Each step creaked, the sound echoing too loudly in the confined space. The air smelt of dust and damp, old stone and neglect. This place had been forgotten on purpose.
Halfway down, something brushed her shoulder.
Beth yelped, flailing, then laughed shakily when nothing attacked her.
A cobweb. Of course.
At the bottom, crates and boxes loomed in untidy stacks, their contents surrendered to time. Broken stools. Old signage. Bottles whose labels had long since peeled away.
Then she saw it.
The shape beneath the tarpaulin didn’t belong to the rest of the clutter. It had presence. Bulk. Intention.
Beth’s pulse quickened. She hesitated, then reached out and tugged the tarp free.
Dust erupted. She sneezed violently, eyes watering, heart racing, then froze.
A pinball machine.
Not plastic. Not garish. Ornate and heavy, with brass trim dulled by age. Sapphire and gold paint curled across the cabinet, the artwork rich and elaborate. On the back glass, a genie reclined on a flying carpet, arms folded, lips curved in a knowing smile.
The Wish Master.
Beth stepped closer. ‘I haven’t played one of these in years,’ she whispered.
A memory slammed into her. She and Luke in a friend’s basement, laughing as they battled it out on vintage machines. Her unexpected talent. His mock outrage when she beat him again.
‘I won every time,’ she murmured, smiling despite herself.
She crouched, tracing the edge of the cabinet. The wood felt cool. Solid. Real.
‘You probably don’t even work,’ she said, oddly disappointed.
Still, she searched for a cable. Found one, old but intact, trailing uselessly along the floor. No socket nearby.
Beth straightened, brushing dust from her hands. ‘Just a stupid machine,’ she told herself.
Then, because she was tired and human and apparently incapable of leaving things alone, she pressed the start button.
Nothing.
She exhaled, half relieved.
‘See?’ she said to the empty room. ‘Dead as a doornail.’
She turned away.
Then she turned back and pressed the start button again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
Beth huffed. ‘Figures. Even imaginary magic needs the right conditions.’
Suddenly she was aware of how quiet the room had become – the sort of silence that felt expectant rather than empty.
Not yet,something in her seemed to say.Soon. But not yet.
The thought unsettled her more than the darkness. She headed for the steps.
