Prologo
Night had fallen heavy over Edinburgh, wrapping the city in a damp silence.
Inside St. Raphael Hospital, the corridors glowed with cold neon light, every sound amplified—the hum of machines, the echo of hurried steps.
But tonight felt different. Shadows seemed deeper, the air sharper, as if the old building itself was holding its breath.
In Room 313, a patient whispered a final warning before silence claimed the night.
Clara, the young nurse on duty, felt a chill crawl up her spine. Something had begun—something she could neither see nor escape.*
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