That night, Lucas returned to the psychiatric ward.
He knew the security guards well enough, and luck seemed to be on his side. They were decent people, the kind who looked out for him even when they did not have to.
As he passed the security post, David waved at him. The old man was sitting inside, watching the CCTV screens while eating chips, his posture relaxed as if nothing in this place could ever truly surprise him anymore.
"What are you doing here so late?" David asked. "You got a night shift?"
Lucas glanced at Daniel as well, the younger guard sitting beside him. He was about the same age as Lucas, a little overweight, always friendly, always offering snacks whenever they crossed paths.
"I left something behind," Lucas said. "I need to grab it."
David studied him for a moment, longer than necessary, before stepping closer and holding out a jacket.
"You're dressed too thin. It's cold tonight. Take this and go home after."
Lucas hesitated, caught off guard by the gesture. "I… I really need to go now. It's my phone. It's important."
"You can get it tomorrow," David replied, worry creeping into his voice. "This place isn't the same at night. You might not notice it yet, since you're new."
Lucas shook his head. "No. I need to go."
David reached out and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Son," he said quietly, "whatever you're about to do, it's not the answer."
"Huh?"
Lucas stiffened. A strange feeling settled in his chest, the sense that the old man somehow knew what he intended to do and was trying to stop him. The thought unsettled him. Was David like Layla? Someone with a sixth sense?
But it felt different.
Unlike Layla's cold, suffocating presence, David felt warm. Lucas could not see anything unusual, but he felt it anyway, as if the old man were surrounded by something gentle and steady, like light.
Still, Lucas had already made his choice.
He was done living trapped in the same hole. If summoning a demon was what it took to become stronger, to take revenge, then he would do it.
"Thank you, David," Lucas said softly. "But I've already decided."
He handed the jacket back, turned away, and walked through the gate toward the ward without looking back.
David's words followed him in silence.
The old man had been right. The psychiatric ward was nothing like it was during the day. The air felt heavier, colder, as if the building itself had changed its mood.
Even the hallway lamps, glowing softly along the ceiling, failed to illuminate certain patches of darkness.
Lucas hugged himself as he walked, shivering. This place felt colder than the snowstorm outside.
He headed toward the elevator, passing the administrative booth. Shadows flickered at the edge of his vision, stretching and retreating when he tried to look directly at them. He ignored them and pressed the elevator button.
The doors slid open and Lucas stepped inside. The elevator doors slid shut behind him, and almost immediately he realized he was not alone.
The air felt wrong, heavy against his skin. He sensed someone standing behind him and turned slightly.
He was right. A woman stood there, her long black hair covering her face, hanging all the way down to the floor.
"Can you…" she spoke softly, and the sound froze him in place. "Can you help me get back home?"
Lucas didn't answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the glowing numbers beside the door, silently begging the elevator to move faster.
"Hey," the woman continued, drifting closer. "Can you hear me?"
He swallowed hard as her voice drew nearer. Her head tilted forward until her face hovered inches from his.
From the mirror wall, Lucas could see the ghost's neck stretched unnaturally, bending with a freedom no human body should have. Empty eye sockets stared straight into him.
"You can see me, can't you?"
Lucas forgot how to breathe. His hands clenched at his sides as his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
A deep wound split her face open, blood pouring freely from it and dripping onto the floor. There was too much of it. The blood pooled and spread, sticky under his shoes, as if the small cubicle was slowly filling, ready to drown him.
DING.
The doors finally opened.
Lucas stumbled out and immediately saw that the hallway lights had turned red, bathing the corridor in a hellish glow. He could barely see more than a few meters ahead, shadows swallowing the rest.
He didn't care as he kept running like a mad man and stopped only when he reached room 303.
He slammed his access card against the lock, shoved the door open, rushed inside, and closed it tightly behind him.
He leaned against the door, chest heaving, fighting to catch his breath.
The room was red too.
Layla knelt in the center of it, her hands slick with blood as she traced symbols across the floor. A pentagram took shape beneath her fingers. In the corner lay a corpse.
A man.
Lucas recognized him immediately. "What the hell…" he whispered.
It was Jordan, one of the doctors. Everyone knew who he was and the crimes he had done in this hospital for a long time.
The rumors of assault, the whispered accusations that went nowhere because his father was the hospital director. Everything had been buried.
Beside the body, the ghost woman Lucas had seen earlier laughed uncontrollably, her broken face twisting with joy as if she were celebrating his death.
"Oh, you finally came," Layla said, rising to her feet and placing her hands on her waist, as if she had just finished a tiring chore.
"You killed him?" Lucas asked, his voice hollow.
"Yes," Layla replied casually as she walked toward a shelf and took several candles from it.
"There are many patients here. Even ghosts. A lot of them wanted him dead."
She handed Lucas a candle, then pulled a lighter from her pocket and lit the flame in his hand.
"Asmodei is a demon of wrath, lust, and destructive urges," Layla continued, smiling. "That's why someone like him is perfect for the first sacrifice."
"I thought you wanted to sacrifice half the people here," Lucas said slowly, still staring at the body.
"That too," Layla replied. "The summoning becomes successful when this hospital descends into madness. No one can endure the power of a demon like Asmodei."
Her smile never faded. "This place is perfect. The rifts here are thin."
"Rifts?" Lucas asked as he followed her movements.
She pointed to different angles of the pentagram, guiding him where to place the candles.
"There is a seal," Layla explained. "A boundary between this world and the abyss. Rifts are places closest to that seal. When they open, demons can cross."
She grinned, eyes shining.
"I'm glad my foolish parents locked me in this hospital." Her hands clenched tightly. "I can't wait to see their faces when I kill them."