ASSHOLES | scream au

5. dewey, dewey, dewey

Tara sat in her hospital room, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling the air as she fixated on the flickering television screen, where I Know What You Did Last Summer played in the background. The badly dubbed curse words added a surreal quality to the horror flick, a contrast to her current reality. With a sigh, she shifted her position and reached for her phone with her good hand, hoping for a message from Amber. But her heart sank as she stared at the blank screen—nothing. Amber had promised to come back from Mindy's by now, or at least text her, but the silence was deafening.

Rolling her eyes in frustration, Tara set her phone down and pressed the call button with her good hand, a sense of urgency creeping in. She waited, but the seconds stretched into an uncomfortable silence. Frowning, she pressed the call button again. "Hello? Deputy Vinson? Nobody's responding to the call button!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the stillness.

Yet, there was no answer. She was on a private floor that was supposedly under police protection. So where the hell were they? Panic began to bubble within her. "Hello?" she called out, her voice tinged with anxiety. Suddenly, a loud bang resonated from outside her room, sounding like something had fallen over—followed by an eerie silence. Tara's heart raced. A struggle?

"Fuck this," she muttered, feeling a surge of determination as she pulled the oxygen tube from her nose and yanked the pulse oximeter from her finger. Gritting her teeth, she peeled off the cannula from her hand before pushing the covers off her body. The pain from her injuries—especially the knife wound wrapped in gauze—flared sharply in her mind, accompanied by the uncomfortable weight of the casts on her left arm and right leg, and the stitches lining her stomach and back.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the slow, painstaking task of transferring from the bed to the wheelchair. Using her good hand and elbow, she began the arduous process. "Oh Jesus... Okay..." she mumbled to herself, struggling to lift herself out of the bed.

Finally, she lowered herself into the wheelchair with great effort, the movement causing her to bang her left leg against the armrest. Pain shot through her, and tears pricked at her eyes as she stifled a scream. She paused, listening for any sounds—footsteps, voices—anything that could provide comfort. But there was only silence.

Now, she had to move. With a determined grip on the wheelchair's wheel with her good hand, she tried to push herself forward. The chair jolted slightly as she rolled it, but the sudden jolt sent pain shooting through her hand. She yelped, allowing a small sob to escape her lips before she took a deep breath, inhaling through the sharp pangs of hurt, and continued to push the wheelchair.

Just then, the lights flickered and went out completely, plunging her into darkness. Panic gripped her as she breathed shakily. What the fuck is going on?

Suddenly, her phone vibrated against the wooden surface of the bedside table behind her, breaking the oppressive silence. Startled, Tara turned back to see her phone, plugged into the wall to charge. The faint light from the screen illuminated her surroundings, but there was no way she could risk going back there. 

Tara wheeled herself cautiously into the dimly lit hallway, the oppressive silence amplifying every creak of her chair. The corridor stretched endlessly, the elevator bank at the far end appearing to be miles away. With each push of the wheels, pain shot through her body, a reminder of her injuries. Blood seeped through the gauze on her hand and the fabric of her hospital gown, a grim sign that she had burst her stitches. Sweat trickled down her forehead, mixing with the blood that stained her clothes.

As she passed a dark doorway, a shiver ran down her spine. The shadows beyond seemed to pulse with menace, and her heart raced at the thought of what might be lurking within. Anything could be in there... she thought, waiting for something to jump out. But the darkness remained still, and she exhaled shakily, urging herself to keep moving.