This is a story not novel, but there is no story functions, this is the one & only Chapter

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The Rumor

In the small, tight-knit town of Frolinwille, a sinister rumor had persisted for generations. Whispers of a serial killer lurking in the shadows of a 175-year-old abandoned mental hospital filled the townspeople with dread. It was said that anyone who dared to enter the hospital would never return. This eerie tale had been passed down through the years, growing more chilling with each retelling.

One cold, stormy night, when the rain was pouring down in torrents and the wind howled like a chorus of lost souls, a group of brave teenagers decided to put an end to the rumor once and for all. They were led by Jake, a tall, athletic boy with a knack for adventure, and his best friend, Emily, who was known for her fearless spirit. Along with them were Alex, a tech-savvy genius, and Lisa, who always seemed to have a camera in her hand, ready to document every moment.

Despite their brave front, a sense of unease settled over the group as they approached the dilapidated hospital. The building loomed ominously in the darkness, its broken windows and crumbling facade a testament to years of neglect. "This place gives me the creeps," Alex muttered, his voice barely audible over the storm.

As they stepped inside, the teenagers were greeted by an eerie silence, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. The air was thick with dust, and the scent of decay lingered. They ventured deeper into the hospital, their flashlights casting long, dancing shadows on the peeling walls. Suddenly, they stumbled upon a scene that made their blood run cold—scattered bones and dark stains that told of a gruesome past. But their horror was short-lived, for unbeknownst to them, the serial killer was lurking nearby, watching their every move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The killer, a shadowy figure with a twisted mind, had been hiding in the hospital for years, evading capture and feeding on the fear of those who dared to enter. As the teenagers continued their exploration, two of them, overwhelmed by fear, decided they couldn't go on. Sarah and Tom, the youngest and most impressionable of the group, fled the hospital, leaving Jake, Emily, Alex, and Lisa behind.

As Sarah and Tom made their way to the police station, the remaining teenagers pressed on, determined to uncover the truth. But their courage was met with brutality. The killer struck with calculated precision, taking them out one by one. The hospital echoed with their screams, which were quickly swallowed by the storm outside.

Sarah and Tom burst into the police station, drenched and frantic. "You have to help us!" Sarah cried. "Our friends are in the old hospital! There's a killer in there!"

The officer on duty, a grizzled man named Deputy Collins, looked skeptical. "Kids, that hospital's been abandoned for years. No one's seen anything there in decades."

"But we heard them!" Tom insisted. "You have to believe us!"

Deputy Collins sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, I'll send a couple of officers to check it out. But you two need to stay put."

Frustrated and desperate, Sarah and Tom decided they couldn't wait. They left the station and sought out a group of friends they trusted—teens who wouldn't back down. They found Mark, a burly football player, and Jenny, a quick-witted girl known for her resourcefulness. Together, they hatched a plan to capture the killer and bring him to justice.

As they gathered supplies and weapons, the killer, from his hidden vantage point in the hospital, watched their every move. He knew they were coming and relished the challenge. The trap was set, and he was ready.

The new group of teenagers approached the hospital with grim determination. Mark led the way, holding a bat, while Jenny and Tom carried ropes and makeshift weapons. Sarah, her heart pounding, kept a lookout.

Inside, the killer waited in the shadows, his eyes gleaming with malevolent delight. But the teenagers were prepared. As they entered the hospital, they moved with caution, sticking close together. The killer advanced slowly, brandishing a weapon, but the teenagers executed their plan with precision.

They circled the killer, using their numbers to their advantage. As he lunged, they ensnared him with ropes, binding him to a chair. Mark, his hands shaking, looked at the others. "What do we do now?"

Jenny, her voice firm, said, "We call the police. Let them deal with him."

But as they reached for their phones, the killer, ever resourceful, produced a hidden butter knife from his pocket. In a swift, brutal motion, he freed himself and turned the blade on his captors. Panic ensued as he struck, cutting down the teenagers one by one.

By the time the police arrived, summoned by Deputy Collins who had grown uneasy, it was too late. The killer had vanished, leaving behind a scene of carnage. Bodies lay scattered, and one head was conspicuously missing.

The officers searched the hospital, their flashlights piercing the gloom. In one room, they found an old man, his eyes wide with terror. He had been hiding in the hospital for fifty years, traumatized by the horrors he had witnessed. "Please," he begged, "let me go. I can't stay here any longer."

With no trace of the killer and the old man too traumatized to provide useful information, the police made a decision. They sealed the hospital, declaring it off-limits to all. Some townspeople believed the killer had fled for good, while others whispered that he still lurked in the shadows, waiting for his next victim.

In the aftermath, the town of Frolinwille remained haunted by the events of that stormy night. The rumor of the serial killer persisted, a dark thread woven into the fabric of their community. And as the years passed, the abandoned hospital stood as a silent reminder of the terror that had unfolded within its walls, a place where nightmares still lingered and the shadows never truly lifted.