Christa crouched next to the bed, frozen in place. Her chest heaved against the suffocating silence, but she didn’t dare to breathe even as the silhouette vanished from view and the rhythmic footfalls faded into the distance.
It was Caleb who ultimately spoke up, his hushed whispers slicing through the veil of quiet to pierce her ears and make her jump. “He won’t come back this way for a while.”
His sister turned to him stiffly. “Caleb-” She paused to take a long breath of air, the heavy weight on her lungs relenting at last. “...Where are we?”
“In the hospital.”
“No, where are we?”
“...I don’t know.” He looked down, clutching the covers between his trembling fingers. “I used to think it was just a dream- like everyone said- but... things that happen here... don’t go away.”
“What do you mean?”
“...” He averted her gaze, rolling up the sleeve of his hospital gown- was he wearing that before?- to reveal a black slash mark on his shoulder. She gasped. “He caught up to me once. He had this knife that glowed red when he got close, and he hit my shoulder. When I woke up... it looked like this.”
“How is that possible...?” Christa flinched suddenly as a clatter rang from somewhere in the building. Somewhere close. Caleb looked shocked, fixing his eyes on the open door as he clamoured out of bed.
“Hide...!”
She followed him under the bed, nestling next to him. As heavy footsteps drew nearer, he gasped, sliding out and reaching for the lamp.
“Caleb-!” She clasped a hand over her own mouth, realizing her mistake too late.
The idling, monotonous stomping of boots halted for a second before continuing with a different rhythm, one of purpose and clear intent.
Caleb pulled the switch. The click of the lamp assaulted her senses, overpowering the deafening ba-thump of her heart pounding in her ears. The footfalls hastened as Caleb rushed back to his spot under the bed.
Just as he pulled the tips of his fingers under, the empty abyss was filled by the towering figure from mere minutes before, and this time he didn’t walk past. He stepped into the room, one leg after the other, slow and methodical. The closer he got, the less Christa could track, eventually having to rely on the turning of his ankles and whatever sounds he made to guess what he was up to. She heard the sheets of the bed rustling. Then the subtle shift of the boots suggested a look around the room. They stopped, pointing in the direction of the night stand. Caleb had turned the lamp off... Did he notice?
We should have left it on, she thought grimly. They stayed frozen between the legs of the bed, praying that the foreign ones in front of them wouldn’t turn and bend.
After what felt like an eternity of holding her breath, she felt her lungs gasping for air in the vacuum, fighting against her covered mouth and nose.
Once again, Caleb moved first, opening his mouth silently to take a long, slow breath. By some skill or miracle, it was completely inaudible. She thought of mimicking his method but decided against it, unwilling to risk moving her hand away.
The man stood motionless for a while longer before spinning on his heels and walking out of the room. It wasn’t until ten minutes after his footsteps vanished that they crawled out of their hiding place.
“Didn’t you say he wouldn’t come back for a while?” She watched Caleb, who was busy searching the room for something.
“He usually walks through the whole hospital before he circles back,” he murmured in reply, pulling a rectangular box from a drawer. “...He can hear pretty good... Maybe it’s because you were here, so we talked too much.”
“Then- shouldn’t we stop talking?”
“No.” He held up the object for her to see; a camera. “The noise keeps the other bad guy away.”
Her heart sank. “What other bad guy?”
“The one with the tail.”
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