Adrian ran as fast as his legs could carry him, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the sterile walls of the hospital corridor. His lungs burned with each ragged breath, and his mind churned with an unsettling cocktail of fear and confusion. The memory of the man's lifeless eyes and the word marked rang in his ears, louder than the pounding of his heart.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Adrian burst through the door of the stairwell. He slammed it shut behind him, his back pressing against the cool metal as he tried to calm his racing pulse. His chest heaved, and for a few moments, the only sound was the rhythmic beat of his own heart, thudding in his ears. The silence that followed was unnerving, making him wonder if the strange, decaying figure would appear from the shadows, following him even here.
But nothing moved.
Taking a deep breath, Adrian forced himself to focus. The situation was spinning out of control, and he needed answers. He couldn't ignore the feeling creeping into his gut—the notion that the hospital itself wasn't what it seemed. Something malevolent lurked within its walls, and it was no longer content with remaining in the shadows. It was beginning to reach out, to touch those who dared come close.
But what had drawn it to him?
His thoughts circled back to the girl in Room 413. She had been the starting point—the first sign that something dark was unfolding. And now that Adrian had seen the mysterious figure in the hallway, his mind raced with unsettling questions: Was the girl marked too? Was she another victim? Or had she been a conduit for something far worse?
Adrian pushed himself off the door and began descending the stairs, each step filled with the weight of his dread. He needed to see the girl again, to understand the connection between her and the chilling events that seemed to be escalating by the minute. The hospital seemed more like a maze now, a living, breathing entity with secrets hidden in every corner.
But the deeper he went, the heavier the air became. It was as if the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating him in their silence. He arrived at the fourth floor, his hand shaking slightly as he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
The corridor was dark, lit only by the dim emergency lights that cast long, flickering shadows against the walls. It was eerily quiet, too quiet for a hospital. The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy blanket of unease that made every hair on Adrian's body stand on end.
The door to Room 413 loomed ahead, standing slightly ajar. Adrian's stomach twisted as he approached it, his pulse quickening with every step. He gently pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges piercing through the stillness.
Inside, the girl lay exactly as he'd left her—pale, fragile, her face expressionless as her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. The monitors beside her beeped steadily, the only sound breaking the eerie quiet of the room. But something felt different this time, something Adrian couldn't quite place. It was as if an unseen force lingered in the corners of the room, watching, waiting.
As he moved closer to the bed, Adrian's gaze fell upon the girl's arm. A faint mark, barely noticeable under the dim light, marred her skin just below her wrist. It was anr odd shape, almost like a brand—intricate, swirling lines forming a symbol that seemed ancient, unnatural.
His heart skipped a beat. Marked.
The word came back to him, sharp and clear in his mind. His thoughts spiraled, his rational mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. This was no ordinary medical condition. This was something far beyond his realm of understanding.
Suddenly, the girl's eyes snapped open.
Adrian staggered back, his breath catching in his throat. Her once dull, vacant eyes were now wide and alert, their black depths filled with an intensity that chilled him to the bone. She stared directly at him, her gaze unblinking, as if she could see straight through him—through his skin, his bones, to the very core of his being.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The tension in the air thickened, and Adrian could feel the weight of her stare pressing down on him. It was as if she were trying to communicate something, something beyond words, something primal and ancient.
And then, she spoke.
"He's coming."
Her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and cracked, but the words cut through the silence like a knife. Adrian felt a shiver crawl down his spine. His hands trembled, the memory of the man in the hallway still fresh in his mind. He was about to ask who, but before he could, the girl's body went limp, her eyes rolling back into her head as she fell unconscious once again.
Adrian's mind reeled. He's coming. Who was she talking about? Who—or what—was coming? The questions buzzed like hornets in his head, but he had no answers. Only fear.
The monitors beside her bed began to beep erratically, the rhythm of her heartbeat quickening. Adrian's instincts kicked in, and he rushed to the equipment, trying to assess what was happening. But no sooner had he touched the controls than the lights in the room flickered violently before plunging the entire floor into darkness.
For a few heartbeats, the world was nothing but pitch black. Adrian's pulse thundered in his ears, and he stood frozen, his mind racing. Then, in the distance, a sound pierced the silence.
Footsteps.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder with each passing second. They reverberated through the walls, the slow, steady thud sending chills through Adrian's body. He turned toward the door, his breath caught in his throat.
Someone—or something—was approaching.
Adrian reached for his phone, but it was still dead, its screen refusing to light up. He cursed under his breath, his mind scrambling for an escape plan. He couldn't stay here—not with that thing coming closer. He needed to move, and fast.
As the footsteps drew nearer, Adrian's heart raced. He couldn't tell if they were human or something far worse, but the oppressive feeling that accompanied them left no doubt in his mind. This was the force that had been haunting the hospital, the thing that had marked the girl—and now, him.
Without another second to spare, Adrian slipped out of the room, his body moving on pure instinct. He pressed his back against the wall, inching toward the stairwell as the footsteps grew deafeningly loud. His breath was shallow, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He reached the end of the hallway, his eyes darting toward the source of the noise. And then, just as suddenly as they had started, the footsteps stopped.
Adrian froze, his body trembling with fear. The silence that followed was almost worse than the sound itself, a suffocating void that pressed down on him. He strained his ears, listening for any sign of movement, but there was none.
For what felt like an eternity, Adrian stood there, his back against the wall, his mind racing. Was it gone? Had it moved on?
Then, in the faint light cast by the emergency exit sign, Adrian saw it.
A figure stood at the end of the hallway, its silhouette barely visible in the darkness. Tall and thin, its form seemed to flicker in and out of focus, as though it were both there and not there at the same time. Its face was obscured by shadows, but its eyes—glowing faintly—were fixed directly on him.
Adrian's blood ran cold.
The figure didn't move, didn't speak. It just watched him, its presence filling the air with an overwhelming sense of dread.
Adrian's breath hitched in his throat. The urge to run, to escape, clawed at him, but his legs felt like lead. He was trapped, caught in the gaze of something far beyond his comprehension.
And then, without a sound, the figure took a step forward.
Adrian didn't wait. He bolted down the stairs, the sound of his own heartbeat drowning out everything else. Whatever that thing was, it was closing in on him, and there was nowhere left to hide.