The sun was setting when Sarah arrived at Kilang Senyap, its silhouette looming like a dark monster against the horizon. The silence here was deafening. Even the wind seemed to avoid the factory, as if it feared getting too close to its decaying walls.

Sarah stepped through the rusted gates, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She ventured deeper into the factory, her flashlight flickering in the growing darkness. The air was thick, suffocating, as though the factory had swallowed the world around it. The stench of decay clung to the walls, and the distant sound of creaking metal echoed through the empty halls.

But it wasn’t the factory that terrified her—it was the whispers. They started faintly, like a breeze, and then grew louder, swirling around her, just out of reach. Their words were unintelligible, but the tone was unmistakable—threatening, pleading, hungry.

She spun around, trying to locate the source, but there was no one there. Panic began to rise in her chest. Her breath quickened. Get out. Now. But she couldn’t. Her legs wouldn’t move. The whispers were pulling her deeper, dragging her into the heart of the factory.

Then, in the blackest depths, she saw it—a faint glow. A door, barely visible, hidden in the shadows. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, as if urging her forward. Do not go in, a voice screamed inside her, but she couldn’t resist. Her body moved forward against her will.

She reached for the handle of the door, and when it opened, a blast of cold air hit her face. The smell was unbearable—rotting flesh and decay. But Sarah couldn’t turn back now. She stepped inside.