He doesn't know why he did it. Maybe it was for the bragging rights. Maybe it was because he wanted to know what everyone was so afraid of. Maybe it was because he wanted to prove how brave he was. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because of a little ghost girl, and a years-ago game of tag in the woods.
Whatever the reason behind it was, he's beginning to be not entirely sure that breaking into a supposedly haunted abandoned insane asylum was a very good idea.
For one thing, the place seems as if it's near to falling apart. The floor creaks under his feet, and the brickwork of the walls crumbles away as he runs his fingers along them. There's the occasional sharp cracking noise, as another slate rattles from the roof and smashes on the paving stones of the courtyard, and the wind's whistling through the broken windows, setting the lighter doors squeaking on their hinges.
It's creepy enough as it is, even before he begins to hear the voices.
At first he's not sure what they're saying not sure that there even are words but soon enough sentence fragments begin to form out of the chaos, and the blur of noise becomes distinct and separate sounds.
Singing. Laughter. Talking. Sobbing. Shouting. Screaming.
And, as he clenches his fists and bites his lip and weathers the storm of sound and doesn't run (no matter how much his body is telling him to), he begins to pick out one voice in particular among the chaos.
His little ghost girl.