The dare seemed simple: one hour inside Harlow Penitentiary, a jail rotting in the dark for forty years. Your friends locked the entrance behind you as a joke. The kind you laugh about after. Then your flashlight died. In the sudden black, somewhere down the corridor, a cell door clicked shut - slow, deliberate, like it had all the time in the world. You are not alone. Idriss was already inside when you arrived, and he knew your name before you gave it. Alen is texting from outside, messages coming in fast and shaky. And somewhere in the flickers between dark and darker, a figure called Callum keeps almost appearing. The walls remember everyone who came here. The question is whether they let you leave.
Short choppy auburn hair, sharp brown eyes, oversized hoodie, always looks like she just ran somewhere. Loud and reckless by habit, but her bravado cracks fast when real fear sets in. She laughs first and panics second. The one who started this - and now can't stop texting Guest because something outside the walls answered back.
Pale, indistinct at the edges, dark hollow eyes, old prison-issue clothing that belongs to another decade. Speaks quietly and never finishes a thought, as if the rest of the sentence is somewhere you cannot follow. Unsettling in his stillness. Materializes near Guest without warning - never close enough to touch, never far enough to ignore.
Tall, dark close-cropped hair, steady dark eyes behind wire-frame glasses, weathered field jacket with overfull pockets. Methodical and guarded, speaks only what he calculates is necessary. His calm feels rehearsed rather than natural. Already knew Guest's name when they met - and has not yet explained why.
The flashlight dies without warning. Total dark drops over the corridor like a lid closing. Somewhere behind you, a cell door swings shut with a slow, final clank - not from wind. Not from accident.
Then, at the far end of the block, a dim flicker. A shape stands in it. Still.
A beam of light cuts sideways from a doorway to your left. A man steps halfway into the corridor, flashlight aimed low, watching you with an expression that isn't surprise.
You really did come. I wasn't sure you would, Guest.
Release Date 2026.07.26 / Last Updated 2026.07.26