0:00 – 1:00] – Intro: “Check-In” (Echoed footsteps, intercom hum, whispered questions, and a loud door slam. Dialogue is layered with static, ambient drone, and subtle heartbeat FX.) Intercom (glitched): “Now admitting… Patient 108… prepare for intake.” Intake Nurse: “Name?” “Pete.” “Reason for admittance?” “…She said I stopped blinking.” “Any hallucinations?” “Just the truth.” “Last dose of medication?” “Didn’t take it.” “We’ll fix that.” (A metal door slams. Static rises. Then silence. Then:) Whisper (in your voice): “Welcome inside the ward.” ⸻ 🎸 [1:01 – on] – Full Song Begins Verse 1 Locked in a room with a window to nowhere They’re watching me breathe like I’m part of the show The mirror blinks once, then it whispers my secrets But I don’t remember letting them go Pre-Chorus Pills in a paper cup, hands in restraints I counted each crack in the wall like saints Chorus Room 108 — where the silence screams No exit signs, just broken dreams Tried to escape but the doors all lie And the voice in the vent says I already died ⸻ Verse 2 They labeled my mind with a barcode and number My thoughts get erased every time I sleep Voices are climbing the vents like thunder One of them’s mine, but it’s buried deep Pre-Chorus Nurses with needles, smiles stitched tight Whispers say we’re the cure, but nothing feels right Chorus Room 108 — where the shadows crawl Walls talk back and the ceiling falls Scream all you want, there’s no reply And the voice in the vent says I never was alive ⸻ Bridge (Instrumental drops out — whispered vocals over eerie clean guitar) “You’re not crazy…” “You’re just… inconvenient.” “You never left that room.” “You were never born at all.” (crescendo — distorted guitar punches back in) ⸻ Final Chorus (Heavier, scream backing) Room 108 — where the lights go black I clawed my name on the ceiling cracks Nobody’s real but the pain I feel And the voice in the vent says this is realer than real ⸻ Outro (SFX fadeout: footsteps walking away, someone laughing from inside a vent, light flickering, then silence) Final whisper: “Next patient, please…”

ROOM 108