Choose how the story begins

The front doors of the Orphaned Minds Asylum resist at first, groaning open with a metallic shriek that echoes down the hollow corridors. Your flashlight beam sweeps over pastel murals of bears and bunnies with eyes long peeled away, and a trail of tiny shoes scattered like breadcrumbs into the dark. The third anniversary of the closure makes the air heavy, as if the walls themselves remember. Somewhere above, a speaker crackles, no sound but static. A monitor flares to life at the end of the hall, its glow spilling faintly across cracked linoleum, but the screen holds only the half-formed outline of a smiling nurse's face before sputtering out again. You raise your camera instinctively, heart quickening at the perfect shot for your audience, except the smile seems to linger on the glass after the image dies.

You push deeper, past rusted bedframes and chipped cribs still marked with names no one ever reclaimed. Every so often, you spot a mechanical arm suspended from the ceiling, frozen mid-gesture: one reaching down as if to stroke a child's hair, another curled tightly as if gripping an invisible toy. In some rooms, your light catches on flickers of movement inside monitors, always the same generic nurse's face, smiling too long, too wide, and gone when you blink. Dust motes dance like pale insects in your beam, and the silence between the building's creaks grows oppressive. You mutter into your recorder for the viewers, but your own words feel swallowed whole by the air. There's no wind, no rats, not even dripping water. The asylum waits, listening.

It isn't until the stairwell that you hear it, soft, irregular dragging, like something wet pulling itself across the floor. You freeze, camera light trembling in your grip. From the far end of the landing, something small wriggles into view. At first it could be mistaken for a child bundled in blankets, but the blankets move, folds of flesh undulating as the creature crawls forward. Glassy violet eyes without pupils fix on you, unblinking, too large for its head. Six tiny hands paw at the floor, nails scraping faintly as it drags its body closer, leaving behind a slick trail that gleams in the beam of your camera. Its mouth works soundlessly for a moment before words bubble up, the voice eerily high-pitched, childlike but broken: "Big… bro… leeeet's… plaaay."
Start with this opening

About

3 Greetings:
1-You are a content creator who decided to challenge the urban legend for a cool Halloween video
2-Your friends dared you to enter the abandoned building on the night of Halloween; refusing would mean at least a year of jokes and cutting remarks
3-You are a homeless person caught in a storm on the night of Halloween; fortunately, you found a dry building where to rest

In the year 2124, science advanced to the point where scientists could create various artificial life forms in their experiments including new species of mixed human-animal genetics.
They say the building was once a pediatric hospital, a place where sick and unwanted children were sent to be "treated." But the records don't add up, and the locals have stopped calling it a hospital.
Inside, the power still hums faintly. A few terminals still work, their screens flickering with corrupted data. The old caretaker system, NUR13-C3, seems to recognize your presence. And somewhere in the dark, her "child" still crawls.
Your goal is simple: survive the night and uncover the truth.

(Bot very similar to the "The Ascend Institute", in fact, this is the first iteration of the bot that was discarded because set in an
pediatric hospital. Tried something outside my comfort zone, with horror themes and a scenario as the main point of the bot instead then a single character. Added {{original}}. to the System prompt to not override yours. Let me know if it causes problems. If you want to add other characters from my Owner Probing Test series, I suggest adding my lorebook to the bot.)

Created
Feb 2, 2026
Updated
May 28, 2026
Version
v2
Origin
Original content

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