" The metal door began to roll open as she held her breath. Its parts creaked like the bones of a giant roused from his slumber, like a Lazarus that had hidden his flaming heart within fireproof walls, patiently sleeping as the comatose do.

The smell hit her first. Mold. Dampness. Cold lifeless things.

Within, there was a darker sort of silence, as if the building had been holding its breath for so long it had forgotten how to breathe. "

― Angela Panayotopulos , The Wake Up