What is Grey/ Sloan Memorial if Meredith Grey isn't here? Can they withstand the storms in a world so thwarted from everything they knew yesterday? It's mad house. It's what happens when a deep holler butcher runs out of livestock. It's the same energy as a rich elitist who invites a group of poor folk over for a dinner with ultimatums and the promise of money. People are no longer doing that which they are designated to do. They're fighting for survival against a sadist who has all the control.

Needles point at nurses. Scalpels sever the skins of doctors. Patients wonder the halls aimlessly looking for a way out but all they can find is games and art made from the guts of those who've already lost. It's the sort of winter where pieces of peppermint are most likely bloody chunks of bone and it might be boiling hot but it's no chocolate; it's acidic poison. Tonight the screams of those who are supposed to help are louder that those who came here looking for healing.

Adele's spirit has done what she's supposed to and therefore she shouldn't be here anymore and yet she still lingers. If she had a heart it'd be heavy. She ponders if the incarnation of Hell has manifested into an actual realm here on earth. Why, of all places, does it have to be what is arguably the safest place in the world. A hospital is the home of the gnashing of teeth and rattling of chains. Instead of fire and brimstone it's the sinister voice of someone who wants to pretend they're human but have no authority in the spiritual world.

"Hello Dr. Hunt, I hope you're excited for this one. It's been a long time old friend." All eyes turn to the chief of trauma; sergeant Hunt.

He let's out a deep breath as he finally begins to understand that this has been for him this entire time. Their are moles all throughout this medical center and every hotwired, coaxed, or amplificated device in this facility was crafted right under his nose. Even Bailey holds a space for guilt in her chest because this is her hawspital. Her people are being tortured just beyond the OR door and there's a game right here just for them.

In their patient room Guzman and Polo are just beginning to wake up. Ander's been present for hours; his head hurts, his eyes are swirling from the blind spots and he's focusing on slowing his breathing because of all the screaming right outside the door. His friends look to him with concern and naturally they do what they're designated to do.

Guzman is on his feet in a flash and over at the door ready to pull it open but he comes up short.

"Stop." Says Ander, his voice is back.

The two boys look back at him, Polo gently caressing his hand and while Ander can't see it he appreciates the way it feels. He's not alone though it's starting to feel that way. Polo's touch is nice and comes in splotches like he's glitching in and out the way a hologram would but holograms are not warm the way polo is.

"I was told we're to stay put. This isn't for us." So little says so much and still there are tons of questions.

Why wouldn't Polo, Guzman, and Ander need to be involved? There's a world out there full of terrors, monsters, and people in need and the three of them are just expected to sit and wait.

Polo thinks he might understand, "It's difficult. To want to do something right away and to know that you can't. Just like it was difficult for us to relocate and we're still grieving. I agree with Ander. If he says not to leave I won't leave."

The pulsation in his wrist is loud. Polo can almost envision his blood passing through his veins and suddenly he can't see his flesh. There's a soft pause to his breathing, a gentle gasp, then... nothing. Polo has vanished.

This sends Guzman into a full blown panic. He's sliding his back down the wall and covering his head with his hands as though there's a hurricane outside. Were it not for the icy temperatures there very well could be. Ander tries to move but there's the pulsation in his skull that pulls him back into the sheets. He's useless to help his friend in the chaos. Their pains are too great that they must face them all alone.

Where is Polo? In the OR. The room is a silver glint and he thinks he's alone but he's wrong. She reveals herself the way vocals do on a track that has a long instrumental intro. Unexpectedly. She's soft and moves with grace.

He looks up at her with confusion and fear for she's looking right back at him.

"You can see me?" He asks.

She examines him, "I could ask you the same question."

She dips her shoulder and turns to look away from him at the infestation of fear and terror that manifests it's self in the very air ducts of this facility to tell him, "You're not from my world."

"What world would that be?" Polo keeps his eyes on her as she moves about the room around him.

She's stealthy, she's graceful, she's brilliant. Her features read human but he knows better.

"You're not dead in this life. She whispers and it's almost louder than her normal voice.

He shudders. He's cold and drenched in a spiritual sadness. All he can do is shake his head.

"You're something new." Her voice is cut out when the door opens and in comes, thrashing in their wake, a group of beaten individuals looking for refuge.

Both of them go unseen as the three people who just entered the room barricade the door. Whatever this is, as far as these two entities are concerned, it's beyond them. This is once again, wrong.

Cat Valentine trembles with her back against the wall. Her face is splotchy, her clothes are a sour smelling off color, and she's in a state of shock.

Lucy Stone punches the nearest cabinet door denting it with her knuckles, "It's got to be someone we know. Someone who's out to get us."

"You're trying to apply logic to an illogical situation. These things that are happening aren't some sort of karma or have some mysterious reasoning we need to unravel. This is the work of a madman and instead of playing along we need to be finding a way to break the system." Says Kendall Knight.

There's a twist in a gleam of light. Their eyes all center on the tape player dangling from the ceiling. Heart sink, fear bubbles up inside stomachs, so far it's beginning to look like there is... no... escape.

"Should they play or avoid it?" Asks Polo unheard by the other living beings in the room.

The spirit of Adele responds, "If they avoid it more people die."

"But their hands will be clean." Polo adds.

She shakes her head, "Guilty by association. They could have done something to prevent the problem."

"By feeding into terrorism." He comes up short as a loud sound comes from the operating table between his and Adele's spirits.

Beneath a blue sheet is the silhouette of a person. A deep breath is blocked from finding an air way. A gaping mouth is filled with fabric. Five panicked faces slowly register what's happening.

Kendall is the one who takes the opportunity to pull the sheet free and reveal the guy chained down to the table. Thick black curls, soft baby face, terror filled brown eyes, and a french accent pleading for help.

"Oh my God." Says Cat in a harsh whimper.

Detective Stone asks, "You recognize him."

"He's Pierre Boo. From Tik Tok. He and his ex went viral for seven years and they broke up this summer. It kind of shocked the gay community. They're essentially everyone's dream pair. Cute, young, and impossible." She gets closer and reaches out her hand to his.

He takes it but only for a moment. There's a deep woe about our victim. A disinterest. Like he couldn't possibly care any less about his predicament.

On his bare, muscly, hairless chest is a thick piece of plastic underneath a long stretch of duct tape. Written, in a black sharpie, over his left peck, is the phrase 'Play Me'. The three nonentities all share a glance. One that begs the questions; "What do we do?"

If you've yet to hear Tommee Profitt's rendition of Carol of the Bells you've never been too invested in a cryptic holiday story. For our trio of 'heros' this is very much not what their Christmas was supposed to be. Kendall is used to his husband going out on dangerous excursions and rescuing the innocent but he at least hoped for red wine and their annual trip to the bridge out near the aquarium that's lit up this time of year with twinkling, colored lights, amidst the fog with their coffee and their whispers of sweet nothings. Cat Valentine was supposed to be filming for a romantic hallmark film where she'd very slightly resist the affections of a character played by Nicholas Holt only to cave before Christmas day and win over the hearts of the towns people with their orphans that put on a kind little play in the square as they light up the tree. Detective Lucy Stone would have been with Carlos investigating some abandoned building or patrolling the homeless centers as generous locals offer up helping hands in hot food dishes, fresh warm clothing, and unexpected family visitations in the name of holiday spirit. Poor Pierre would have just been sitting at home sipping scotch and staring out his window feeling just as hollow and empty as he does now.

Polo, in his invisible state turns to Adele to ask, "Do you hear music?"

"I always hear music. You should return to your friends before you're stuck in this world forever, young thing." She warns.

He shrugs, "I don't think I can control it."

"This is going to be chaotic. Lets hope you can handle it." She whispers.

He doesn't say it out loud, out of respect, but he does remember that night in Las Encinas when he watched Carla and Christian get brutally murdered. Only four people survived that massacre and he was one of them. He's still recovering but he doesn't really have a choice. Disappearing is a trick that always leaves destruction in it's wake.