The sun died quickly.
One moment the sky was a bruised purple, and the next, it was black. Not the kind of black you see in a city, where streetlights and cars bleed into the sky. This was absolute, suffocating darkness. The only light came from the small LED on my camera and the moon struggling to cut through the fog.
"Okay, update time."
I sat on a piece of broken marble inside the ruins of the Santa Maria Church. The roof had collapsed decades ago, leaving the nave open to the stars. Vines hung from the rafters like nooses.
"It is currently 9:00 PM. Marco is gone. My phone has zero signal. And I am pretty sure I just saw a rat the size of a terrier."
I shone my flashlight around the church. It was beautiful in a sad, terrifying way. The altar was still there, covered in moss. The pews were gone, likely stolen or rotted away.
"I am setting up base camp here," I whispered to the camera. "Four walls. Defensible. I mean, except for the lack of a roof. But beggars cannot be choosers."
I unpacked my gear. Sleeping bag. Protein bars. Water bottles. And the heavy black case. I stared at it for a long moment. I knew what was inside, but I wasn't ready to open it yet. That felt like admitting things were going to go wrong.
Scritch.
I spun around, flashlight beam cutting through the dark.
Nothing. Just the ivy swaying in a wind that I couldn't feel.
"Did you hear that?" I asked the camera. "Sounded like footsteps. Wet footsteps."
I walked to the empty window frame and looked out toward the asylum. The main building loomed about a hundred yards away, a massive block of shadow against the night.
Then I saw them.
At the edge of the treeline, where the forest met the clearing, the darkness was... thicker.
I squinted. "Guys, I think there is someone out there."
I zoomed the camera in.
There were shapes standing among the trees. Three of them. They looked human, but their proportions were wrong. Too tall. Arms too long. They stood perfectly still, blending into the bark and the night. They were watching me.
"Hello?" I called out. My voice sounded small and pathetic in the open air.
The shapes didn't move. They just stood there, observing.
Then, the sound returned.
Dong.
The bell tower.
It was loud enough to rattle my teeth. The sound rolled across the island, heavy and metallic. It wasn't just a noise; it was a physical force.
"Okay, that is impossible," I stammered, backing away from the window. "That bell was melted down in the 1950s. I read the Wikipedia page!"
Dong.
The sound was closer this time. As if the bell wasn't in the tower anymore. As if it was ringing from right outside the church walls.
I scrambled back to my gear, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"We are leaving," I whispered frantically, shoving the water bottle back into my bag. "The church is not safe. We need to move."
I grabbed the black case. It felt heavier than before.
I looked back at the window. The three shapes were gone from the treeline.
I didn't need to ask where they went. I could feel the temperature in the church drop ten degrees. I could see my breath fogging in the flashlight beam.
They weren't in the trees anymore. They were inside with me.
"Time to go," I said, my voice trembling. "Right now."
I sprinted out the back archway of the church, plunging into the overgrown darkness of the island interior, blindly running toward what I hop
ed was a safer place.
I was wrong.