Where the Cracks Begin

Previously

…He glanced back at the hulking structure, its windows now dark voids. The place felt less like a ruin and more like a cage, its bars invisible but undeniably present. He had a feeling that the whispers he’d dismissed earlier were not just the wind. They were echoes, and they were calling him deeper into the heart of Havenwood’s darkness. The box in his pocket felt like a promise, or perhaps a threat. He wasn’t sure which yet. But he knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that Blackwood Asylum held more than just ghosts. It held answers. And those answers, he suspected, would be far more terrifying than any supernatural legend.