I could still hear the screams.
It was times like these–when I hear the screams–that I thought that I might not be as sane as I thought I was, and that Anisa was right all along. She always used to say that hidden scars are, without fail, far worse than the ones that can be seen with the naked eye. I'm beginning to regret not listening to her when I had the chance. But that was all before the end of the war. Before the true suffering actually began. Most people in this world believe that no amount of suffering could constitute the amount brought upon the people during a war. But whoever started that idea was a mad bastard who knew nothing of true anguish.
"Tasha, the food is ready!"
A high, effeminate voice jolted me from my torturing memories and I turned my aching neck to the direction of the voice. Albeit I couldn't see her coming towards me, a hint of a smile grazed my cracked lips when the girl stopped next to my white linen hospital bed. At least, I was assuming it was white. I could sense the contagious cheerfulness radiating off of her and I feared being infected by it, but to no prevail. Whenever Saskia was around no one could be anything less than merry. She just had that effect on people. I could hear a tray clatter onto the bedside table directly to the right of me, and with my heightened senses I could tell that whatever was on it was emanating a ridiculously delicious smell of gravy and roasted meat.
"What's it today, Saskia?"
With a pained grunt and a hand holding onto my wounded torso, I struggled to sit up against the creaky bedpost, but with a bit of Saskia's assistance it didn't take too much effort. She laid the tray across my lap and the delicious smells only increased as I heard her remove a lid from one of the containers on the tray.
"Today, Tasha, is a scrumptious cuisine consisting of roasted turkey and mashed potatoes drenched in steaming gravy. Bon appetit!" She gleefully exclaimed and I could practically hear the smile in her joyful voice.
I shook my head at her. "Saskia," I turned my head to what I could only assume was where she was standing. "'Scrumptious meal', my arse! This is the same goddamn thing I've been eating for the last two months!"
I clicked my tongue as she replied to my outburst with a giggle that I–despite myself–found rather cute. What can I say? She's like a little sister to me. It's an older brother's job to find their little sister adorable.
"Oh, just deal with it, Tas. Only two more weeks until you're discharged and free from the constant turkey and potatoes," she said, playfulness and a hint of almost nonexistent sadness in her voice.
"Yeah, yeah…" I grumbled whilst slowly grabbing a spoon from the tray and digging into the island of fluffy mashed potatoes and moat of steaming gravy.
Without even saying goodbye, I heard Saskia skip off into the direction of the exit of the room, leaving me by my lonesome. Well, I guess not completely alone. I've my mashed potatoes and turkey. I sighed in resigned defeat, and just when I was about to take another spoonful of my lovely potato island, a shrill shriek sounded from somewhere just outside my room. I immediately sat upright in the bed, ready to fight anyone that may come inside the room. After a few minutes of listening and waiting, I grew suspicious of what happened. I slowly stood from the bed, vaguely registering the dull ache from the injuries on my torso. I was a confident man. I had fought in the war and survived. I'd seen my fair share of death, and I was certain that I could handle anyone that was human even if they had weapons. In fact, I could even single-handedly take on a goblin. So, all in all, I was very sure of my skills. But nothing could have prepared me for what I smelled once I exited my room. The scent of blood and corpses surrounded me, permeating the entire hallway. The death didn't bother me–I'd been involved in scenes like this way too many times. But this, this was something else.
I stumbled through the hallway, using the wall as support until I felt something hit my foot. I reached down and came in contact with a wet, sticky and all too familiar substance. Blood. After a brief moment, I realized that the thing I had accidently kicked was actually a corpse's head. I traced the features of the face, trying to distinguish who it was and what I felt surprised me. I couldn't feel any distinguishing features whatsoever on the face. Confused, I decided to investigate further. I then moved my hand down the body so as to look for any other wounds and that shocked me even more. The way the corpses had been mutilated was unlike anything I had ever known before; and I've seen Koreans rip Americans right in half. Every single one of the corpses' faces were destroyed far beyond recognition and their bodies were ripped open from the chest all the way down to their pelvises.
Of course I didn't need to throw up or anything, but this scene made even me want to escape back to the safety of my hospital room. Suddenly I remembered that Saskia had been in this hallway mere moments before I heard the scream. Realizing that if all of the corpses were in the same condition as this one then I probably wouldn't be able to find Sakia anywhere among the dead. That is, if she is, in fact, dead. But the one question that kept percolating through my mind was: what or who caused all this havoc?
As if responding to my question, I suddenly felt an eerie warm breath directly on the nape of my neck. I tried not to move. From what I could sense, I hypothesized that the person behind me wasn't actually a person at all. Amongst the smell of blood and rotting flesh, I could vaguely smell a new scent wafting off of the creature behind me. It smelled fishy and scarcely like wet moss. An odd combination, I know, but I have no better way of describing it. I sensed that the being was at least three heads taller than my 5'7" frame and from the way that it was breathing down my neck, I came to the conclusion that it had done some type of taxing activity before it came to me. Killing people was rather tiring, I thought.
I immediately deduced that this creature was the cause of the carnage in the hallway. Realizing this, I refused to move a muscle. Seeing how the creature hadn't attacked me as of yet maybe it, too, couldn't see and only went off of the sounds emitted by humans. Such as, if a person were to see this creature, they would no doubt run away, causing the creature to hear the person and see it as a threat. But then again, this was all just a blind man's useless speculation.
As I thought, the creature never attacked me in those few minutes of complete and utter silence. I had been standing still for a good ten minutes and my injured muscles were beginning to ache even more so than usual. Thankfully, the creature seemed to have heard something further down the hallway for the fishy smell and the warm breath suddenly disappeared from behind me. I wasn't quite sure what the creature heard, whether it was a survivor or something else, but at that time, my survival was what mattered the most to me. For a second, I was reminded of my desperate moments of fighting for survival during the war. Raking a shaking hand through my messy raven hair, I breathed a long sigh of relief before pulling myself back together. I needed to think of a way to escape the hospital, but I needed to do it silently so as not to entice the creature.
I decided to take my hospital slippers off to help with the sound while walking. That would help a bit, but I still needed a way out of the building, which was going to be the hardest part, especially since I didn't know my way around the hospital. Man, I wish Saskia was here. But then again, she's probably one of the many lifeless bodies scattered throughout the halls.
Steeling myself for the journey, I begin quietly shuffling my feet down the hallway whilst holding on to the smooth hospital walls. I began counting my steps so that I could tell how far away from my room I had ventured.
Six…
Ten…
Seventeen…
Along the way, every now and then I would feel a smooth substance stick to my fingers. Knowing what it was, I merely wiped my hands on my hospital clothes, thinking that the horrid creature really did a number on its victims if their blood managed to find its way onto the walls.
Twenty…
Twenty-seven…
Thirty-five…
I hadn't come into contact with the abnormal creature again since I started my trek down the hall. It was suspiciously quiet in the hospital, only allowing my ragged breaths to be heard. I thought it odd for a moment, but quickly disregarded the thought, face-palming at my stupidity. It was quiet? No shit. A violent creature–a monster for sure–was dangerously roaming around, killing anything or anyone that made a sound. No shit it was quiet.
Forty…
This was a long-ass hallway.
Forty-six…
Fifty-three…
I reached the end by my fifty-fourth step. And came face to face with panting breaths and a familiar fishy scent.