You move over to stand in front of the door, fingers itching to trace the letters on the sign.
Werekin. What does it mean? The first part of the word is the past tense of ‘are’, but you’re pretty sure that this isn’t some obscure grammatical reference. Maybe this is the room of has-beens, of things that were. It’s as logical an explanation as any other.
You take hold of the door handle, determined. You have nothing to fear of the past.
You twist the handle and push open the door, hard, using more force than necessary. The door swings open, and slams against the wall with a resounding crash. You have to hold out your hand so it doesn’t bounce back into your face.
The noise has made you jumpy. You look up and down the hallway, but there are no other signs of movement. Then, with a deep breath, you walk into the room.
To your disappointment, the room is empty, and bare. The floor is plain concrete, and the walls are peeling paint. The only furniture in the room is a large wooden table, set right in the middle, with five chairs scattered loosely around it.
No monsters, no souvenirs, and no relics of the past. The room is a waste of space.
What do you do?