The Hospital (Sam and colby)

Return to the darkness

Colby parked his car under the skeletal branches of an ancient oak tree, its leaves long since vanished, leaving only a stark silhouette against the overcast sky. His heart hammered in his chest, a peculiar mix of anxiety, regret, and determination. This was a place he never wanted to visit again, yet here he was, drawn back by a force he couldn't quite name. The hospital loomed in the distance, a crumbling monument to the forgotten and the lost.With a deep breath, he stepped out of the car and approached the metal doors, feeling the weight of his decision with each footfall. He groaned open, revealing a scene frozen in time. The corridors lay in silence, the cobwebs untouched, the dust undisturbed. The oppressive heaviness that had clung to the air during his last visit had dissipated, leaving a ghostly emptiness in its wake. He took a tentative step inside, the cold concrete floor beneath his boots echoing through the vacant hallways.The silence was eerie, a stark contrast to the cacophony of his thoughts. Each door he passed whispered of pain and secrets, each room a tomb for shattered dreams and forgotten lives. He walked with purpose, his eyes scanning the environment, trying to make sense of the labyrinthine layout. The echoes of his footsteps were his only companions, bouncing off the peeling wallpaper and flickering lights.As Colby moved deeper into the hospital, the air grew colder, hinting at hidden depths and forgotten places. His breath misted in the frigid air, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone. He paused at the nurses' station, the plastic chairs overturned and the clipboards abandoned. A chill ran down his spine as he realized that the heaviness he'd felt before was not entirely gone; it had merely transformed into something else.The silence grew denser, almost tangible, pressing in on him from all sides. He swallowed hard, pushing aside the lump in his throat. His eyes fell upon a wall of dusty, untouched files, and he couldn't resist the urge to sift through them. The names and dates grew blurry as he read, each one a story of pain and loss, a silent testament to the lives that had once been tended to here.The wall behind the nurses' station was different, though. A section of it looked out of place, as if it had been hastily painted over. Curiosity piqued, Colby approached, his heart thumping faster. He reached out a trembling hand and traced the edges, feeling the slight groove of a hidden seam. His pulse spiked. Was this a sign, a beacon of hope in this sea of despair?With tremendous effort, he pushed against the wall. It didn't budge at first, but then, with a soft creak, it began to move. The dust billowed around him, and the air grew thick with the scent of decay. The secret door revealed a staircase descending into darkness, the steps worn and unsteady beneath his grip. He fumbled in his pocket for a flashlight, the beam casting eerie shadows on the walls as he cautiously descended.The air grew colder, the darkness closing in around him. His breathing was ragged, the anticipation of what lay below almost unbearable. The stairs led him to a basement, a place that seemed to have been sealed off from the rest of the world. The walls were lined with metal cabinets, their doors hanging open like the mouths of the damned, and the floor was slick with an unknown substance.Colby's heart raced as he shone the flashlight around the room. The beam reflected off something shiny in the corner, and he approached with trepidation. It was a tray, gleaming under the dust, filled with instruments that looked more suited to a butcher's block than a medical bay. The room felt alive with the echoes of screams and the cries of despair, the very essence of pain seemingly embedded in the very fabric of the place.He took a step back, his eyes adjusting to the gloom, and noticed a figure in the far corner, huddled and shivering. His breath caught in his throat as he moved closer, the flashlight trembling in his hand. It was a young girl, no more than seven or eight, with matted hair and wide, terrified eyes. Her clothes were tattered, stained with what could only be blood. She flinched at his approach, her eyes wild and unseeing."It's okay," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm not going to hurt you."The girl remained frozen, her eyes fixed on the light. Colby knelt down, placing the flashlight on the floor so he wouldn't scare her further. He held out his hand, palm up, showing her that he had no weapon, no intent to harm. Her eyes darted from his hand to his face and back again, as if trying to decide if he was a friend or foe.The wall continued to creak and shift behind him, the hidden door now fully open. The space beyond was pitch black, beckoning him with a chilling emptiness. He glanced back, the urge to explore warring with the instinct to comfort the child. What if she knew how to save Sam. He asked shaking "Are you a good ghost?" The childs eyes never moved off colby until suddenly she disappeared leaving no traces except one little key.He picked up the key with trembling fingers, the cold metal biting into his skin. It was old, with an intricate design that hinted at a long-forgotten lock. Colby's gaze returned to the yawning darkness of the secret room. The air was colder there, as if the very essence of the hospital's sorrow had been concentrated in that one spot. With a deep breath, he stepped through the threshold, the door groaning shut behind him.

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