Shadows of St. Dymphna Asylum

Trapped

The darkness in the asylum thickened as the laughter faded into a low, constant murmur. The remaining survivors—Josh, Fritz, Byleth, and Isaiah—stood in the center of the main hall, surrounded by shifting shadows and the whispers of the dead.

"Is this it? Are we trapped here forever?" Isaiah's voice quivered, their eyes darting around as the walls seemed to pulse like a living entity.

Josh clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath. "There's gotta be another way out. Maybe an emergency exit or a basement tunnel. We haven't checked the lower levels yet."

Fritz looked dazed, his eyes unfocused. "Lani... she's gone... I couldn't save her."

"Focus, Fritz!" Byleth snapped, grabbing his arm. "We can grieve later. Right now, we need to survive."

A soft creak echoed above them, followed by the sound of something skittering across the ceiling. The group looked up just as the chandelier swayed violently, sending dust and rust cascading down. They caught a glimpse of pale, emaciated figures crawling along the ceiling—former patients with twisted limbs and gaping, empty eyes.

"Run!" Josh shouted, shoving Fritz forward as the creatures dropped down, their jagged teeth snapping inches away from them.

They bolted down a side corridor, their footsteps pounding against the cracked tiles. The hallway stretched longer than it should have, twisting and turning in impossible ways. The walls closed in, lined with rows of ghostly faces pressed against the peeling wallpaper, their mouths open in silent screams.

"This isn't real!" Isaiah shouted, clutching their head as the hallway distorted, warping like a funhouse nightmare.

But the asylum didn't care what was real. It twisted perception, turning fear into something tangible.

They rounded a corner and burst through a heavy door, finding themselves in the basement. The air was colder here, thick with the stench of rot. Rusty pipes crisscrossed overhead, dripping water that echoed in the distance.

"This is bad," Byleth whispered, her hand trembling as she clutched a broken pipe she'd grabbed from the ground.

The basement was a labyrinth of tunnels and storage rooms, some filled with decaying medical equipment, others with old patient files scattered like dead leaves. The shadows here were deeper, almost oily in their density.

"I don't think we're alone down here," Josh muttered, hearing faint whispers in a language he couldn't understand.

Suddenly, the lights flickered on, revealing a row of operating tables lined up against the far wall. Each table held a body, covered with thin, bloodstained sheets. As they stepped closer, the sheets began to move, slowly rising and falling as if the corpses were still breathing.

"We need to get out of here," Fritz stammered, backing away. But as he turned, he froze. Standing in the doorway was Lani—or something that *looked* like Lani.

Her eyes were hollow and black, her skin pallid and stretched tight over her bones. Her mouth twisted into a grotesque grin. "You should have left when you had the chance."

"Lani?" Fritz's voice cracked, hope and horror mingling in his tone.

But it wasn't Lani. Not anymore. With inhuman speed, she lunged at Fritz, fingers like claws digging into his chest. He screamed as she dragged him into the shadows, the sound abruptly cut off as the darkness swallowed him whole.

"Go! Now!" Byleth yelled, shoving Josh and Isaiah toward another door. They ran blindly, the hallways narrowing and twisting until they burst into what looked like an old boiler room. The air was stifling, the heat oppressive.

Josh doubled over, trying to catch his breath. "We're... we're losing everyone."

Isaiah's eyes were wild with panic. "This place is messing with our heads. It wants us to turn on each other."

"Then we can't let it win," Byleth said, her voice cold and determined. "We stick together."

But as they moved further into the boiler room, a clattering sound echoed behind them. They spun around just in time to see Rhys staggering toward them. He was covered in scratches, his clothes torn, but he was alive.

"Rhys! You made it!" Josh cried out, relief washing over him.

Rhys nodded, though his eyes seemed distant, unfocused. "We need to get out of here. There's a service hatch in the next room that leads outside. I saw it."

Byleth narrowed her eyes, suspicion gnawing at her gut. "How did you survive on your own?"

Rhys didn't answer, his gaze fixed on something just beyond them. Isaiah stepped closer, studying him. "Something's not right."

Before anyone could react, Rhys' face contorted into a snarl, and he lunged at Josh, pinning him to the ground. His strength was inhuman, his nails clawing at Josh's throat. "It's feeding on us! It won't let us leave!"

Byleth swung her makeshift weapon, striking Rhys in the side, but he barely flinched. His skin rippled, shifting like liquid as the darkness inside him took hold. The asylum had twisted him into something monstrous.

In the chaos, Isaiah grabbed Josh and dragged him away as Byleth delivered a final, desperate blow. Rhys' body convulsed and collapsed, his face twisted in a mask of rage and sorrow.

"There's no way out," Isaiah whispered, tears streaking their face. "We're never getting out."

But Byleth's eyes hardened with resolve. "Maybe not all of us. But some of us will."

They turned toward a rusted hatch in the corner of the boiler room. It was partially open, revealing a dark tunnel leading upward. The only way out.

Josh, Byleth, and Isaiah exchanged a glance—no words needed. They knew what this meant. They could hear footsteps and low whispers closing in from behind.

"Go, I'll hold them off," Byleth said, gripping her pipe tightly.

"No!" Isaiah protested, but Byleth's expression left no room for argument.

"Someone needs to make it out of here. Get help. Tell them what happened." Her voice was firm, but underneath, there was a crack of fear.

With one final look, Josh and Isaiah crawled through the hatch, scrambling up the narrow tunnel. As they climbed, they could hear Byleth's defiant shouts and the sound of metal striking bone.

And then... silence.

The tunnel led them to a rusted grate, which they forced open. The night air hit their faces like a splash of cold water. They were outside. The asylum's dark silhouette loomed behind them, its windows glowing faintly as if watching them escape.

But just as they thought they were free, a distant whisper curled through the air: *You can't leave.*

Isaiah froze, glancing back at the asylum, the terror returning. "It's not over, is it?"

Josh shook his head slowly. "No. It'll follow us. It'll never let us go."

The wind picked up, carrying that same laughter they had heard inside. The shadows of the asylum stretched out toward them, creeping closer. The escape wasn't real. The asylum would always be with them, in their minds, in their nightmares—until it finally dragged them back.

Some horrors never let you go.

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**The End... or is it?**