Cold Air

Night had fallen by the time they arrived at the base of the mountain, where the mental hospital stood. 

The road winding upward was steep, devoid of any signs of human activity stretching for miles around. The desolation was further emphasized by the biting cold air, creating an eerie atmosphere that seemed to permeate the entire landscape. 

The only source of light on the road was George's truck's headlights, casting a solitary beam that cut through the darkness, illuminating the lonely stretch of road ahead. 

According to George, the lack of people around was normal.

The entire mountain was owned by the mental hospital, and its notorious reputation meant that no one in their right mind would choose to live in such close proximity to the institution. 

"How about we play some music?" George suggested, his voice tinged with weariness from the long drive.

"Sure," Reign agreed with a nod.