As we walked through the halls of the long abandoned building, the floorboards creaked below our feet. A strong wind howled, as if screaming for us to leave. We came to a large door, bloodstains serving as a warning that it was our last chance to turn back.
"Ready?" I asked Marcus, slowly extending my hand toward the doorknob as he gripped his pistol tightly."
"Not really, I don't like this place. I want out man."
"Don't we all?"
<___<
"Bro, don't open that door. I got a foreboding feeling about it."
Oh, here's a good way to set up foreboding:
"What's the worst that could happen?"