It was getting late, later than it should have been, and Frank didn’t know what to do. He sat in the parking lot of Queen’s Hospital, his head on the driver’s steering wheel, a pool of sweat across his face.

“Me, oh my, you don’t look too good, sweetie.”

“Shut up!” Frank barked, his gaze sharp in the rear mirror, which revealed the woman pleasantly smiling in the backseat. “Just…shut up.”

Alicent was a patient woman. One who had all the time in the world now that her name had been ushered out loud. She never thought someone would speak of it so soon. 

Frank was a strange man, no doubt about it, but to have a dream left Alicent rather intrigued by how this came to be. Her fascination turned into a fondness for the poor, poor man who was dealing with the choices laid out before him.

“Me, oh my, tomorrow then?”

“Will I really be allowed to come tomorrow? How long can I put this off?”

“…” The woman’s smile stretched ear to ear. She had spoken briefly of the details. While she may have all the time in the world to spare, Frank did not.

“Okay, I’ll do it. Just stop smiling so hard. I will handle it. You hold up your end, and I will mine.”

“Yo Frankie,” Frank’s pace halted in their tracks. He couldn’t believe he heard the words of his best friend Woods from behind.

“Frankie? Where have you been? I have been calling you. No one has heard or seen from you in days. What happened to the trouble we discussed? Did you dispose of it?”

Frank felt what could only be described as a frog in his throat. To muster the single word, “y-yeah,” he stammered harder than anything he had done before.

“For good? Are you sure?” Woods asked. “Because I had a conversation with Winslet and… You alright, mate? You don’t look too good.”

“Me? Yeah, I am fine. Just—yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-Yeah!” Frank said, scratching his temple feverishly. It provided a means to avoid direct eye contact with Woods. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just a check-up,” Woods answered with a raised brow. “I’m having things assessed. I’ve been doing some thinking. You?”

“Me? Ahh, nothing, umm…actually, the girl that hit us—me. Me and your kid the other night. She, ugh, ever wake up?”

“No, not to my knowledge. Why?”

“Just want to check on her. See if I could get any answers about the thing I saw.”

“The thing you saw?” Woods recalled vaguely of what Frank described, but he was not the best source at the time given his condition. It left Sirius giving a more appropriate account, which Woods had dismissed earlier until seeing it again at the Winter’s manor. 

“I believe Winslet said it was dead-ish,” Woods said, taking a step close. He eased to ensure his next words were closer to a whisper for Frank’s ears alone. “She thinks the Witch is still alive.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah… So I am going to ask you again. Are you sure you got rid of its remains?”

“Heh. Yes! Do you not believe me?”

“Whether I believe you or not is not important. This is uncharted territory. Something that should not exist, does, doesn’t it? You were the one who said as much, remember? Who knows how certain we can be unless we triple confirm.”

“Look, I don’t know what Winslet is telling you, but are you going to take her word over me? Didn’t know you were in the back pocket of the Winters family all of a sudden. Unless, are you sleeping with her? Then, great for ya, mate. Not all of us can be tall and handsome with a full beard.”

“Frankie…what? I just wanted—”

“Yeah, mate, I took care of it! How many times do I have to say it? Thanks for the info. I’ll be out of your hair now.”

Without a chance to say another word, Woods was left to watch Frank take off down the hall, scratching his head hard and rough as if with the purpose of pulling a clump from the very root of his scalp. He was nothing short of confused by his friend’s strange, erratic behavior. He couldn’t chop it up to anything short of odd. 

As for Frank, he turned the next corner, finding a room to himself. His breathing was all over the place as he clutched his heart. Taking a moment to wash his face to cool off, he leaned up, his reflection staring back at him with Alicent over his shoulder.

“Me, oh my, we’re not very good under pressure, are we.”

“Shut up!”

A wave of frustration seized Frank before he could stop himself. His hand moved with a will of its own, shattering the glass. In the fractured mirror, his reflection trembled as Alicent’s silhouette bled through the web of cracks—a malignant memory taking form. His hand throbbed where it had struck, each pulse marking another thread of his control unraveling.

“Me, oh my,” Alicent’s voice slithered between his ears, “we’re deteriorating faster than anticipated.”

Her words weren’t a question. They were a diagnosis.

His breathing—ragged, desperate—echoed the sporadic flickering of the hospital lights. Each stutter of illumination revealed fragments: his trembling fingers, her impossible smile, the growing darkness between reality’s seams.

“I can handle this,” Frank whispered, but the words dissolved before they could convince even himself.

“No, I’ll take over.” Alicent shot, her gaze growing serious. “We don’t have much time.”

The last word hung like a blade, promising something far worse than mere time’s passage.

Her ominous words coincided with flickering lights, her usually playful, childlike grin twisting into something grim.

The dark had come quickly in Queens Hospital, leaving the tirelessly working white fluorescent lights, the only thing that illuminated the halls, to glow ever so brightly. But for some reason, this night was different. They had begun to flicker suddenly for no reason at all, with no one seemingly noticing either. 

They stuttered with an odd and random array that followed no pattern. What was more strange was a woman who seemed to sway her hips to the chaotic rhythm like it was a song for her to dance to. Her sapphire-colored Victorian-style dress—gorgeous, with various ornate and intricate patterns laced—flowed fluently like water as she twirled like a ballerina on her toes.

She shook her head in a circular manner, letting loose her long, dark black hair. The underside, however, was a contrasting crystal-like blue, similar to her dress. A color you saw only when the moon’s light showered over a river or a lake, to which the stars decorated with a mesmerizing pull. 

The woman continued to shake and spin, her hands in the air before tugging at the hems of her dress. Her movements were chaotic yet in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the hall’s flashing lights. Much like them, she took up the whole hall, yet no one, not a single individual, seemed to pay her any attention. They seemed completely unaware as if she were not there at all. 

Free to do as she pleased, she groped every inch of her own body, a smile spreading across her face with a euphoric expression. Her teeth were perfect, ivory white, as she grinned. Everything about her screamed a woman of class, nobility, and regal air, yet she carried herself, dancing with no care in the world like a fool.

Taking a stride that left her moving from one side of the wall to the other, as if to declare the air around was her own to be conquered, she eventually moved to the end of the hall, to room number 333.

Her hand reached around first. Her body leaned in curiously before her head followed. The lights in the room begun to flicker as well, falling for the same chaotic energy of the woman dancing. She rolled her bare shoulders, extending her hand outward as if to create a wave motion for her whole arm to follow.

The patient inside had noticed the woman the very moment she had stepped into her room, her eyes going wide with a fierce tensity.

“You—”

“Shhhhhhh,” hushed the visitor. “Can’t you hear it?”

The weird visitor twirled, bringing her hands to the patient’s bedside. She swayed her hips before following with her waist. Her shoulders were complacent to the motion before she brought one leg up to place her toes on the bed.

The grown woman crawled along the bed like a cat, exaggerating her shoulders and rear to provide an arch. Her strange dancing did not cease as she brought her face close to the one lying down.

The flickering of the lights ceased, and the woman was absent from the patient’s view and bedside.

There was a soft sigh of relief. A dream? A hallucination? Too much medication?

“So (So). This is where you have been (This is how you are).”

The words were like a whisper, all too clear, reaching into the patient’s ear. Whipping to her side, she saw the woman with a wicked smile sitting with her legs crossed and hands in her lap, docile. The single fluorescent light above her head flickering.

“Leave me be!”

“Why (Why)? You are loved (You are cherished).” Her manner of speaking was odd as if a second voice contained within spoke but on a subtle slight delay.

“Do not do this! Have you not taken enough from me?”

The woman’s piercing blue eyes gazed out into the hallway before snapping back to the elderly woman lying in a gown. Her head cocked to one side at an unnatural angle.

“What?” The patient pleaded. 

“How fun (How vexing). We are not alone (We have company).”

The lights throughout the hospital began to flicker uncontrollably, and everyone started to notice. It wasn’t just the lights; everything was beginning to malfunction. 

As for Woods, he was in the middle of pouring himself water when he heard a plethora of staff running in a particular direction. It was a hospital, after all. Trauma, accidents—this was the place that saw them more often than anything else.

Finishing the refreshing cup that paled in taste to what he preferred, he took to heading in a similar direction. But as Woods crept closer, the loud voices of the hospital staff could be heard. They were hysterical, confused, and in disarray. The lights began to flicker more violently, and various electronics no longer functioned appropriately.

“Excuse me, can someone tell me what’s going on.”

“Various patients are in critical danger,” one of the medical staff workers spoke, taking time to pass by him checking some details. “Some were on life support. But we can’t figure out what’s happening with the power.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, sir. We ask everyone who is visiting to stay calm and retreat to one of the more appropriate waiting areas while we get things in order.”

“You sure—”

It was then another nurse was rushing past him. Bloody gauze spilling from her hands. They had just left direction from down the hall, closer to Lilith’s room. It was then he felt a knot in his side. Something wasn’t right. Something was bothering him deeply, and he wasn’t sure if it was paranoia. 

To search for the answer, he quickly bolted in the direction of the room he had only visited over an hour ago. His jaw tense as he rounded the corner to see a sight of horror he could not believe. An elderly woman’s chest was pried open, staff covered in blood trying to staunch the wounds.

The sound of the heartbeat monitor slowing to a long beep drowned out the filled room with concerned medical professionals. Woods could not do anything as he felt his own heart shatter. Himself dying with the old woman who usually wrote him off.

As he stammered back and into the hall, he held his head before clutching his heart to get his breathing under control just as a paramedic brushed past him. Several more spoke up, their words highlighting a dangerous concern that was plaguing the walls.

“Someone in the other wing did what?!”

“Several shots were fired when he got caught. He just carved out someone’s chest and pulled their heart free.”

“We need to call the police now!”

Woods, unable to close his ears, found himself lost for words as one medical staff worker pointed to him.

“Him, he’s an officer!”

It was then a wave of information was directed to Woods. His mind raced as he couldn’t believe what they were saying and the description of the man who was causing chaos and now fleeing the hospital.