, their footsteps echoing eerily against the stained floors. The dim emergency lights flickered, casting long shadows that stretched and warped across the walls.

At the split in the hall, they paused.

To the left: Lazer Tag Arena, its entrance decorated with neon stars and the slogan: "Battle the Bots!"

To the right: Arcade Alley, a cramped corridor filled with dead arcade cabinets and claw machines still clutching dusty prizes inside.

"Where should we go first?" Mia whispered.

"Let's check Lazer Tag," Eric suggested, his voice low. "Maybe there’s something cool back there."

Johnathan hesitated, glancing into Arcade Alley. For a moment, he thought he saw movement between the machines — a tall, shadowy figure slipping out of view.

He shook it off.

Just my nerves... he told himself, gripping the camcorder tighter.

The group turned left and headed into the Lazer Tag Arena.

Eric chuckled nervously, lowering his flashlight.

He turned back toward the lobby — but the glass doors were shut.

And locked.

Through the doors, Mia and Johnathan were laughing, tapping on the glass. Mia mimicked Eric’s scream dramatically, clutching her sides from laughing too hard.

"Guys! Come on, not cool!" Eric shouted, rattling the handle.

"Let me out!"

Johnathan lowered the camcorder slightly, but kept it rolling.

"Relax, dude! We’ll let you out in a minute!" Mia said between laughs. "Go explore, make it interesting!"

Eric clenched his jaw. His face flushed red with anger and embarrassment.

"Fine," he growled. "I’ll find my own way out. You’ll see."

With one last glare at his so-called friends, Eric spun around and stormed deeper into the Lazer Tag Arena.

The blacklit murals cast ghostly images over the maze of walls and plastic barriers. His flashlight barely cut through the thick darkness, creating long, reaching shadows.

Behind him, back in the lobby, Johnathan kept recording. Through the camcorder’s viewfinder, he could see Eric’s silhouette moving through the arena — and something else.

A second silhouette.

Larger.

Limping slightly.

Following Eric through the maze.

Johnathan lowered the camera, blinking.

When he looked with his own eyes, there was nothing there.

When he looked through the camera again... the second figure was closer.

He swallowed hard, suddenly not laughing anymore.

"Mia..." he said under his breath. "We should probably let him back in."

But Mia had already moved toward the arcade entrance, curious about what else they could find.

Alone in the lobby now, Johnathan stared into the dark maze of the Lazer Tag Arena, feeling the weight of the camcorder in his hands... and the creeping feeling that someone, or something, was watching them all.