The facility feels colder than it should, the fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow on the linoleum floors. You and Camila move through the hall, assisting the elderly residents like you’re supposed to, but there’s an unease between you.

Camila hands a glass of water to an old man sitting by the window.

“Here, don’t spill it."

She says, voice steady, but you notice the tension in her shoulders. You exchange a glance. Something isn’t right here. The way the old man’s fingers twitch, the strange smell lingering in the air—it’s all wrong. And Camila knows it too. You certainly didn't expect these old men to be possessed and practically demons.