The shadow in the hospital

Spying

Walker was in a trance. The world around him blurred, fading into something nightmarish. He stood frozen, watching in horror as Dr. Graham, the esteemed surgeon, cut into his wife’s belly. The scalpel gleamed under the surgical light, slicing through skin with eerie precision. Then—something unnatural happened. The doctor reached inside and pulled out a grotesque, pulsing mass, slipping it into a small, black box.

Walker tried to scream. Tried to move. But he was locked behind a door, the small 15 by 15 centimeter window his only view into this twisted reality. He pounded on the glass, his breath fogging it up, but no one turned. No one heard him.

The air reeked of antiseptic, but underneath, something foul seeped in—a scent he couldn’t name, something rotting beneath the surface of this hospital.

Then— the vision shattered.

Walker gasped, jolting awake, drenched in sweat. His pulse pounded against his skull like a hammer. It was just a trance. A nightmare. But it felt too real.

His hand flew to his watch. 5:30 AM.

His heart lurched. Elizabeth.

He shot up from the uncomfortable chair, his legs stiff from hours of stillness. The hospital’s sterile white walls seemed too pristine, too unnatural—like a stage set to mask something unspeakable. He moved cautiously, his footsteps light on the cold tiles as he made his way to the female ward.

As he approached, voices whispered from behind a curtain. Urgent. Hushed. Almost desperate.

He tiptoed closer, pressing himself against the wall. His breath hitched.

Then— silence.

The curtain fluttered.

Three nurses stepped out, their gazes sharp as scalpels.

“Sir, you are not supposed to be here,” one of them said, her voice clipped. “Please leave immediately.”

Walker swallowed hard. He wanted to argue. To demand answers. To tell them about the vision. But the weight of their stares pinned him in place. His fingers curled into fists. Not now.

He turned away, but his mind burned with a single thought—What were they hiding?

As he sat back in the dimly lit waiting area, he felt the eyes of other patients on him. Someone lowered a newspaper, watching him closely. Another shifted uncomfortably in their chair. To them, he was a man unraveling. A nuisance. A ticking bomb.

But his instincts screamed that something was wrong.

Outside the Hospital

The faint wail of sirens broke the stillness.

Two ambulances pulled up at the rear of the hospital. The doors swung open, and two tall men stepped out—dressed head to toe in black overalls with hooded caps.

They moved with purpose. Efficiency. Precision.

A hospital worker met them, exchanging a few hushed words before leading them through a rear entrance.

Walker, hidden behind a pillar, watched it all unfold. His pulse quickened.

He followed.

When they reached a machine-card reader door, the men swiped their access cards and disappeared inside.

Walker had no card. No way in.

He clenched his jaw. He would wait.

He found cover in the garage, crouching behind an old parked car. Minutes crawled by. Then—footsteps.

His breath caught.

Six men emerged from the hospital, carrying large white bags.

They moved with caution. Deliberate. Checking their surroundings.

Walker’s stomach twisted.

They opened the ambulance’s rear doors and loaded the bags inside.

He squinted. The bags weren’t transparent. But something inside them shifted.

Then—disaster.

His foot brushed against an empty bottle container.

Crack!

The noise shattered the silence like a gunshot.

The men froze.

One of them turned sharply, eyes narrowing.

"Did you hear that?"

Another man cursed, rushing the loading process.

A torchlight clicked on.

Walker’s pulse hammered in his ears as one of the men approached his hiding spot. The light cut through the shadows, sweeping in a slow, deliberate zigzag.

Walker’s muscles screamed to move. To run. But how far could he get before they caught him?

Could he fight? No chance. They would rip him apart in seconds.

Then—the man bent down, reaching under the car.

Walker’s heartbeat stopped.

Suddenly—

A stray cat darted out from beneath the vehicle.

The man stumbled backward, cursing.

"Goddamn it!"

"Relax," another chuckled. "It’s just a cat."

Walker didn’t breathe. He didn’t dare.

The men hurriedly shut the van’s doors and climbed in. The engines roared to life, and within seconds, the ambulances vanished into the night.

Walker’s lungs sucked in air like a drowning man.

His hands trembled as he crept forward. The area was too clean. Too perfect.

Then—something.

A glove.

Discarded.

Blood-stained.

He knelt down, picking it up. His fingers ran over the fabric, the sticky warmth still fresh.

Before he could process it, a noise snapped him to attention.

He ducked.

A figure emerged from a side door. A nurse.

Walker recognized her. He had seen her before—whispering to the others. The ones hiding something.

She scanned the area, her face hardening.

Then—her eyes locked onto the untied trash bag.

Walker’s blood turned to ice. He had forgotten to retie it.

The nurse’s face twisted. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a phone, and made a call.

Within five minutes, a garbage truck rumbled into the hospital compound.

They emptied the entire trash bin.

Walker watched, sick to his stomach. All evidence—gone.

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. What now? How much worse could this get?

Then—his breath hitched.

A tiny red light flickered above him.

His gaze lifted, following the soft glow to its source.

There—nestled inside the glare of the hospital’s overhead light—a CCTV camera.

Watching. Recording.

Walker’s body went rigid.

His mind screamed—They had seen him.