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Content Warning: This chapter minor gore.
Note: This chapter will be shorter in length.
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The first sensation I became aware of was the dull, relentless ache in my head. My forehead felt like someone had driven a stake into it. My vision swam, blurry, fragmented, and no matter how many times I blinked, I couldn't seem to bring anything into focus. The beeping of machines, the subtle sounds of hospital staff moving about, told me where I was, but I couldn't quite grasp how I got here.
I shifted slightly, trying to lift my hand to my forehead, but something was holding me back. My limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. The cold, sterile air around me made it hard to breathe, thickening in my chest. It was suffocating in a way that almost made me forget what had happened.
What I had seen.
A soft, controlled voice broke through the haze.
"Good, you're awake," the nurse said. Her voice was calm, with a professional precision that instantly made me focus on her.
I blinked again, trying to bring the figure before me into clearer view. She was standing beside my bed, her hands moving deftly as she adjusted the IV and checked my blood. She was in her late twenties, with dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, and she wore round glasses that sat delicately on her nose. Her scrubs were pale blue, matching the cold clinical vibe of the room. She looked at me with a steady gaze, not rushing, but not overly warm either.
"You've been through quite a lot," she continued, not pausing in her task. "But you're stable now. You're going to be fine."
Fine? I didn't feel fine. A sick, twisted memory rose unbidden. My heart began to race again.
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry, and my words came out in a strained whisper. "I saw... I saw him," I gasped, trying to sit up but failing. My body felt like it was filled with concrete. "I saw my professor... kill someone."
The nurse froze. The words hung in the air like a storm, heavy and real. Her hands, poised over the syringe, trembled ever so slightly before she set it down on the tray beside the bed. I could feel her eyes on me now, assessing, not with the care I expected from a medical professional, but with a tension that unnerved me.
"Who did you see?" Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now. A sharpness that made the air seem colder.
"My professor... Dr. Mads Mikkelsen," I whispered, struggling to focus as the memory rushed back with full force. "He killed Logan. I saw it... I saw everything."
The nurse's expression shifted, her face paling just slightly. For a moment, she didn't speak. I could hear her breathing, slow, deliberate, as if she were calculating her next move.
She didn't respond right away. Instead, she reached for her phone, her fingers steady as she scrolled through the contacts. There was no panic in her movements, but the tension in her posture was unmistakable. She dialed a number, and her voice dropped to a low murmur as she spoke into the receiver.
"Yes, this is Nurse Taylor at Riverstone Hospital," she said, her voice professional but urgent. "I need to report a situation. We have a patient here who claims to have witnessed a homicide. Yes, she's stable for now, but her statement is... concerning."
She glanced at me briefly, her gaze fleeting, before she continued her conversation. "The patient is claiming she saw a faculty member, Dr. Mads Mikkelsen, kill a man. I believe the patient's memory is intact, though I haven't had a chance to verify all the details. I understand, but I need immediate instructions on how to proceed."
I could barely breathe. My chest felt tight, constricted with a mix of terror and disbelief. This couldn't be happening. I had to be dreaming, hallucinating. But as the nurse continued to speak, I realized how real it all was. The cold truth settled in, and it made the air around me heavier than ever.
"Yes, I'll have her hold tight," Nurse Taylor said into the phone, her voice low and calm, as though she were giving directions for something routine. "We'll wait for the authorities to arrive. I'll keep her here until further notice. Thank you."
She hung up the phone and turned back to me, her eyes no longer holding the calm professionalism they once had. They were cautious, guarded. "I'm going to need you to stay calm, alright?" she said, her voice softer now. "You've been through a lot, but you need to take it easy. The police will be here soon, and we'll get to the bottom of this. Just stay calm."
I wanted to scream, to tell her how impossible this all seemed, but my body refused to cooperate. My limbs were heavy, my vision still blurry, but I could feel the cold grip of fear sinking in.
The nurse's gaze shifted for a moment, a slight hesitation in her expression, but then she straightened up. "I'll be back shortly. Just rest, alright?" she said, her tone businesslike once again. "I'll let you know when the authorities arrive."
She left the room without another word, and I was left alone with my racing thoughts. The weight of the moment crushed me, suffocated me. I had seen it. I had seen Dr. Mikkelsen kill Logan, and now I was tangled in something far darker than I could have ever imagined.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what was real anymore. All I could do was stare at the ceiling, my pulse still pounding in my ears, waiting for the storm to break.
And then, just before the door closed, I thought I heard something. A faint voice. It was my own.
What have I done?
I didn't know if I was talking to myself or asking the universe for some kind of answer. But nothing came. Just the soft, steady beeping of the machines and the hollow silence of a hospital room that felt too small. Too cold.
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Chapter twelve of 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 hits hard. Eloise wakes up in the hospital, but the nightmare isn't over. The weight of what she witnessed is suffocating, and now someone else knows.
The fear, the tension... It's too much. And the worst part? Dr. Mikkelsen is with Mia.
Read on if you're ready to unravel more secrets. Things are getting darker. Don't forget to vote, add your thoughts to the comments, and add to the library for updates.
