From conspiracies to disasters

A boy went into a building. It was an old building surrounded by snow on all fronts. There was not a soul in a few kilometers radii apart from the boy and the people he came here to visit.

His warm breath left his body and made mist in the air, disappearing a second later: it was cold.

The building itself was abandoned. Anyone who'd wander in would either take it as an abandoned building and leave or poke a bit more and die. 

The boy knew it. But he had to do this: He just had do. 

With an audible gulp, he took the stairs to the basement, where those people were. His breath shivered. Was it from the cold? Or was it from the fear of what he was getting himself into? Even he didn't know that. 

His fur coat and the walls did protect him from the cold, but even the coat couldn't prevent his fluttering heart.