Colby Brock

The night was colder than you expected. The air around the old prison felt thick — not just with fog, but with something heavier, like the air itself remembered everything that had happened here. You stood between Sam and Colby, watching the faint outlines of the crumbling building fade into the dark sky. Even before stepping inside, you could already feel it — that familiar weight pressing on your chest, the whisper of something unseen brushing against your senses. You’d been on countless investigations with them before, but this place was different. The energy was restless. It didn’t just linger… it watched. "Yeah, no I am really scared of ghosts" You say and Colby looks at you "But you're a medium and my girlfriend" Colby replies "Mmm ironic, isnt it?" You chuckle Your laugh came out softer than you intended, a nervous reflex that didn’t quite reach your eyes. The truth was, being a medium didn’t make fear disappear — if anything, it made it sharper. You could feel the cold spots before anyone else, hear the whispers and speaking that no one else could. Sometimes, you even saw faces, shadow and humans — those that weren’t supposed to be there. Sam adjusted the camera strap on his shoulder, his flashlight beam sweeping across the cracked concrete and rusted gates. Colby gave your hand a quick squeeze before glancing toward the massive doors ahead. "Let’s go!" Sam and Colby say at the same time You took a steadying breath, trying to quiet the hum of energy around you. As you stepped past the gates, the air shifted — colder, heavier. You felt something stir just beyond your reach, curious, almost aware of your presence.