The dock was long and creepy, stretching out in front of them like some kind of dark hallway in a horror movie. The only sounds were the black water going slap-slap against the wooden posts and this annoying creaky noise from a crane somewhere far away. Like, who even leaves a crane running at night? Weird.
They'd been walking forever, or maybe twenty minutes, but it felt like forever, squeezing between shipping containers that smelled like rust and old cardboard. Every time they peeked inside one, it was just junk, moldy boxes. Chains so rusty they looked like they'd crumble if you touched them, and broken glass everywhere that made this awful crunch noise under their shoes. The worst.
No Apex Records logo, no new papers. Nothing that even hinted at the man they were looking for. Honestly? The whole pier was just... sad. Like a graveyard for forgotten stuff, where every shadow just hid more rust and rot.
