"Hold on, Lizzy. I see it! We’re gonna make it!” Walker’s voice wavered, but he forced confidence into it. His legs trembled beneath Elizabeth’s weight, his breath ragged. The light ahead belonged to an old hospital—if it could still be called that. The building loomed in the darkness, its walls cracked and worn, windows shattered like forgotten memories. Peeling paint curled from the surface like dead skin. But Walker didn’t care. Help was inside. It had to be. He stumbled forward, nearly collapsing against the rusted barbed wire fence surrounding the hospital. His strength was gone, his arms numb, but he held on—held onto her. “Help! Somebody, please!” he screamed, his voice raw. Silence. Rain dripped from the eaves, the only sound in the empty night. Then— A faint groan. Walker’s heart lurched. He almost dropped Elizabeth in shock. It was the first sound she’d made in over an hour. “Lizzy?” His grip tightened. “Did you hear me? We’re here, baby! Stay with me!” No respon

Walker sat by Elizabeth’s side, gripping her hand as if letting go would shatter her completely. Her fingers trembled weakly in his grasp. Her lips parted, but her voice barely emerged. "They… they’re hiding… something…" Walker stiffened. "What?" he whispered, leaning in. "Lizzy, what are you talking about?" Her breath was shallow, her gaze unfocused yet terrified. Dr. Graham adjusted one of the machines, his movements precise—too precise. Walker’s eyes snapped to him. "What is she talking about?" Dr. Graham smiled, but it felt… wrong. Too measured. Rehearsed. "She’s disoriented," he said smoothly. "Not uncommon after severe blood loss." Walker’s grip tightened on Elizabeth’s hand. She wasn’t just delirious. She was afraid. Dr. Graham’s voice cut through his thoughts. "Your wife is unstable, but we’re doing everything we can." Then why did it feel like a bad dream? Nothing added up. "Stress can make things seem worse than they are," Dr. Graham continued, his tone too sooth

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.

He turned on his heels and walked out, keeping his pace steady. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing his fear. But outside, his hands shook. His mind reeled. They had erased Elizabeth. He waited outside for an hour, pacing near the hospital entrance. His mind raced with possibilities. They had seen him. That much was certain. If he stormed back in, they would stop him before he even got close. No, he had to be careful. He took a deep breath and walked back inside. The air smelled sterile—too clean, as if it were covering something rotten. Walker’s pulse thundered in his ears as he crept through the hallway, his steps calculated, his shoulders hunched to blend into the background. He kept his face down, pretending to study his shoes, but his eyes flicked up now and then, scanning the nurses behind the counter. Their chatter continued, oblivious to him—or so he hoped. He moved with precision, waiting for the perfect moment. The counter was lined with stacks of folde

Outside the control room, the two officers stepped away from Walker, leaving him leaning weakly against the wall. The sheriff lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly, his brows furrowed in thought.“You buying his story?” the younger cop asked quietly, glancing back at Walker, who was slumped against the wall, staring blankly ahead.The sheriff took another drag, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t know yet,” he muttered, his tone heavy with doubt. “Something doesn’t add up, but…” He trailed off, watching Walker out of the corner of his eye.The younger officer folded his arms, lowering his voice. “Look at him. He’s a mess, but that doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth. That footage didn’t show any Elizabeth, and the nurses… they seem nervous, yeah, but they’re sticking to their story.”The sheriff tapped ash onto the floor, his eyes fixed on the hospital corridor. “Exactly. They’re nervous. Too nervous. Like they’re hiding something.” He turned to his partner, his expression grim. “But what if he r