The Infirmary

The infirmary was silent.

Too silent.

The fluorescent lights were still on, but there was no one at the front desk. No voices from inside either. Just the electrical hum—constant, uncomfortable, like the sound of a giant insect trapped inside the walls.

“That’s strange…” I murmur. “There’s always someone on duty.”

Lorcan doesn’t reply. He guides me to one of the examination beds and helps me sit down carefully.

“Stay here,” he says. “Don’t move.”

His tone is neutral. Too neutral. He starts rummaging through drawers as if he knows the place, then hands me a sterile gauze pad for my nose.

“Thanks for bringing me,” I say as I take it. “I still think all this drama over a ball was unnecessary.”

For a moment, Lorcan stops looking so serious.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “It was the least I could do.”

The words hang in the air. I still don’t fully understand what happened, but somehow Lorcan feels… responsible? I try to ask more, then remember my mouth still hurts.

“Ow…”

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling a stool closer to the bed and sitting down.

“I’ve survived worse. When I was little, my brother split my head open with a baseball bat.”

Lorcan looks at me, startled.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” I add quickly. “We were playing, I walked into the swing, and… well. Twelve stitches. Nothing serious.”

Lorcan laughs. It’s the second time I’ve heard him laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose compared to that, a ball to the face is just another day.”

I swallow. I think it’s time to ask.

“Lorcan,” I say, “about what happened earlier—”

Lorcan slowly stands up. He looks around, scanning the room. His body is tense. Ready for something.

“I’m going to look for the nurse,” he says, his expression returning to what it was before. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re leaving me alone here?” I gesture around the eerie room.

“Don’t worry. She can’t be far. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Lorcan exits through the door. I’m left alone, and the room immediately feels colder.

The hum of the lights seems louder now. I wipe some dried blood from my lip and nose. My face still burns.

“Great,” I think. “Paranormal ball trauma. Just another day.”

My head is still spinning. I lie back for a moment on the cold bed. Now the lights don’t just hum—some start flickering erratically, casting strange shadows.

“Maybe they really do need that budget,” I think. “I hate having to give Gabriel credit.”

Then I hear something else.

A wet, sticky sound. Like dragging footsteps over a soaked floor.

Something is very wrong.

I sit up instantly, which does nothing for my headache. I regret it at once.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

The sound seems to be coming from outside. And it’s getting closer.

“Lorcan? Is that you?”

A figure appears in the doorway.

It’s the nurse.

Or something wearing her uniform.

She walks… wrong. Her neck is tilted at an unnatural angle. Shoulders too high. Head cocked to the side, as if listening to something I can’t hear.

Instinctively, I retreat further into the infirmary and hide behind another bed.

“I know you’re here…” she says.

Her voice isn’t human. It sounds wrong—hollow, echoing. She advances slowly, almost dragging herself toward the beds. The air turns icy, so cold I feel it crawling beneath my skin.

“I need to get out of here…” I think.

My survival instinct kicks in halfway, dulled by the dizziness. That thing is distracted, searching the opposite side of the room. I could try to slip out behind it and pray the door isn’t closed.

The moment I start to move, a chill runs down my spine.

“There you are…” I hear behind me.

She shouldn’t be behind me.

“I—I’m sorry…” I try not to sound scared. I don’t even dare turn around. “I was in pain earlier, but I’m fine now.”

I try to run for the door, but I can’t. My legs won’t respond. I can feel what seems like her breath on the back of my neck. It’s freezing.

I manage to turn just enough to see—and I can’t explain what my eyes are seeing.

Her face is a pale, blurred mask of the nurse’s features. Where her eyes should be, there are only two deep, dark pits.

I struggle to breathe.

“You have so much energy…” it says.

The voice doesn’t seem to come from her mouth—or from whatever that hollow space is where a mouth should be.

I try to pull away, but the thing grabs my arm with incredible strength. Her fingers—or whatever those appendages are—are ice-cold. They burn against my skin.

I feel a tug. Not physical. Something deeper. As if something inside me is being drawn out. An abyssal fatigue—a sudden emptiness—floods me.

“Let go of me!” I finally manage to shout.

The thing convulses, emitting dry, almost rhythmic sounds. Clicks. Its body arches backward. Its mouth opens far too wide. From its throat, something dark and viscous crawls out like thick smoke.

I close my eyes instinctively. I can’t react.

Then—heat.

I open my eyes. I don’t see fire.

I see a familiar figure.

“Lorcan?”

He’s standing behind what used to be the nurse. I see the black shadow writhe, let out a shriek unlike anything I’ve ever heard—and ignite. It burns. After a few seconds, there’s nothing left of it.

The nurse stumbles backward and collapses to the floor. Her body hits the ground twice—the second time splashing something wet across my shirt and face. Lorcan turns toward her, raising an arm as if expecting me to approach.

The sound the nurse makes isn’t human. It’s a dry rattling, like poorly assembled bones clacking together.

I don’t look anymore.
I don’t wait.

I run.

I don’t know how I reach the door. I don’t know how I cross the campus. I don’t know how many times I almost fall.

All I can feel is my arm still burning, the hollow void inside me, and my heart trying to tear itself out of my chest.

I lock myself inside my apartment, bolt the door, and slide down to the floor.

I’m still bleeding.
And I can’t stop shaking.

The demon had already been consumed by fire. There was no more danger there.

The body, however, was still twitching—not much. Residual spasms. Nervous discharges without purpose.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the entire infirmary.

I remember Elena standing behind me seconds ago.

Now she’s gone.

That was the worst part.

She had seen too much. I can’t leave it like this.

“I can still erase her,” I think. “But doing it this way…”

I clench my jaw instinctively.

“This won’t be pleasant.”