Concert Hall: The Squeakuel

There was nothing but black in the rearview mirror. Isaac wiped a small bead of sweat off of his forehead. Finally away from that creepy theater with the pictures he needed for his assignment. He didn't speak, still a little frightened. The drive ahead would be a rather long one as the rain cleared up. He didn't want to be left in this unbearable silence and reached for the radio dial. Another annoying pop song he had heard one too many times. Isaac turned it some more. Barely audible classic rock. One more time. Back to the pop song. Defeated, he turned the radio off.
"Something on your mind, Isaac?"
Isaac jumped, forgetting his passenger in the back seat.
"N-No... Just a little frazzled... That theater was creepy as hell..."
"I get it. The place was abandoned well over 30 years ago, and nobody in that town wants to have it torn down. Not even renovated. Like they want to keep the memories there."
"Memories... Damn it! I took a pocket watch from there!"
"What? Why?"
"I figured I could maybe find the original owner!"
"They're either dead or senile, Isaac. What in the hell were you thinking?"
"I don't know! I was just way too creeped out and kind of figured if I had something to hold onto, it would calm me down!"
"Well, now you have someone's old pocket watch. What're you going to do with it? If they find out it came from the theater, you're going to be in trouble. If you take it, you're basically stealing from a dead man."
Isaac pondered his choices, not wanting to live with the burden of this watch. He turned the car around and drove back into the town.
"I'm going to return it to the theater."
"...guess it's better than nothing."
"Shut up, Michael. Not like you would do the same thing."
"You're right. I would probably keep the watch. Let me look at it."
Isaac took it out of his pocket and handed it over to Michael. He examined it closely with his phone's light.
"Wow... This is actually a really nice pocket watch... Are you sure we can't-"
"No!"
"Ugh, fine... You always were a little goody two shoes."
"You were always a thief."
"Take that back."
"Fine... You just like fighting."
"Better."
Isaac drove back to the town, looking to Michael.
"You put it back..."
"What? You do it."
"I can't go back in there..."
"Wuss..."
Michael got out of the car, fixing his jacket, and entering the theater. He looked around at the old arcitecture. He sighed. He wasn't easily scared, but this place managed to give him a few chills. Michael looked around and found a small closet, with a box labled "Lost and Found". He dropped the watch in there and found a top hat. Michael put it on his head. Too big for his head. He put it back and closed the closet.
"Thank you..."
Michael heard the voice of an older man. He turned and saw... nothing.
"Isaac, I swear to God if this is some kind of joke..."
Silence.
"Isaac, get the hell out here!"
Again, no reply. Suddenly, the quiet of the foyer was interrupted by an incredibly loud bang. Michael had enough. He ran from out of the theater and hopped into the car. Isaac was confused.
"What're you-"
"DRIVE!"
Isaac quickly drove off into the night. Michael looked like he had seen a ghost. Isaac smirked.
"Told you."
"Shut up and take me home..."