Peripheral

It started with a single, incredibly unhelpful warning.On his neatly organized bookshelf, nestled beside books he's owned for years, sits a plain black notebook that wasn't there yesterday. Inside is a single sentence:Do not investigate any of the strange things that will happen soon.Naturally annoyed by the vagueness of it, his irritation turns into curiosity when a low metallic scraping echoes from his basement later that night.Midway down his basement stairs, he finds a door cut cleanly into the concrete wall. Beyond it lies a cold, wallpapered hallway that could not possibly fit inside his house. Unable to walk away, he climbs over the staircase railing and steps through, armed with nothing but a tape measure and an old rubber ball.