Michael entered a large, filthy room: its floor was covered in water; roots of trees were hanging from the ceiling. Damp yet stingy smell lingered in the air. On the opposite wall, there was a large, rusty door. Two star-shaped lamps were placed on its sides, emitting orange glow – there were no other light sources in the room.

There were three gurneys on Michael's right, and another three gurneys on his left, all placed symmetrically in precise order against the walls. On four of the gurneys, cadavers were resting with their face towards the ceiling. However, all of the bodies were covered by white blankets – moisture pressed them against their skin, forming blank imitations of the deceased. White pieces of paper were attached to the frameworks – they seemed to contain information about the dead people. Michael kept the gun ready – in light of his recent experiences, he wasn't too keen on inspecting cadavers. The first two gurneys were empty, so he walked straight to the third one:

Male, 27

Cause : explosion (industrial boiler)

Michael stared at the body for a while until realizing something. He got confused, as it seemed that all the corpses were physically similar – surely there should have been some notable differences, despite the white sheets. Michael thought about moving the blanket, yet his instincts overcame his curiosity. He proceeded to the next cadaver:

Male, 11

Cause : starvation

Third corpse:

Male, 11

Cause : starvation

And the last one:

Female, 24

Cause : loss of blood (suicide)

Michael stared at the body for a while until walking next to it – he stretched his arm, yet suddenly turned around and walked to the rusty door. Michael turned it open, and entered a much smaller room. It was made out of uneven, gray concrete, and contained no furniture. There was some kind of light source in the ceiling – a spherical, glass-made dome inserted halfway inside the concrete, emitting orange light. Michael stared at the dome in confusion, as it seemed that something was stuffed inside it – a skin-coloured mass was moving within the glass, wriggling like a maggot. Small needle-like structures surrounded the dome, sticking seamlessly out of the ceiling.

"...I don't know what that is, so..."

Just now Michael noticed a man in the corner, left in the strong shadow – it was Brian.

"...so don't ask."

Brian was sitting on the floor, leaning against closest wall. He seemed utterly tired.

"Brian, listen...have you met a young woman here? Her name is Jessica."

"...no, I have not."

"She's in the third floor, and...she is not doing well. I took that you were a doctor, so –"

"Just shut the fuck up" Brian said. Michael kept staring at his grim, hopeless expression. Eventually, he decided to be rather blunt:

"Brian, there's no one here. My wife isn't here, and...your sons –"

"But I found them!" Brian uttered. He burst into tears.

"I found them, Michael!" he yelled while losing every bit of control – his voice formed a hopeless roar:

"I found them! All rotten! All dead!"

Michael gazed at Brian, unable to response. All he could do was watch as the crying man turned around, towards the dark corner. Michael was about to say something, yet he said nothing – realizing that Brian was beyond his help. He was about to leave, as he took one more look at the dome: now it was empty. Michael disregarded the glass ball and stepped outside; his head started aching. He returned to the large room and almost fell on his knees; air smelled disgusting. It seemed that trunks of trees were pushing through the walls.

Michael started walking towards the elevator – he saw several mosquitoes flying around the ceiling. Next to the elevator, there was a shape of human, standing against the wall – it resembled a child, yet its body was completely black; like soil deep inside the ground. It had no face – nothing but a horizontal, wide and red slit above the chin. Its forearms formed hook-like appendages, with slightly curved tips.

Michael stepped backwards, as the creature turned around and started approaching him. He shot it twice in the head; it fell over, yet leaped back on two feet. It swung one of its hooks with surprising agility, puncturing Michael's jacket. The wet, rotten essence of the humanoid filled Michael with adrenaline; he kicked it down and ran to the elevator. Michael stormed inside and pressed the single button on the panel – he started moving upwards. Now that Michael had chance to catch his breath, he noticed an object taped above the button – a small, golden key. He picked it up, already with an idea for its usage.

Doors opened.

Michael stepped back into the third floor, yet it had changed: the corridors were bordered by burning candles. They were placed next to the walls in more or less chaotic clusters; air was thick and hard to breathe; warm, orange glow pulsated along the hallways. Michael took a step; several branches of needles emerged from the walls, aimed towards him. He moved extremely slow, avoiding getting punctured and set on fire.

Michael entered the patient wing, and took a look along the linear hallway. At its mouth, every surface morphed into extremely thin and long needles; they formed a dense, chaotic mass without any traits of symmetry, completely blocking the hallway. The sight was incomprehensible; Michael was forced to look away as he felt extremely uneasy. He decided to concentrate on the padlocked door.

Indeed, the golden key fit in the lock – shackle opened, and so did the door. Michael stepped inside a large, lightless hall, which contained no needles – nor any other illogical elements. Four rectangular pillars controlled the space; some chairs and tables were stacked against the opposite wall, and covered with white, dusty blankets. There were several pitch-black windows above these piles of furniture; it seemed to be dark outside.

Michael listened to the faint echoes of his own footsteps as he progressed to the middle of the hall – and found nothing; the place was just empty. Michael looked around for a while, until he spotted a dirty, white object on the floor – another patient record. It contained a short, highly informal text:

it hurts every

movement hurts

send waves of ache from

ear eye radiates

radiates every cant

move im stuck

stuck

stuck cant breathe

Michael shivered – he dropped the paper. A spark emerged; a single flash of orange light in the darkness. It formed fire; a bed of flames about two meters above the floor. Michael turned around, towards a burning creature – it wasn't moving, so he had a few seconds to wonder what he was actually looking at: this thing was like a worm risen on the rear end of its body. Said body was seemingly made out of opaque plastic – it was actually a twisted cylindrical tube, filled with skin-coloured matter. Two pale legs stuck out of the tube's end, resting on the floor.

The creature had no face – the other end of the plastic was mostly sealed. However, there was a diagonal cut in the wrapping, revealing the tissue inside. Organic matter twitched and rubbed itself against the sharp edges of the cut, causing several lacerations. Two thin, pale arms sticked out of the tube's sides, wrapped tightly around its body. On top of its "head" was the bed of flames, turning plastic into brown liquid – yet the fire wouldn't spread further.

Michael was staring at this thing in almost complete silence – nothing but the faint humming of the fire could be heard. The flames' pulsating glow danced around, creating smooth yet strong shadows. Eventually the creature started moving, dragging its clumsy body and sweeping the floor with its legs. Without making a sound, it placed one of its arms against the floor – a branch of needles slithered towards Michael; he jumped out of the way and watched as the deformation climbed along one of the pillars.

Michael raised his gun and shot the creature twice; bullets drilled bloody holes through the plastic and tissue. Creature fell down; one of its arms got crushed under its own weight. It let out a sound; a weak, whining expression, and swept the floor with its remaining arm. Two chaotic patterns of needles emanated towards Michael, yet suddenly they curved past him. Few needles punctured the creature's own body; it screamed as the deformations got sucked in the floor through its own flesh. The flames became brighter and started spreading; their glow was unnatural. Soon the whole creature was engulfed by fire – it moved lazily around, fighting against its own existence. Eventually it gave up and fell on the floor, still rubbing itself with its arms.

Michael stared at the flames; at their deep, orange colours. Despite the fire, he felt cold. Time passed slowly; Michael felt exhausted. He sat on the floor and leaned against the closest wall. Gradually the fire disappeared, until there was nothing left but darkness.

Michael shivered.

He opened his eyes and looked around – dim light passed through the windows; the creature was gone. Tables and chairs were stacked against the opposite wall, and covered by white, dusty blankets. Michael stood up, almost falling down again – he felt tired, which resulted in strong visions of coffee. It seemed there was nothing left to do in the hall, so Michael returned to the patient wing's corridor. It seemed completely normal: no more needles, candles, water nor black plastic.

Michael walked along the hallway to the very last patient room – its door was left open; there was no one inside. Fog-filtered light entered the room through a window, creating a sleepy atmosphere. Michael had no idea where Jess had gone, but he did remember his promise to her. Therefore, he backtracked to the staircase and descended to the first floor. He proceeded to the pharmacy – surprisingly, its door wasn't locked anymore; it was actually partially open.

Michael entered a small room with two shelves on its both sides. Their contents were thrown all over the room; white bottles and colourful tablets were spilled across the floor. In the middle was Jessica, lying on her side – with pale skin, glazed eye and mouth filled with vomit.