The SUV hummed through the dark, tree-lined backroads, tires crunching gravel as fog began to roll in across the hills. The only light came from the dashboard and the eerie glow of Colby’s phone as he scrolled through the final notes about the location.

You sat in the back seat, wedged between Seth, who was quietly checking batteries and camera lenses, and Nate, who had one leg propped up on the console, sipping from a giant gas station soda like this was a road trip, not a descent into madness.

Sam, in the passenger seat, glanced at the clock on the dash — 1:12 A.M. "Guys, if we’re gonna beat sunrise, we’ve got maybe four hours tops to shoot. After that, it gets sketchy with the road washouts behind the property."

Colby, driving, gave a short laugh without looking away from the road. "Dude, the sketchy part isn’t the roads. It’s the fact Millhaven Manor hasn’t been touched since 1979. The place was a psychiatric half-way house with no paper trail. No staff records. Just… abandoned overnight."

Seth leaned over to show you his phone — a faded black-and-white photo of the house. "It’s massive. Three floors. No power, no cell reception. People say the third floor doesn’t show up on maps anymore. Like it got wiped clean."

"Or like it doesn’t want to be found," Nate added with a grin, tapping the back of Colby’s seat. "This is gonna be sick."

Sam sighed and glanced at you over his shoulder. "You sure you’re good for this one? This place has a rep. We found a forum thread where a guy said his brother tried exploring it and came back missing time. Hours. Like something just… rewrote it."

Colby gave a dry chuckle. "You know, normal things."

The trees grew thicker, and the mist swirled outside the windows. The GPS cut out with a chime, screen freezing just as the next turn came into view. Seth checked his signal. "We’re officially off-grid."