A pragmatic approach is always the best idea when dealing with a situation you can't possibly control. The best plan is to move with caution but adapt on the fly. You caution the others to keep quiet and low to the ground before heading into the warehouse.
The four of you emerge into a large room, partitioned off from the rest of the building by corrugated metal walls. The room is filled with piles of scrap metal in varying states of disrepair, most of it covered with rust. Not a promising start.
Crouched behind one of the piles, you discover a narrow hallway leading down along the length of the warehouse. Waving the others forward, you travel through the side passage for several minutes before you hear something that sounds disturbingly like a moan of pain.
Tiva elbows you. "Why'd you stop?"
"Listen," you say, and she cocks an ear, grimacing at what she overhears.
"I don't like the sound of it," she says, "but we can't stop now. I need to know what's going on in here."
Dena whimpers from the back as you start moving again. This time, you're more cautious, your movements deliberate while keeping to the pads of your feet.
Eventually the corridor's wall disappears, replaced by a large rectangular opening at chest level, which might once have been a window before the walls of the warehouse were expanded. Crawling underneath the gap, the four of you hear a cacophony of strange and terrible sounds that will haunt your dreams for years to come. If you live that long, that is.
You have to know, and it appears that you're not alone. As one, the four of you slowly raise your eyes to the window.
Next