The grandeur of the hotel lobby clashed with the chaos of the scene. Glittering chandeliers hung above the shattered remains of what had once been a lavish party. Blood smeared the marble floors, mingling with spilled champagne and abandoned high heels. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance as paramedics worked feverishly among the groaning, weeping survivors.
Allison Foster stepped through the carnage, her ponytail swinging as she barked instructions to her team. Her hazel eyes were sharp, scanning every corner for signs of life. Though she was no stranger to emergencies, this scene sent a chill down her spine. Something about it didn't sit right.
"Check the left wing," she ordered, tugging at her gloves. "And get someone to stabilize the man by the fountain before he goes into shock."
Her colleague, Jonah, nodded and jogged off, leaving Allison to focus on the woman clinging to her arm. The woman's makeup streaked down her face, her trembling lips mouthing the same phrase over and over.
"They came... in... they—"
Allison tried to soothe her. "Ma'am, breathe. Help is here. Who came? What happened?"
But the woman only shuddered and clutched tighter, her nails digging into Allison's arm.
It was then she heard it—a faint groan, barely audible over the chaos. Allison stiffened, her ears straining. The sound came again, this time like a low rumble from somewhere deep within the building.
She turned to Jonah, who had returned to her side, his face streaked with sweat. "Did you hear that?" she asked.
"Hear what?" Jonah wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "The screaming? The crying? Yeah, I'm hearing it all, thanks."
"No," Allison insisted, her brow furrowing. "A groan. Like... a man groaning. From over there." She gestured toward a hallway draped in shadows.
Jonah frowned, his confusion plain. "Allison, people are making all kinds of noises. What's different about this one?"
She stepped closer to him, lowering her voice. "It's not the same."
Jonah stared at her, then glanced down the hallway. "You're imagining things. It's probably just an echo. Let it go."
But Allison shook her head, her instincts screaming at her to investigate. "I'm going."
Jonah grabbed her arm. "Allison, we have twenty-plus victims out here. You can't just wander off because you think you heard something."
She tugged free, her jaw set. "I'm not imagining it, Jonah. Give orders to the other paramedics to take the one already in the trucks away."
"Allison!" he called after her, but she was already moving.
The hallway grew darker with each step, she switched on her flashlight to scan the dim hall as she walked through but the flashlight itself was dim. The groan sounded again, louder this time. Her pulse quickened. She gripped the radio at her shoulder, ready to call for backup if needed, then followed the sound, her boot clicking softly on the marble floor
"Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing eerily. "Is anyone there?"
The door at the end of the hallway loomed ahead, slightly ajar. She nudged it open with her foot, her heart thudding in her chest.
"Hello?" she tried again, stepping inside. The groan came once more, this time directly behind her.
Amara whirled around, her eyes wide. Nothing. Just the shadows of the room, stretching and twisting in the faint light.
"Great," she muttered to herself. "Now I'm hearing ghosts."
She moved further into the room, her foot catching on something. She stumbled, catching herself on a chair. Looking down, she saw the source of her trip—a man's arm sticking out from beneath the drapes.
"Oh, hell no," she whispered, her stomach flipping.
She crouched and pulled the drapes aside to reveal a man lying on the floor. His suit was torn and bloody, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and blood. His face was mostly obscured, save for his mouth, which was partially open, his labored breathing rattling in the stillness. Blood seeped from his side, pooling beneath him, and his hands trembled as they pressed feebly against the wound.
"Sir?" Allison said, her voice softening. "Can you hear me?"
The man's lips moved, but no sound came out. Allison's training kicked in. She reached for him without hesitation, pressing the radio at her shoulder. "Poppy, I need a stretcher to the east wing, stat. I've got a live one here."
The man's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with surprising strength. She yelped, nearly dropping her flashlight.
"I don't need help," he rasped, his voice low and hoarse, like gravel scrapping against metal.
Allison frowned, tugging her hand free. "Excuse me? You're bleeding everywhere. You do need help." She reached for him again, but he pushed her hand away, baring his bloodstained teeth in a grimace.
"I said I'm fine," His words clipped and sharp. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he spoke.
Allison huffed, crossing her arms. "Oh sure. 'Fine' looks exactly like bleeding out and barely being able to sit upright. You're a medical marvel." She leaned closer, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "Listen, I've seen a lot of stubborn idiots in my career, but you're topping the list right now. You're hurt. Let me do my job."
The man glared at her from beneath his dark, sweat-matted hair. His entire frame shook, whether from pain or effort, she couldn't tell. "Get... away..."
"Not happening," Allison shot back, kneeling beside him despite his protest. She pulled a pair of scissors from her kit and began cutting away his ruined suit jacket to get a better look at his injuries.
"Stop," he ground out, his voice cracking. He attempted to swat her hands away, but his strength was failing.
"Yeah, no. You can thank me later," Allison muttered, ignoring him. Then her hands worked quickly, her gloved fingers deftly a gauze against the man's side to stem the bleeding.
Poppy's voice crackled through the radio. "Allison? Did you say you found another victim? Do you need assistance?"
"Yes, Poppy, I need a stretcher," Allison replied, keeping her eyes on the man. "And maybe some restraints for this one. He's fighting me every step of the way. Get here fast."
Poppy's voice crackled through the radio again. "On my way, Allison."
The man's chest heaved as he chuckled weakly, the sound more of a growl than laughter. "You've got... guts," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"And you've got too much blood loss to be making jokes," She snapped, pressing harder on the wound. His body tensed, and he let out a hiss of pain through his clenched teeth.
His head lolled to the side, and for a moment, she thought he'd passed out. But then he spoke, his voice soft but sharp. "Leave me... and go. You'll regret this."
Allison rolled her eyes. "Yeah, not happening. I don't leave people to die. I've been dealing with stubborn men and life-threatening injuries for years. You're nothing new."
His hand twitched as if he wanted to shove her away again, but his strength was rapidly failing. "You're... making a mistake," he rasped, his breath rattling.
Allison's jaw tightened. "The only mistake I've made today is not bringing duct tape for your mouth. Now shut up and let me work."
The man didn't respond, his head slumping against the wall. Panic flickered in her chest, but she shook it off, leaning closer to check his pulse. It was weak but steady.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway and Allison let out a breath of relief. "Finally," she muttered.
Poppy appeared in the doorway, her talk frame silhouetted by the dim flashlight. She carried a stretcher with another paramedic trailing behind her. "What the hell is going on here?" Poppy asked, her voice mixed with confusion and exasperation.
Allison glanced up, her hands still firmly pressed against the man's side. "Meet Mr. Stubborn. He thinks he's invincible but forgot to tell his body."
Poppy frowned as she took in the man's condition. "He looks half-dead."
"Tell him that," Allison quipped. "He's been trying to convince me he's fine."
The man's lip curled into a faint sneer. "I am... fine," he muttered, though his voice was barely audible.
Poppy raised an eyebrow. "Sure you are, champ. Let's get you out of here before 'fine' turns into 'flatline.'"
The team moved quickly, easing the man onto the stretcher despite his feeble attempts to resist. Allison stayed close, her sharp eyes catching every detail. His face remained mostly hidden by his hair, but something about him unsettled her.