Shadows of St. Dymphna Asylum

Exploring St. Dymphna Asylum

The air was thick with decay and something else—an unshakable sense of dread—as seven friends stood before the crumbling facade of St. Dymphna Asylum. The moonlight barely penetrated the overgrown trees, casting faint beams on the cracked walls of the abandoned building.

"Are we really doing this?" Lani asked, wrapping her arms around herself as a shiver ran down her spine. The asylum loomed ahead, its shattered windows like empty, staring eyes.

Josh, ever the daredevil, scoffed. "You're not backing out now, are you? This is the most haunted spot in the state. Think of the stories we'll have after tonight."

Fritz checked his flashlight, flicking it on and off. "Let's just get in, look around, and get out. No need to hang around longer than we have to."

"Agreed," Isaiah murmured, their voice barely above a whisper, eyes flicking toward the shadows shifting in the dark corners.

Byleth nodded. "If we're doing this, let's stick together. I've heard enough about this place to know it doesn't like visitors."

With a creak, the rusted gates swung open, almost as if inviting them in. One by one, they stepped into the asylum's yawning mouth.

The first thing they noticed was the smell—an overpowering mix of mold, dust, and something coppery. The hallway stretched before them, peeling wallpaper hanging in strips, exposing rotting wood. Faded graffiti screamed warnings: *LEAVE* and *THEY NEVER LEFT*.

Jake led the way. "Let's head toward the east wing. That's where they kept the worst patients, right?"

Josh grinned. "Yeah, I heard about that. Violent, insane. Some say they experimented on them."

"Just rumors," Rhys said, though the uncertainty in his voice was obvious.

As they moved deeper, a faint tapping echoed from down the hall. Lani stopped, eyes wide. "Did anyone else hear that?"

"It's probably just the wind," Fritz said, though he sounded unsure.

Suddenly, the tapping turned into a scraping noise, like nails dragging along a chalkboard. The group froze, staring at each other with a silent agreement: it was time to split up.

"Cover more ground this way," Josh said, trying to sound confident, though the growing tension in his voice betrayed him. "Me, Jake, and Rhys will head down this corridor. Fritz, you take Lani and check the west wing. Isaiah and Byleth, explore the upper floors."

No one wanted to argue. Staying in one big group felt like a magnet for whatever was lurking in the dark.

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### Josh, Jake, and Rhys

The trio moved cautiously down the east corridor. The air grew colder, their breaths puffing out in thin clouds. Doors lined the hallway, some hanging off their hinges, others bolted shut with rusted locks.

Jake shined his flashlight through one cracked door, revealing a room smeared with dark stains. "What the hell happened here?"

"Something bad," Rhys muttered. "We should keep moving."

Josh, ignoring their nerves, forced open another door. The room was empty, except for an old wheelchair positioned in the center. The light flickered as they stepped inside. A cold breeze brushed past them, making the wheelchair creak as it slowly spun in place.

"That's not normal," Rhys whispered, his voice trembling.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them with a deafening bang. Josh lunged for it, but it wouldn't budge. "Someone's messing with us!"