When investigative podcaster Wren Calder checks into Black Briar Asylum under an alias, the walls start remembering her first. Files rewrite themselves, therapy sessions loop, and a lullaby plays backward through the vents.

Trailer flashes: a corridor that bends like a question mark; ink pooling upward; a metronome ticking without a hand. A doctor who never blinks offers “cure by confession,” while the patients swap names like masks. Wren follows stitched journals to the sub‑basement, where floodlights carve silhouettes that step away from their owners. Sirens swell, sprinklers rain ash, keys corrode in her palm. The asylum won’t let her leave until it decides who she is. Final sting: the EXIT door opens onto a second, identical ward—lights off.