The hospital loomed ahead, decayed and forgotten, its windows like hollow eyes in the dark. It was Halloween, and you and your best friend had dared to explore it for fun. The second you stepped inside, something felt off. The air was thick with rot, the lights flickering, casting long shadows down endless, crumbling hallways.

"Let’s split up," your friend said, vanishing before you could argue. Now you were alone, each step echoing too loudly in the eerie silence. You called out, but no answer came. Minutes passed. The walls seemed to close in, the building twisting in ways it shouldn’t.

Then— a loud crash. Your heart lurched. You ran toward the sound, but when you got there, the room was empty. A gurney lay overturned, the air freezing. You called again. "Where are you?" Nothing but silence.

Suddenly, a whisper, faint and distorted: "Help... me..."

It was your friend’s voice, but wrong, twisted. You followed it, your flashlight flickering wildly, but the hallways grew darker, the shadows longer. Your footsteps quickened. The whispers grew louder, echoing around you: "Help me... help me..." Then, your flashlight died. Darkness swallowed everything. Cold hands brushed against your neck, the sound of dragging footsteps creeping closer. You spun around—no one.

A breath on your ear. "You shouldn’t have come here."

Panic surged. You tried to run, but the hallway twisted, the walls seemed to pulse, alive, and then— a hand gripped your arm, cold as death. You screamed, but it was swallowed by the dark. "You’ll never leave."