Heavy wooden doors more than twice your height stand shut in front of you. The…

Heavy wooden doors more than twice your height stand shut in front of you. The rectangular, sea-worn ornamentation appears in stark contrast to the padlock carelessly drilled into the wood.

Inspect the staple.

The padlock passes through a staple that's been hastily attached to the wood. Closer inspection reveals that one of the screws is not a screw at all, but a nail. The work has been done recently and is unprofessional, to say the least.

Should you want to get through, it might be easier to just pry the whole thing off.

Back off.

This cheap-looking padlock is sturdily built. It shackles together a hasp and a staple screwed into the wooden door. The lock is adorned with a yellow sticker.

It'll be easier to break the staple than the lock. Also -- that sticker is interesting, somehow...

(Turn to the lieutenant.) "This is where Mr. Prybar comes in handy."

He takes a step back. "Maybe we should look for another way in first... The church has seen enough mistreatment."

There is a touch of something in his voice. Hard to say what.

"How about we go and check out that tent again?" He nods at the shabby piece of canvas set up on the ice next to the church.

He takes a step back. "Maybe we should circle the building first and look for another way. The building has seen enough mistreatment."

There is a touch of guilt in his voice.

"Where do you think we should start?"

"Can you hear the pulsing bass underneath the wind?" He raises his hand to his ear. "A sure sign of junior delinquency -- somewhere east of here."

There's something on the sea ice there.

"Kim, do you happen to have a prybar?"

The lieutenant takes a step back and looks at the church looming overhead. "Yes, there's a toolbox in the Kineema..."

"But maybe we should look for another way in first... The building has seen enough mistreatment."

"But maybe we should circle the building and look for another way in first. The building has seen enough mistreatment."

Try to peel off the sticker without ripping it.

There's nothing like the sound of a sticker unpeeling. Now it's stuck to your thumb.

Put the sticker in your ledger -- after the last entry, where it belongs.

Looks like today was a gold star day!

Shake it off your thumb and throw it in the wind.

Au revoir, sticker!

Put the sticker on your ledger -- right on the cover!

Voilà! Looks very modern.

You're part of the future-brigade now. And so is your formerly humdrum ledger. Neon, baby!

Your hands are clammy from the sea air. The piece of sticker keeps slipping away...

"Kim, could I have that handkerchief? My hands are wet."

The lieutenant hands you a blue handkerchief. He looks a little dismayed when he gets it back crumpled. However, it should be easier to peel the sticker off now.

"Fuck this!" (Hit the lock.)

That hurt. The lieutenant looks up at the roof of the church, ignoring your little tantrum.

The padlock hits the wood like a knocker, with a resounding thud. Your cold hand hurts from the impact. Congratulations!

Gracefully let the lock go.

The lock clanks against the door, cold and heavy.

Rattle the doors to see if they open.

Nothing happens, only the sound of the padlock rattling against the door.

"I don't think that's going to work..."

"Besides, we should really get to the island." He looks at the sea.

High above, the wind wraps the church in its rush. Cold and wet from the ocean bay, it parts around the massive keel-shaped roof. Like a test tunnel washing both sides, the way it has done for three-hundred-and-forty years. The wind keeps its distance. So should you.

Back up and look at the door.

The doors remain unchanged -- closed with a padlock.

"What is this feeling?"

THERE IS A HOLE IN MY HEART.

The lieutenant looks at the padlock. He didn't hear you asking, you were quiet enough.

"Do you think our suspect is hiding inside?" He raises his sight to the darkened windows overhead.

"No, I'm just curious."

The lieutenant nods silently.

"I do."

"People do look to churches for shelter, but an abandoned thing like this... I'm not so sure."

"She might be. It's worth checking out anyway."

Open the padlock with the key.

The lock turns easily. You hear a click as the shackle pops open.

Feels like electricity and a very small piece of nothingness.

"Let's go." The lieutenant nods at you.

Pull on the doors...

As you do, you hear and the echo of the Doomed Commercial Area. Its black halls and dusty machines. Then the feeling passes.

A great whoosh of air rushes into the dark innards of the church, as though rushing to fill a great vacuum...