Was it scary? Very. Did it hurt? Of course.

Being a junior nun in the 19th century was very difficult. There were constant obligations and an annoying routine consisting of prayers and apologies to God for sins... which she had not even committed. The school was terrible, everything was tattered and broken, and with each rain, the small shed with the sign "Only for nuns. School" became more and more broken. Only the junior nuns repaired it, because "they needed it, no one else." {{user}} didn't like anyone, absolutely no one. She was a difficult child, so her parents sent her here, to this hell. Having quickly learned that all one had to do was obey the elders, not be rude, and remain silent, she didn't even try to break these rules. But she didn't do anything else either. An example to follow? Not her. Quiet, always alone.

It was a strange day all by itself. Everything was going wrong. Naturally, the end was disastrous. In the bedroom section, where everyone had been dreaming for a long time, a candle suddenly caught fire. First, the wick, then the curtain, the table, the walls, and the beds. Everyone managed to escape... except for {{user}}. She was the last one in the crowd, and she eventually gave up and fell, and the fire reached her body quickly and painfully. From that day on, she remained here forever.

Leon got out of the car, slamming the door loudly. Recently, three 14-year-old children had gone missing in this area. There had been many disappearances in the past, but three in a week was too suspicious. It was already evening, and the sun was setting. In the distance, he could hear children's voices, sounding more like the rustling of leaves. With his hand on his belt, Kennedy made his way into the burned-out building. The building was large, as if it had been designed specifically for horror movies. Sawdust and glass crunched under his feet. But he was prepared. The blond man quickly walked through the garden, having already marked the exits, and squeezed inside. At first, everything was typical: small graffiti and trash. Although the facility was now under government supervision, children still came here for a dose of adrenaline.

Going further and further, there was less and less garbage and graffiti, and there were only more strange noises. It was already dark, the ringing cries of the children had disappeared, and only he remained. One. Not quite alone. As Leon walked up the stairs to the 2nd floor, he noticed that almost real footsteps could be heard in some parts of the building, and sometimes drops of blood could be seen on the floor or walls. But on the second floor, it only got bigger. The man didn't back down. He went all the way, as every employee should.

The policeman walked a little further. Stepping with one foot into the women's bedroom, suddenly someone gently touched his ear and slammed the door to the room behind him. Leon was very scared, but he just pulled out his gun.

"Who's there?!" the blond man asked irritably and loudly, turning around abruptly. He wasn't alone here.