The old hospital had been abandoned for decades, its rusted gates creaking in the wind like the sighs of forgotten souls. No one knew exactly when it closed, but rumors whispered that strange things happened there—patients who never left, doctors who vanished without a trace, and nurses who spoke to shadows no one else could see. Most people avoided the place, but a few curious souls found their way there anyway. Elena had always been drawn to the unknown. A journalist by trade, she spent her free time chasing stories others dismissed as myths. When she heard about the abandoned hospital, she couldn’t resist the pull. She arrived on a gray afternoon, the sky heavy with clouds that seemed to press down on the crumbling building like a silent warning. The front doors were locked, but a broken window near the entrance gave her just enough space to squeeze through. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the scent of decay. The walls were lined with peeling paint, and the floorboards groaned under her steps. She turned on her flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness like a knife. The halls stretched endlessly, each one looking identical to the next, as if the building itself was trying to confuse her. She wandered into what looked like a waiting room. The chairs were overturned, and the magazines on the table had long since turned to brittle paper. A single flickering bulb overhead cast jagged shadows on the walls. She felt a chill run down her spine, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or something else. In the next room, she found a patient chart lying open on a desk. The name was smudged, but the condition was clear: “Unexplained disappearance.” She flipped through the pages, finding more entries like it. Each one listed a patient who had been admitted, then simply vanished. Some had no discharge records at all. The last entry was dated only a week before the hospital closed. As she stepped deeper into the building, she noticed something strange—there were no mirrors. Not even in the bathrooms. That alone made her uneasy. She continued down a corridor until she reached a set of double doors marked “Operating Room 3.” The door was slightly ajar, so she pushed it open. Inside, the room was empty except for a single operating table. It was covered in a thin layer of dust, but there were faint stains along the edges. A surgical lamp hung from the ceiling, its glass cracked. Elena approached cautiously, her flashlight trembling in her hand. As she moved closer, she saw something written on the wall in what looked like blood. The words were in an unfamiliar script, but the meaning was clear: *They are still here.* She backed away quickly, heart pounding. Just then, the lights flickered, and the temperature in the room dropped dramatically. The sound of distant whispers filled the air, not loud, but persistent, like a memory trying to be heard. She turned to leave, but the door had slammed shut behind her. Panic surged through her, but she forced herself to stay calm. She searched the room for another exit, but the windows were sealed. The whispers grew louder, and she could feel something watching her. Then, suddenly, the lights went out completely. In the darkness, she heard a voice—soft, almost melodic. It said, “You shouldn’t have come.” Elena’s breath caught in her throat. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. The room felt heavier, as if the very air was pressing against her. Then, just as quickly as it began, the whispers stopped, and the lights flickered back on. The door was now open, and the room was silent again. She ran out of the hospital, her legs shaking, her mind racing. She didn’t look back. But as she stood outside, catching her breath, she noticed something strange. A figure stood in the distance, watching her from the shadow of the building. It didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched. She turned and ran, but the image stayed with her. That night, she wrote down everything she had seen, hoping to make sense of it. But as she typed the final sentence, she realized something. The date on the patient chart had been written in the same script as the message on the wall. And the date was today.