ROOM 108

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…”