9

A knot twisted in my stomach.

The thought of her suffering, of the pain she endured, sparked an insatiable urge to know more.

I had to uncover the truth about her death, about what had happened to her after she left this world.

I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, her tragic tale igniting a sense of responsibility within me.

I felt an overwhelming need to help her, to give her the voice that had been stripped away.

But as I continued to read, a darkness began to creep in around the edges of my mind.

This place was haunted, not just by Nina’s spirit, but by the echoes of every tortured soul that had passed through its doors.

I could feel it—an oppressive weight in the air, a sense of being watched, as if the asylum itself was alive, breathing in sync with my growing obsession.

Every flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye sent my heart racing.

The shadows felt thicker, darker, swirling around me like a thick fog.

I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see someone lurking in the dark corners of the library, but there was only emptiness.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the old building settling around me.

The further I delved into Nina's past, the more I felt her presence creeping closer, wrapping around me like an embrace.

My thoughts became tangled in her story, intertwining with my own life.

I was no longer just a researcher; I was a part of her history, and she was a part of mine.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the library, rattling my nerves. I jumped, heart racing as I turned toward the source of the noise.

A stack of books had toppled over, cascading to the floor in a chaotic mess.

I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to calm down.

It was just the wind, I told myself, just the weight of time pressing down on the old structure.

But deep down, I felt the stirring of something else.

I could almost hear her whispers, soft and alluring, luring me back into her world.

As I stood there, surrounded by the remnants of the past, I realized that I was no longer merely investigating an old asylum.

I was unearthing the bones of a tragic story, a history soaked in blood and sorrow.

And somehow, Nina was guiding me, her spectral fingers intertwining with my own as I danced on the edge of darkness.

I could feel the pull, the promise of her seduction lingering just beyond my grasp.

I wanted to know everything—her pain, her suffering, and the dark truths hidden in the shadows of the asylum.

And as I closed the book, I knew there was no turning back.

I had already crossed a line, and the abyss was waiting for me, beckoning me deeper into its depths.

The search for the truth had begun, and with it, the realization that I was bound to Nina and this forsaken place, forever entwined in a web of seduction and darkness.

The asylum's secrets were calling, and I was powerless to resist.

5

ELIAS

The chill of the asylum’s air wrapped around me like a cold, suffocating blanket.

I stood in the dim light of my makeshift command center, my camera gear and audio recorders strewn about haphazardly.

After the discoveries I had made about Nina’s tragic past, I felt a powerful urge to capture every whisper, every shadow, every pulse of the dark energy that seemed to saturate these walls.

But as I set up my equipment, a foreboding weight settled in my chest.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was no longer alone.

With each creak of the old building, I could hear the echoes of a past filled with anguish.

I set the cameras up in the main hall and the former patients’ rooms, hoping to catch glimpses of the ghostly activity that had begun to invade my dreams.

My hands trembled slightly as I adjusted the focus, the lens seeming to magnify the encroaching darkness.

I pressed the record button, and the soft whir of machinery filled the silence.