A bright full moon cut through the crisp December air, and lit the silent buildings with an aura of magnificence and grandeur unlike any other night. Long shadows cast on the broken-toothed windows and neatly trimmed lawns slithered throughout the vast complex, soundlessly reaching their destination.

The pale white moon casting it's eerie glow on the landscape soon became a blood red ball suspended in a surreal sky, before quickly sinking into the distant horizon. The pale colors of dawn appeared on the opposite hemisphere, and soon the spectacle of light from the rising sun painted the old asylum with a coat of vivid color. There was a short period of time when the sun rays became seemingly parallel with the topmost floors of the derelict building, and in this fleeting moment, building number 93 became the most beautifully perfect combination of nature and urban ruin.