He never liked the smell of hospitals. He didn't like the smell of hospital toilets even more.
What he did love was silence, and here, there was plenty of it. Although during the day one might hear a cough or a muffled groan or even rustle, he hoped that at night he could avoid bumping into a guard because he did not like unnecessary victims. Not that his conscience tormented him afterward but… Why?
Before exiting the toilet, he cracked open the door and peered into the corridor. There was no one. It was good that there was lighting here, albeit dim. This would make it easier for him not to get caught. Unlike many, he did not consider darkness useful for dark operations; on the contrary, he preferred to work in the light. Attention, composure—and you can avoid any problem because you see it coming. It's more difficult in the dark.
So, what room is it? Three hundred and ten?
He creeped along the hall, looking for the right number.
So, here it is. Not guarded. Well, that is great! Now the main thing is to make sure the door did not creak.
***
The old TV started up again. There was an interesting program on about white cranes. About how they live, reproduce, and how they were once almost entirely exterminated by poachers, but now, under the control of nature conservation organizations, their population has slowly recovered. The program had been filmed in an exciting yet dramatic manner, and some cranes were even named.
The TV started malfunctioning.
The doctor on duty yawned and walked over to the TV. He moved the antenna, knocked on the top, but it helped nothing. Okay, it doesn't matter. I was going to stretch my legs a little, anyway.
***
Damn, this is a room for two. Yes, and the patients were separated only by a screen, so if the target screams, the second one will definitely wake up, and he would have to get rid of him too… Although, perhaps I could get away without doing so.
The light in the room was turned off, so he had to wait a little for his eyes to get used to the darkness. So, here's the target. Asleep. He recognized him immediately, of course! Such a long and unpleasant conversation with a drunkard is not so easy to erase from memory.
He closed the door, but not wholly, not enough for the lock to click and wake someone up. Stealthily, he went to the bed and, for the second time, made sure that this was the one he needed. There was no mistake.
He pulled a knife from his sleeve. Funny, he hadn't even needed to take such a precaution. He could have worn it on a sheath on his belt.
***
Lazily shuffling in his hospital slippers, the doctor walked along the corridor. He wanted to make sure everything was in order in his department and then go to bed.
Suddenly, he noticed something was wrong and looked closely. A door was not closed. There was a barely noticeable crack, albeit one which should not be there. How strange. He remembered precisely that he had closed it completely, and in this ward, there were no patients who could get up and go to the toilet. They could hardly move at all.
The doctor went to the door.
***
The assassin put the knife to the failed killer's throat.
Oops, did it just get brighter?
"Hey, what are you doing?!"
Startled, his hand twitched—and the knife ripped open the carotid artery. Blood spurted out of it like a fountain.
"Shit!"
The light came on in the room, blinding him, but he managed to see the fleeing silhouette.
"Crap," the killer croaked.
He flew out of the room like a whirlwind and rushed after the man in the white coat. The doctor had managed to escape from him and had now almost reached the door to the stairwell. Damn!
The killer moved even faster, but the doctor was already opening the door to the stairwell. No! Desperately, the killer threw the knife.
"Argh!" the doctor grabbed his thigh with his right hand, with the second he opened the door to the stairwell.
"Oh no, you don't!"
The killer grabbed the door just as it was closing and pull it aside with all his might.
The doctor, bleeding heavily, had already gone down one flight. The killer jumped and landed right on top of his victim. They both rolled head over heels down the stairs. Once on the landing, the killer flipped and dodged and found himself on top. The doctor screamed when his enemy snatched the knife out of his leg and, with lightning speed, struck him two blows to the region of the heart and then a third to the trachea. The scream died out. The assassin automatically delivered three more stabs to the chest before he was deafened by a heart-rending shriek.
He turned in panic and saw a nurse standing on the landing below. The assassin threw the knife at her, but it ricocheted off the railing and flew past her.
"Damn!"
At that moment, the door to the second floor swung open. Behind it were two adult men in white coats and a guard.
Instantly realizing that the situation was a dead end, the killer rushed back. Upstairs! Into the corridor! To the left and into the room!
Think! Think!
The room had a window, but it was on the third floor…
Damn, let's dance!
The assassin grabbed a wooden chair that was near the target's blood-stained bed and rushed to the window. The clink of breaking glass drowned out the sound of the door being kicked in, and the killer noticed a fist flying towards his head almost at the very last moment. Miraculously dodging it, he brought down the chair on the head of the attacking orderly who collapsed on the floor. The rest of the men froze for a moment at the entrance.
"To hell with you all, gentlemen, I'm out of here!"
The assassin threw the chair into the crowd, and then, in one motion, jumped out of the window.