In the darkness, we find more than just shadows. We find pieces of ourselves and others we never wanted to see

The darkness fell over our heads, and we hid in an abandoned hospital not far from the food store. The air inside was musty, thick with the smell of old, damp walls and rotting wood. The floors creaked under our weight, and the silence was so heavy it felt like the building was watching us. Every step felt like we were trespassing in a place that wasn’t meant for the living. Obviously.

Kennedy moved ahead, his figure barely visible in the dim light. His steps were quiet, practiced, but something about him felt different—distant. It wasn’t just the way his gaze kept darting around, like he was expecting something to jump out of the shadows. It was the way he held himself, like there was a part of him that wasn’t really here. I wanted to ask him what was going on, what he was thinking, but the words wouldn’t come. Every time I opened my mouth, I hesitated, unsure of what I was even supposed to say.

“Stay close,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low, almost like a warning.

I nodded, but my eyes kept searching his face. He looked the same, but something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the way he was avoiding my gaze, or how his jaw was clenched tight, like he was holding back for something unexpected. I wanted to push him, to demand the truth, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it. I’m scared, not used to this all. It all happened all of a sudden. Part of me didn’t want to know if he was hiding something from me—something important. Because if he was… I wasn’t sure I could trust him anymore. But i guess he cannot trust me either.

A girl randomly appearing at night, running, covered in bruises and blood. Exhausted and now treated. It’s obvious he wouldn’t trust a “brat” like me.

The hospital seemed to stretch on forever, empty rooms and long, rotten, dark hallways. We passed by old patient rooms, the walls cracked and peeled, piece by piece, even the smell of old blood and the remains of human flesh lingering in the thick, stale air. Every time we turned a corner, I half-expected to see someone standing there, but no one ever did. The building was as dead as the world outside.

My heartbeat was loud in my ears, and the silence pressed in from all sides. I wanted to scream, to say something, but the words wouldn’t form. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched, though I couldn’t see anyone. Maybe it was just the place—the hospital was full of empty rooms, all of them hiding secrets I didn’t want to know. Or maybe it was just me, losing my grip on what was real.

We came to a large open area, what looked like a waiting room. Broken chairs were scattered around, some overturned, some with cushions torn and stuffing spilling out. The place was so still, it was like the air itself was holding its breath and slowly dying. I shivered and stepped closer to Kennedy, even though I wasn’t sure I should trust him anymore. The longer we stayed here, the more uneasy I became.

He stopped in the middle of the room, scanning the space. His eyes flicked to the door, then back to me, his expression unreadable.

“Do you hear that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I strained to listen, but all I could hear was the distant hum of the wind outside, pushing against the cracked windows. But there was something else, a low sound, like something shifting in the dark.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice tight.

He didn’t answer, just moved to the door and peered through the crack. I watched him, my breath catching in my throat. My skin crawled, and a feeling of dread settled deep in my chest.

“Stay close,” he repeated, this time more urgently, like whatever was out there might be closer than we realized.

I nodded again, but the fear in my chest only grew. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about what we’d left behind. How the world outside was falling apart, how the people I once knew were all gone. And Kennedy… I didn’t know who he was anymore. Was he the man who saved me, or was he the one who’d kept me locked away, hiding from the truth?

The hospital felt more like a tomb the longer we stayed in it, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were trapped here, in more ways than one.