The night was thick with fog as the small group of friends—Cass, Jason, Liam, and you—stood at the rusted gates of the abandoned asylum. It loomed before you, its crumbling brick walls bathed in the eerie moonlight. Once, it had housed the forgotten, the broken, and the unloved, and now it was nothing but a decaying monument to suffering.

Cass adjusted her camera, snapping pictures of the eerie structure as the rest of you gathered around. "This place is going to make a killer documentary," she said, her voice shaky with excitement.

Jason smirked. "If we don’t die first. We all know how these places go."

You stood apart from the others, your hand resting on the handle of your old, worn revolver. It was the only weapon you had—given to you by your grandfather, a relic from his military days. You hadn't expected trouble, but you’d seen enough horror films to know that an abandoned asylum wasn’t a place to take lightly.

"Guys, don’t joke around. This place gives me bad vibes," you said, your voice firm.

"Aw, come on," Liam said, nudging you with a smirk. "It’s just an old building. Nothing’s in there but dust and rats."

But as you stepped closer to the door, your skin prickled with an unsettling feeling. The door to the asylum, rusted and twisted, groaned in protest as Jason shoved it open. Inside, the darkness swallowed you all whole, the only sound the distant scurrying of something in the shadows.

The air was thick, musty, and heavy with the scent of mold and decay. Cass switched on her flashlight, casting long shadows across the cracked tiles of the lobby. The building’s floor was uneven, the wood warped and the plaster peeling from the walls. Faded signs read "No Admission" and "Keep Out," but the warnings fell on deaf ears.

As you moved deeper into the asylum, the silence seemed to press down on you, stifling. "This place is giving me the creeps," Liam muttered under his breath.