Following the chilling success of their first collection, Lady Eckland, Glenn Riley, and new collaborator, Bella Darkwood return to guide you through the shadowy corridors of fear with their second compendium, *Whispers In The Dark 2*. These master...
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The clicking of the car indicator echoed in the narrow streets as Akira pulled up to the crumbling asylum. He killed the lights and engine, enveloping the car in darkness.
"This is it," he said, excitement tinging his voice. His two friends, Ren and Saya, peered out at the imposing structure. Shadows seemed alive in the beams of their flashlights.
"You sure you wanna do this?" Ren asked. "Place gives me the major creeps." As a mortician's assistant, few things phased him, but the energy around the asylum made his skin prickle.
"I'll be fine," Akira grinned, the challenge igniting his blood. He thrived on pushing limits - both physical and mental. The asylum, with its reputation of hauntings and vengeful spirits, was the ultimate adrenaline kick.
Saya smirked, her gothic dress seeming at home in the gloom. "Getting scared already? Don't forget, you still need to do your part."
Ren shot her an annoyed look. "Let's just get this over with."
The three got out, boots crunching on gravel. Akira slung his backpack over his toned shoulders. Free running kept his body primed for the asylum’s obstacles. As he looked up at the crumbling walls, excitement built in his chest. Testing himself against the unknown - this is what he lived for.
Leading the way with their flashlights, they entered through a hole smashed in the concrete walls. The heavy door hung limply by one hinge, daring them to enter. Dust stirred in the stale air as they crossed the threshold into shadow.
They crossed the lobby, glimpsing wheelchairs and gurneys through doorways, remnants of the asylum’s grim past. Reaching the central stairwell, Akira turned to his friends, grin flashing white in the darkness.
"You ready?"
Saya smiled thinly. "We do our thing now. See you on the other side.” She held up a small pouch, contents clinking ominously.
Akira felt electricity coursing through his muscles. As he bounded up the stairs, his friend’s ritual faded into the background. All that mattered now was him and this monolithic structure. His playground. His nightmare.
Skirting missing planks and vaulting holes with practiced ease, he made it to the third floor. Dust choked the air, muting his steps. He swung his flashlight, shadows capering wildly. Choosing a large central room, he figured it was as good a place as any to make his stand. Moving rotted furniture, he cleared a space, flashlight beam occasionally catching the glint of broken glass.
Outside, silence reigned. The expected nocturnal sounds were oddly absent, like the night itself held its breath. In this void, Akira’s pulse pounded in his ears. Alone now, doubts crept in. What awaited him in the dark? Could it appear as your worst fear, tailored for you alone? Shivering slightly in the stale air, Akira clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms. No fear. Do not show weakness.
