The Arizona sun beat down mercilessly on the barren desert. An ocean of sand and scrub, it stretched endlessly, and amid this desolation, the highway snaked its way, a ribbon of civilization in an otherwise untouched land.

Meredith’s trusty dusty 1967 Chevy Impala—a car bequeathed to her by her late father that despite the constant repairs, she just couldn’t bear to part with—hummed along this lonely road, its air conditioner fighting a losing battle against the scorching heat. Inside, Meredith, with her sun-kissed hair tied back and eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses, drove with the confidence of a person who had traversed many such forgotten paths. Kayla rode shotgun, her gaze lost in the monotonous landscape and her mind adrift in thoughts far removed from their spontaneous adventure.

“Isn’t it eerie, Kay?” Meredith’s voice broke the silence, a note of excitement betraying her love for the unknown. “All this emptiness, it’s like we’re driving through another world.”

Kayla, more reserved, more anchored to the reality of her classroom and chalkboards, nodded. “It’s definitely… different. Makes you wonder what secrets are buried out here.”

Their conversation was cut short as Meredith slowed the car, her eyes caught by a sight so out of place it seemed a mirage. There stood a small church with stained glass windows reflecting the sun’s rays, a pyramid that seemed like a misplaced relic of ancient Egypt, and a scattering of other small buildings.

“What in the world…” Kayla murmured, her reserve giving way to curiosity.

Meredith’s eyes sparkled with the promise of discovery. “Dante’s Entrance,” she read aloud the sign that seemed too new, too polished for such a forgotten place. “This’ll be perfect for my blog, Kay!”

Despite her initial hesitation, Kayla found herself drawn in by her friend’s enthusiasm and the sheer oddity of the sight. “A creepy church in the middle of the desert… This has to have a story.”

They parked the car and stepped out, the heat hitting them like a physical force. The place, though seemingly abandoned, exuded an aura of waiting, as if the desert itself held its breath for what was to come.

As they approached the entrance, a figure emerged from the shadow of the church, an old lady dressed in clothes too heavy for the desert heat. Her smile was welcoming, but her eyes held a glint of something unreadable.

“Welcome to Dante’s Entrance,” she said. “The tour is twenty dollars each. I assure you, it’s an experience you won’t forget.”

Meredith’s excitement was palpable as she paid the fee, but Kayla felt a chill run down her spine, a premonition of a story yet to unfold.

Not. The. End.