ECHOES OF THE DAMNED (ENG)

CHAPTER I - Butchery (Introduction)

'Hurry up! Mr. Dubois needs his painkillers!' It was a day like no other at Colbert Hospital. The emergency department buzzed with frantic energy, a sea of patients and overworked staff trying to keep their heads above water. Every bed was occupied, every corridor filled with the murmurs of pain and desperation. The air hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic and anxiety. The staff had never seen it like this before-the pressure mounting, the tension suffocating.

In one of the cramped patient rooms, Arthur Dubois, a forty-eight-year-old man with a severe leg injury, lay on his bed, his face contorted in agony. His leg throbbed with unbearable pain, a constant torment that had him clenching his fists, grinding his teeth. The moments dragged on in excruciating slowness as he waited for relief, for someone to come and help him. The pain had become more than physical; it was a storm in his mind, gnawing away at his sanity.

'Please... someone...' he muttered, his voice raspy and desperate, though no one could hear him over the chaos outside his room.

Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain shot through his leg, more intense than before, as if something inside had snapped. With a grunt, Dubois slid off the bed, collapsing onto the cold, tiled floor. He gasped, dragging himself forward, inch by inch, his hands trembling as they clawed toward the bedside drawer. His eyes were wild, filled with frantic desperation. There was something in that drawer-something he needed, something that could stop the pain.

Sweat dripped from his forehead as he crawled, his fingernails scraping the floor, the effort tearing at his already weakened body. His breath was ragged, his mind clouded with agony and confusion. His hand finally reached the handle of the drawer, trembling as he pulled it open. Inside, a syringe glinted under the dim hospital light. His fingers curled around it, the sharp needle shining as he stared at it with crazed intent.

Moments later, a nurse entered the room, carrying a tray with painkillers, a plastic cup, and a bottle of water. Her expression was one of hurried professionalism, worn down by the overwhelming demand of the day. She was expecting to find Mr. Dubois impatiently waiting for his medication, perhaps grumbling about the delay.

But as she pushed open the door, the tray nearly slipped from her hands.

Arthur Dubois lay on the floor, face down in a pool of blood, a syringe lodged deep in his throat. Dark red stains splattered the walls, the bed, the sheets-everything soaked in the horror of the moment. The nurse's breath caught in her throat as her eyes widened in terror. The room felt colder, more sinister, as if death itself lingered in the air.

The young nurse shrieked, the sound piercing the once-busy hospital corridor like a knife through flesh. The tray crashed to the ground, pills and water scattering in every direction as she turned and bolted from the room, her feet barely touching the floor. Panic surged through her veins, her mind racing as she screamed for help, her voice hoarse and trembling.

Doctors and staff flooded into the room within minutes, their faces grim as they took in the grisly scene. They crowded around Mr. Dubois's lifeless body, their voices hushed with shock and disbelief. Blood soaked the syringe, the instrument of death that had somehow ended up in the patient's own throat.

Hours later, after the chaos subsided and the local detectives had combed through the room, the autopsy report confirmed the unthinkable. Mr. Dubois had, indeed, stabbed himself with the syringe, ending his own life in a moment of unimaginable suffering.

But how? And why? The questions lingered in the minds of the doctors and detectives alike. It didn't make sense-none of it did. And as they cleared the blood-stained room, a chilling feeling settled over the hospital, a dark omen of what was to come.

Dr. Jerome Lambert, The general practitioner of Colbert hospital, sat at his desk, fingers lightly drumming against the polished wood, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The familiar hum of the hospital buzzed faintly in the background, but his mind was elsewhere-still stuck on the events that had unfolded earlier that morning.