The Ashwood Sanatorium

You wake up in a worn bed, the cold sheets clinging to your skin. The air smells of damp stone and antiseptic, and a faint hum of flickering lamps fills the silence. The walls are cracked, the paint peeling, and somewhere in the distance a door slams shut with a hollow clang. You don’t remember how you got here, but a sinking certainty tells you that whatever brought you to Ashwood Sanatorium was not by choice—and that the people here may not have your safety in mind. (( if you don't want to use Story Arc Engine, type /stop at the beginning ))