She nearly missed the door entirely, memories were tainted by her childhood self’s diminutive size. What once took her one-hundred paces to reach, now required forty. Ivy had grown over this part of the wall, which worked well for keeping secrets from the past hidden.
Clara reached through the Ivy and snapped off an old sign. While badly corroded, the sign read: Condemned. No trespassing.
A smile crept over those soft lips. She confirmed that there was no one nearby and reached through the Ivy once more. This time Clara grabbed an iron handle and pulled. The door did not budge; the hinges seized from years of corrosion. However, with some persuasion, the handle tore off entirely, leaving a void in its place.
“Well, that’s progress,” Clara grumbled.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from The Van Helsing Impetus is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. The image is sourced from Pixabay.