The Last Hospital in the Monster World

The smell hit him first—a thick, cloying mixture of ozone, damp rot, and something metallic that tasted like copper on his tongue.

Samuel Pranata blinked, his eyelids feeling as heavy as lead. He was lying on a cold, cracked linoleum floor. Above him, the fluorescent lights flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz, casting erratic shadows across a room that had seen better decades. He pushed himself up, his muscles screaming in protest. Every joint felt like it had been filled with ground glass.

"Ugh, what the hell?" he groaned, his voice raspy and foreign to his own ears. "Where am I?"

He scanned the room. It was a hospital ward, or at least, what remained of one. The walls were scarred with deep, jagged gouges that looked like they had been carved by massive claws. Beds were overturned, their metal frames twisted into grotesque sculptures. A singular, broken window offered a glimpse of a sky bruised with shades of violet and sickly green.

"Is someone there?" he called out, his pulse quickening. "Hello? Is this some kind of prank?"

Silence. Only the faint, distant sound of something heavy dragging against concrete echoed through the hallway.

Samuel scrambled to his feet, gripping the edge of a tipped-over gurney for support. His vision swam. "I don't remember coming here. I was at the office. I was just... working."

He stumbled toward the door, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The hallway was a graveyard of medical equipment and debris. He wasn't alone, though. A low, wet wheezing sound emanated from a supply closet at the end of the corridor.

"Hey? Are you hurt?" Samuel shouted, taking a cautious step forward. "I’m a doctor—I mean, I think I am. I can help."

He reached the closet and kicked the door open. Inside, slumped against a stack of moldy linens, was a creature. It wasn't human. It was covered in matted, obsidian-colored fur, its limbs elongated and terminating in serrated talons. But it was small, clearly a juvenile, and a jagged piece of rebar had pinned its thigh to the floor. It hissed at him, showing rows of needle-like teeth, but the sound lacked conviction. It was dying.

"Whoa, easy there, buddy," Samuel said, holding up his hands. He felt a weird, detached instinct take over. "I'm not going to hurt you. Let me look at that leg."

The creature stared at him with wide, bioluminescent golden eyes. It let out a pained, warbling trill.

"Yeah, that looks bad," Samuel muttered, kneeling down despite the terror crawling up his spine. "You’re lucky you ran into me. Or, well, whoever I am today."

[System Initialization Complete.]

The blue, holographic text bloomed in the air before his eyes, making him recoil.

[Welcome, User. Role: Field Surgeon.]

[Objective: Stabilize the Subject.]

[Reward: Basic First Aid Kit, 10 Evolution Points.]

"What the... am I hallucinating?" Samuel shook his head, pressing his palms into his eyes. "First the end of the world, now I'm seeing HUDs from a video game? Great. Just perfect."

The creature whimpered, nudging its leg toward him.

"Alright, alright," Samuel sighed, his hands shaking as he reached for a roll of gauze lying in the debris. "If I’m going insane, I might as well be a helpful crazy person. You’ve got a nasty gash, haven't you?"

He worked quickly, his movements surprisingly fluid despite his confusion. He pulled the rebar free with a sharp tug, ignoring the creature’s sharp yelp of pain.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized, his tone softening. "Almost done. Just hold still."

He cleaned the wound with a bottle of antiseptic he found on the floor, his brain feeling like it was being rewired as a series of medical diagrams flashed before his eyes. It was like he suddenly knew exactly how to treat an injury he had never seen before.

[Subject stabilized. Evolution Points earned: 10.]

[New Recipe Unlocked: Hemostatic Synthesis.]

"Hemostatic what now?" Samuel stared at the glowing text. "You want me to make medicine? Out of what? Scraps?"

He looked around the closet. There were half-empty beakers, some stagnant water, and a few packets of strange, glowing moss that had grown through the floorboards.

"Okay," Samuel murmured, scratching his head. "If this is a game, let’s see how far the rabbit hole goes. Synthesis, huh?"

He began grabbing items, tossing them into an old, dented stainless-steel basin. He mixed the moss with a drop of the antiseptic and a crushed bit of plastic. The liquid hissed and turned a vibrant, toxic-looking shade of neon orange.

"This looks like something that should be in a hazardous waste bin," Samuel noted, swirling the concoction. "But hey, the System says it works, right?"

He dipped his finger into the liquid to test the consistency. The moment it touched his skin, a sharp, searing pain shot up his arm, as if he’d plunged his hand into a furnace.

"Ow! Dammit!" He yanked his hand back, gasping. His fingertip was already blistering, the skin turning a deep, angry charcoal color. "What the hell? It’s corrosive? You call this medicine?"

[Warning: Incompatible reagent detected. Serum requires stabilization.]

"No kidding, it requires stabilization!" Samuel snapped at the empty air, cradling his burnt hand. "I’m bleeding and melting here!"

He fumbled for the bandage, trying to wrap his hand, his frustration mounting into a cold, hard knot of fear. This wasn't a game. It was a meat grinder.

Before he could process the burning in his hand or the absurdity of the creature watching him with wide, intelligent eyes, the ground beneath them lurched.

It wasn't a small tremor. It felt like the very foundation of the earth had cracked. The hospital groaned, metal screeching against metal as the entire building tilted. Dust rained down from the ceiling in thick, suffocating clouds.

Samuel fell backward, sliding across the floor as the walls began to spiderweb with massive, deep fractures. Outside, a sound like a volcanic eruption tore through the air—a guttural, earth-shaking roar that silenced everything else in the city.

Samuel clutched his side, eyes wide as he stared at the wall, which was now bowing inward, threatening to collapse entirely.

"Please," he whispered, his voice trembling as he looked at the beast, which had hunkered down, terrified. "Tell me that wasn't what I think it was."

The floor bucked again, throwing him into the center of the room. The silence that followed was worse than the noise. Somewhere deep in the guts of the hospital, something massive was breathing, and it was moving toward them.