Chapter 127: The Young Nurse

Chapter 127: The Young Nurse

A bunch of old memories hit James like a freight train.

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Dr. Sharp, I got your revenge."

He glanced at Joseph's lifeless body at his feet and wiped his eyes. "This has to end. Maybe it was all a mistake from the start."

Nobody wants to get infected. But when fate dumps it on you, what can you do but roll with it?

Hestia stood there behind the partition, looking blank and lost, just waving at James. All she could think about was food.

With shaky hands, he lifted the steel pipe and drove it into Hestia's forehead.

She dropped, no pain, no scream.

For her, it was a release. Late, but it came.

James tossed the steel rod aside, stumbled, and collapsed into a chair, staring at Aaron's corpse.

So many had already died for this.

What now?

Just then, his phone buzzed. It was Emily.

"James, where are you?"

Her voice was frantic, scared out of her mind. "Get here quick, it's chaos out here, people are killing each other."

James shot up from the chair, "What did you say?"

"I'm not lying."

Emily's voice shook. "A bunch of patients came to the hospital's outpatient department and started biting people. The head and other nurses went to help, but no word from them. Some folks who went out for food came back bitten. I called the cops, but no one's picking up."

"Stay at the nurse's station, don't move, hide somewhere."

James grabbed the steel rod and yelled into the phone, "Hang tight, I'm coming!"

He knew exactly what was happening.

Even he didn't think it would hit this fast.

Inpatient Department, Urology Nurse Station.

Emily peeked through a crack in the closet door. Sunlight streamed in from the corridor window, shining on an old lady named Wilhelmina.

She tilted her head, staring.

To be exact, she was staring at the closet.

Young girls always have endless stuff to chat about. Time and youth are their biggest assets to waste. Everything's a joke to them. Men, women, old folks, kids, suitors... Emily was no different. The young nurses would joke about the patients behind their backs.

In the Urology Inpatient Department, no one dared to mock Wilhelmina to her face. She was fierce. One bad word and she'd curse you out for hours. Even a slip of the tongue could set her off. She'd chase you floor to floor, cursing you till you wished you were never born.

At those times, doctors or nurses would come over and say: Let it go, don't stoop to her level. She's a patient.

Wilhelmina's eyes were empty, pupils gone. Her head stayed tilted, just enough to see the closet.

She couldn't turn over or get up.

From the neck down, her body was gone.

When a bunch of patients knocked her down like a fat pig, she hadn't moved since. They seemed to dislike her head, or maybe thought there wasn't much meat on it. They left her wrinkled, heavily made-up head, with eyeliner and eyebrow tattoos, and walked downstairs, leaving bloody footprints.

The air reeked of blood and stench. They'd eaten Wilhelmina's body, dragging her guts everywhere. Feces had leaked out of her intestines. The white walls were splattered with blood and filth, red, black, yellow, green... It looked like a surrealist painting gone wrong.

The closet space was tiny.

Luckily, Emily was quick on her feet. When a patient stumbled towards the nurse's station, she bolted. She yanked open the closet door, tossed out all the firefighting gear, and squeezed in with Isabella.

In a twisted way, they had Wilhelmina to thank. If she hadn't shown up in the corridor and screamed like a banshee, the patient wouldn't have shifted focus from the closet and made her their next meal.

Isabella had lied to Emily yesterday.

Emily had kicked her hard.

But that was history. When you're running for your life, you drag everyone along.

No one was outside, no noise.

Through the crack, Emily held her breath, sweat dripping down her forehead.

Wilhelmina's head lay sideways in the corridor. Damn, she was actually blinking at me. To be alive after being eaten like that, Emily was speechless.

If I'm not seeing things, then she must be a monster!

That was Emily's take.

From her angle, Wilhelmina's spine was still there, though many ribs had been snapped by the patients.

Emily suddenly remembered she had a knife in her backpack.

As soon as the thought hit, she couldn't stop thinking about her backpack.

I think I left it on the table?

No, the knife was heavy, so to avoid detection, I put it under the table. At ten in the morning, when the head nurse checked the room, I moved the backpack. I remember now, I took it into Room 22 and hung it with the patients' stuff.

Nurses had lockers for their personal items. But the head nurse in the Urology Inpatient Department was a stickler. She had a rule: no unrelated items allowed. During inspections, she even checked the nurses' lockers. No makeup, no lipstick, no blush. If it wasn't necessary for work, no cell phones either.

Emily had to hide her backpack with the patients' belongings.

A bitter smile crept on her face.

Karma!

At the time, she only thought about dodging inspection, not realizing it would bite her now.

The chaos started about twenty minutes ago.

The elevator doors opened as usual. A mob rushed out. They were frantic, their clothes torn, like they'd been through hell. Their clothes were filthy, covered in blood. Each person had blood pouring from their mouths. No, not pouring, spewing. Mixed with mucus and undigested food.

They were like a bunch of violent mental patients who'd just busted out of an asylum, attacking everything. Wilhelmina was the first target. More lunatics rushed into the wards, and soon, there were screams of pain and desperate cries for help.

The head nurse was brave. She quickly dialed 911, then grabbed an enamel tray from the table, shouting at a middle-aged man rushing towards her, and started bashing him on the head with the tray. She was strong, and when the man fell, there was a deep dent in his head. The terrifying change left the head nurse in shock. Just as she thought she might have accidentally killed someone, a disheveled old woman with bloodshot eyes lunged at her and bit off her neck.

The chaos in the ward gradually died down, no more screams, no more dying groans. The sound of eating grew louder and more numerous, like a horde of terrifying rats happily devouring unguarded grain in a warehouse.

Emily bit her lip hard, holding Isabella's waist tightly with her left hand and covering her mouth with her right. In the chaos, two buttons of Isabella's nurse uniform had been torn off, her neckline open low, revealing a large expanse of smooth skin. Under Emily's arm and hand, her chest was squeezed into an extremely enticing shape, with a deep cleavage.

Emily remembered clearly: that night, James had held her like this, whispering softly in her ear.

If one day, you see something terrifying, insanely beyond normal understanding, see creatures that look human or have turned from humans into monsters, hold your breath and try not to make a sound.

Remember, they have no vision, but their hearing and sense of smell are far superior to ours.

They are stronger than humans, and their heads are the only weak point.