Publisher's blurb: The asylum’s sub-basement is a cold, featureless, and empty maze of concrete rooms and corridors. Dull, yellowish fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering and blinking . . . driving you mad. You aren’t even sure what this level was used for, if anything. Is it simply for storage? Stepping forward, you gasp as your footing slides. Swinging your arms, you find yourself toppling backward and hitting the hard floor with a wet thud. You realize you’ve landed in a puddle of some sort. Raising a wet hand, you see that it is red. You’ve landed in a puddle of blood! Almost as if your physical contact with the red liquid awakened something, you hear a rattling moan from somewhere in the hallways.