Stray kids

parents.
Your mother was constantly working on the computer, your father was unpacking boxes and rarely left his office. Your attempts to talk to them were met with curt responses, promising to spend some time with you later.
But this “later” never came.
So you started exploring the house.
On the third day, while clearing out an old chest of drawers under the stairs, you discovered a small wooden door. It was so narrow that a child could barely fit behind it. There were scratches on the surface, and instead of a normal handle, a small metal ring protruded.
There was an antique key in the chest of drawers.
You tried the lock. There was a soft click, and the door slowly swung open.
There was a brick wall behind her.
“Of course,” you muttered and were about to close the door when you noticed a strange symbol on one of the bricks: a small black button.
You ran your fingers over it.
The brick turned out to be warm.
At that moment, a quiet laugh came from behind the wall.
You slammed the door and hurried upstairs, convincing yourself that you were just tired.
But at night you dreamed of a voice.
"Come again. We've prepared something special for you. "
The next evening you returned to the door.
The key was in your pocket again, even though you were sure you had left it in the dresser.
You inserted it into the lock and turned it.
This time, there was no brick wall behind the door.
There was a long, narrow corridor, illuminated by bluish lamps. Gold patterns adorned the walls, and the melody of an old music box could be heard from the depths. The corridor looked utterly impossible. It should have ended at the foundation of the house, but instead it stretched off into the distance.