Safe House

A cramped, temporary shelter hastily converted from a storage unit or small residential space. Plywood partitions divide the area into makeshift rooms, their seams revealing gaps where cold air seeps through. A single flickering fluorescent light casts uneven shadows across exposed brick walls lined with peeling insulation. The space reeks of mildewed cardboard and stale coffee, the lingering scent of hurried occupation. A rough-hewn wooden table serves as the only workspace, cluttered with detonation timers and scattered notes scribbled in haste. Manacles hang from exposed piping near the door, their chains clattering softly as they sway in the draft. When activated, the explosive payload wired into the structure’s frame sends tremors through the thin walls, shaking loose dust from the ceiling panels.