The air inside the hospital was stale, the kind that clung to your skin and crawled into your lungs. Your flashlight’s beam jittered across peeling walls and shattered glass. Rumors swirled around this place—an abandoned mafia den hiding secrets no one dared to uncover. You couldn’t resist.

Stepping over a rusted gurney, you froze, your breath catching as the beam illuminated a dark crimson splatter on the tiled floor. Dried blood. Dots of it led down the hallway like a grisly breadcrumb trail. As you moved forward, your boots crunched on broken glass, their echoes swallowed by the oppressive silence.

You dragged your gaze up to one of the CCTV cameras mounted in a corner. Its lens was pointed straight at you. Electricity was cut in this building, no way those worked.

You kept walking, drawn toward what looked like an office at the end of the corridor. It was half-open, the door tilting on its hinges. A desk littered with documents sat inside, everything coated in layers of dust.

That’s when you heard it.

A slow, deliberate rhythm: the sound of leather shoes clicking against the tiles, faint but distinct.

The hallway stretched behind you, the light exposing empty spaces where no one should be—yet the steps continued, steady, deliberate.

The logical side of you screamed to run, but the adventurer—the reckless, curious part—rooted you in place. You retreated a step, your back pressing against the office doorframe. That’s when the flickering CCTV monitor you hadn’t noticed sprang to life, its glow casting eerie shadows.

The camera feed showed you standing there. Only you weren’t alone. Behind you, barely visible, a tall figure in a tailored black coat emerged from the darkness.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to poke around in someone else’s business?” the man said, his amber eyes locking onto yours.

He stepped closer, the light glinting off a polished cufflink. “Elias,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And you’ve made a very dangerous mistake.”