The chilling discovery of the shifting chair sent a jolt of fear through the group. They huddled together, their flashlights trembling in their hands, illuminating the newly appeared symbol on the wall. Chloe, her face pale, recognized it from her research. "It's... a summoning rune," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "A very old one."
Liam, trying to regain his composure, suggested they leave. "Yeah, let's get out of here," he said, his bravado noticeably absent.
But as they turned to leave, they found the door they had entered through was now firmly shut. They rattled the handle, but it wouldn't budge. They were trapped.
"Great," Maya muttered, her skepticism replaced by a gnawing sense of dread. "Just great."
Noah, his eyes wide and fixed on a point behind them, whispered, "There's another way." He pointed to a darkened hallway they hadn't noticed before.
Reluctantly, they followed Noah, their flashlights casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to mock them. The hallway led them to a large, ornate door.
It was locked, but Liam, ever resourceful, managed to pick the lock with a credit card he always carried.
Beyond the door was a spacious room, clearly once an office. Dust lay thick on every surface, and the air was heavy with the smell of old paper and decay. "This must have been the administrator's office," Chloe said, running a finger along a dusty bookshelf.
While Chloe examined the books, Liam checked the desk. He found a hidden compartment, cleverly concealed beneath a loose panel. Inside, nestled in the darkness, was a leather-bound journal.
"What's that?" Maya asked.
"Looks like a diary," Liam replied, opening the journal carefully. The pages were filled with cramped handwriting. "It's signed... Elias Thorne."
A chill ran down Chloe's spine. "Dr. Elias Thorne," she breathed. "The head physician of Cranbrook Asylum."
They gathered around Liam as he began to read. Thorne's words started out innocently enough, detailing his daily routine and his patients. But as they read further, the tone of the journal began to change. Thorne described experiments, not just medical ones, but also... something else.
Disturbing rituals, occult practices, a fascination with what he called "the hidden world."
"He was obsessed with something he called the 'Sleeping God,'" Liam read, his voice trembling slightly. "He believed it was a source of immense power, buried beneath the asylum."
The journal described a ritual, a way to awaken this "Sleeping God." It required a sacrifice, a life given willingly... or unwillingly. The details were vague, but the implications were horrifying.
As Liam read, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. They could hear whispers again, swirling around them in the darkness, closer now, more distinct.
A shadowy figure flickered in their peripheral vision, a fleeting glimpse of something tall and gaunt, with eyes that burned like embers.
A wave of nausea washed over Maya. She felt an overwhelming sense of dread, as if something was trying to reach her, to touch her soul.
Suddenly, the office door slammed shut, just like the one before. They were trapped again. And this time, the feeling of being watched was even stronger.
They weren't alone. Something was in the room with them, something ancient and malevolent. The whispers intensified, coalescing into a single, chilling word that echoed through the room, a word that sounded like... awake.