Chapter 178: Whom Did He Replace? |
Word count: 5,5k !!!!
Yu Xiao’s mind went blank, and the world around her dissolved into an icy abyss. Darkness pressed in from all sides, stealing her voice before she could even cry out.
Finally, a shudder rippled through her.
“Precious? Misty?” she whispered, her voice thin and reedy.
Only the wind answered, whistling a mournful tune through the empty ward.
“Misty!” Panic welled up in Yu Xiao’s chest, choking her. “Precious!”
She scrambled for the light switch, flooding the room with a harsh, unforgiving glare. Chaos greeted her. Furniture lay overturned, bedsheets ripped from the mattress, and a trail of bloody footprints stained the linoleum floor like a macabre painting.
Her breath hitched in her throat. The footprints were large, far too large to belong to either Misty or Precious.
But how? Misty always locked the ward door.
Yu Xiao sank to her knees, her hand trembling as she pulled out her phone.
“Sorry, the number you are calling is currently unavailable…” a robotic voice chirped.
Relief washed over her, fleeting but potent. If Zhao Lan’s phone was out of service, it meant she was still out there, alive. Hope flickered, only to be extinguished when she tried Precious’s number. This time, a cheerful pop song blasted from beside her.
Precious’s phone. Abandoned on the bed.
Pressing her hand to her forehead, Yu Xiao fought to rein in the fear that threatened to consume her. She didn’t have all the answers, but one thing was clear: a ghost had infiltrated their sanctuary. The same malevolent entity that had been terrorising hospitals across this hellish place. How it had bypassed Misty’s key lock, she had no idea. But it was clear that they had been forced to flee, leaving everything behind.
Her gaze drifted towards the darkened doorway. She had ventured out there twice before, always with Goldie, the three-headed guard dog, by her side. The one time she had walked those halls alone, she had worn Goldie’s work badge like a shield—a beacon that kept the shadows at bay.
But Misty and Precious had no such protection. Their talismans would only last so long, their tools useless against this new threat. Out there, in the echoing silence of the hospital, they were vulnerable.
Beside her, Nightmare watched her every move. He was a silent observer, his presence both comforting and unnerving.
Yu Xiao pushed herself to her feet, feeling a sudden surge of determination. She tore open the cupboard, her heart sinking as she saw their cache of tools and function cards untouched. They hadn’t even had time to arm themselves.
The door hung precariously from its frame, with splintered wood as a testament to the force used to break it open. Misty wouldn’t have been able to lock it again.
Turning to Nightmare, she simply said, “I have to find them.”
He didn’t speak but fell into step beside her as she moved towards the door, the hallway yawning before them like the mouth of some monstrous beast. Which way had they gone? The question echoed in the silence, every shadow a potential hiding place, every whisper of wind a phantom cry for help.
“To the right,” Nightmare rasped.
Yu Xiao shot him a questioning look. “I sense something,” he elaborated, his tone brooking no argument.
“Misty! Precious!” Yu Xiao didn’t hesitate, breaking into a jog down the corridor. The thought that her shouts might attract unwanted attention prickled at the back of her mind, but finding her friends was paramount. Every second wasted was a second closer to disaster.
Nightmare followed, a silent spectre radiating the raw power of a top-tier monster. Cowering ghosts melted further into the shadows at his passing, desperate to become one with the dust and grime. He was enraged, his fury a tangible presence.
“Misty!” Yu Xiao’s voice echoed down the desolate corridor. “Precious!”
“Misty!!!” She stopped, straining to listen.
Was that…
“Woo-woo-woo…”
A soft, muffled sobbing reached her ears.
“Precious, is that you?” she called out tentatively.
“Misty, what should we do?” The voice, choked with tears, came from just around the corner.
It was Precious!
“Precious…” Yu Xiao rounded the corner at a run, her phone clutched like a lifeline, its feeble light cutting through the oppressive darkness.
A huddled shape emerged from the shadows. Yu Xiao whipped out her phone, its feeble light illuminating the figure and revealed the decaying purple flesh.
The thing squatted on the ground. Its eyes were rotted away, replaced by oozing, pus-filled sockets that swivelled towards Yu Xiao with a sickening shlurp.
The figure’s head lolled at an unnatural angle, its neck emitting a sickening crack as it tried to right itself. Then, in a voice that sent shivers down Yu Xiao’s spine (because it sounded suspiciously like Precious), it moaned, “Boo-hoo… boo-hoo… Misty, what do we do?”
As the monstrosity lurched to its feet, continuing its mournful serenade, Yu Xiao clutched a wad of talismans, her bravado momentarily deserting her.
“Strong one,” Nightmare murmured in her ear. “Hold tight, I got this.”
With that, Nightmare launched himself at the thing like a furry missile. He collided with it in a heap of claws and fur, the impact sending the monstrosity sprawling. It didn’t seem too fazed, though. It just twisted its head at an even more horrifying angle and sank its teeth into Nightmare’s neck.
**
Escaping from the ward, Zhao Lan and Zhou Xiao Zhen were surprised to find that the corridor was less treacherous than they had expected. They sprinted through the hospital, their footsteps echoing in the silent halls until finally they burst into the cool night air.
Standing outside the dilapidated building, shrouded in an unnatural black mist, they could scarcely believe their luck. They had actually escaped. But their relief was short-lived.
The eerie silence was broken only by the unsettling gurgle coming closer, and the oppressive darkness felt heavy with unseen dangers.
“What now?” Zhou Xiao Zhen whispered, clutching Zhao Lan’s arm, her voice tense with fear. “Are we going to die?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Zhao Lan hissed, her eyes scanning their surroundings. Behind them, footsteps. The ghost. There was no time for panic.
“This way.” She grabbed Zhou Xiao Zhen’s hand, pulling her into the swirling mist.
“It’s so thick,” fretted Zhou Xiao Zhen, stumbling over unseen obstacles. “We’ll never find our way back.”
Zhao Lan, with her senses on high alert, navigated the darkness by feel. The stench of blood hung heavy along with the gurgling sound behind them.
“We need to lose it,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart. “Once we’re safe, we’ll contact Smiley.”
“But my phone…” Zhou Xiao Zhen’s voice faltered. “And yours got smashed…”
“Don’t worry,” Zhao Lan reassured her. “She’ll find us. I’ve been leaving talismans. Ghosts can’t touch them. As long as they’re intact…”
Zhou Xiao Zhen nodded, holding onto her friend’s confidence.
The footsteps were getting closer. Then, blessed relief – solid ground beneath Zhao Lan’s feet.
“This way,” she whispered, pulling Zhou Xiao Zhen along.
As if by magic, the mist thinned and then vanished entirely. Blinking in the sudden light, they stared in disbelief at the scene before them.
A wide, bustling street stretched ahead, a chaotic symphony of car horns and shouting vendors. Towering skyscrapers pierced the sky, dwarfing the decrepit hospital behind them.
“Where…?” Zhou Xiao Zhen stammered, utterly bewildered.
Zhao Lan turned. The black mist seethed behind them, a portal to a nightmare they had barely escaped.
“The world we saw from the amusement park,” she realised.
“The ghost…” Zhou Xiao Zhen glanced back. “It’s here.”
Zhao Lan didn’t need to look. She could feel its malevolent presence, a shadow creeping towards them. “We need to enter there.”
“What?” Zhou Xiao Zhen squeaked, her eyes wide with terror.
“Into the city,” Zhao Lan clarified, pointing towards the bustling crowds.
“No!” Zhou Xiao Zhen grabbed her arm. “We’ll be assimilated, don’t you remember? We’ll become… someone else. We’ll be trapped forever!”
Panic clawed at Zhao Lan’s throat. “Smiley will find us.”
“Find us?” Zhou Xiao Zhen’s voice was a shriek. She clutched at her hair in despair. “We don’t have phones, she can’t reach us! And if she stays here searching, she’ll be assimilated too!”
The echo of their words was swallowed by the oppressive silence, broken only by the tat-tat-tat of approaching footsteps.
Zhao Lan reacted instantly, grabbing Zhou Xiao Zhen’s hand and yanking her forward. “Inside, now!”
Zhou Xiao Zhen stumbled, tears welling up as she cast a desperate look over her shoulder. “Wuwuwu… We’re never going back…”
Zhao Lan’s hand instinctively dived into her pocket, only to meet empty fabric. The talismans, their only protection, were gone.
Panic momentarily choked her, then a steely glint entered her eyes.
She released Zhou Xiao Zhen and shoved up her sleeve, revealing the dead man’s hand beneath. With a guttural cry, she dropped to a crouch and slammed her ghostly fist against the hard-packed earth.
Zhou Xiao Zhen gaped, fear morphing into confusion. “Misty! What in the heavens are you doing?”
Pain, sharp and searing, shot up Zhao Lan’s arm, but she gritted her teeth, ignoring the beads of sweat that sprung to her brow. One fist after another hammered against the ground.
“Misty,” Zhou Xiao Zhen’s voice trembled, “what’s gotten into you?”
Finally, Zhao Lan stopped. Her hand looked like it had gone five rounds with a possessed meat cleaver – bone protruding, spectral flesh hanging in shreds.
“We’re out of talismans,” Zhao Lan breathed, her face as white as funeral paper. “I’ll need to leave a trail, or Smiley won’t find us in this cursed place.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen shook her head, tears welling.
Zhao Lan forced a shaky smile. “Don’t cry, Precious. Big Sister Misty will protect you.”
“You’re crazy! But…” Zhou Xiao Zhen reached out, her hand trembling like a leaf in the wind. “Use my blood as well. To leave a mark.”
“Sure. Once my leaky faucet stops dripping, I’ll borrow yours, but for now…”
Grimacing, Zhao Lan extended her other hand. “Help me up. It’s not safe here, we need to keep moving.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen scrambled to support her, their arms a lifeline in the deepening gloom.
They stumbled forward, two figures leaning heavily against each other as they struggled towards the distant city lights.
Behind them, shrouded in the swirling darkness, a hulking black dog watched their retreat. It lowered its head and exhaled softly, a puff of breath that stirred a fallen talisman. The paper charm danced in the air for a moment, a fragile hope caught in the breeze, before landing with a soft plop in the river of blood.
“I’ve figured it out,” Zhao Lan whispered, her voice raspy. “This place… it messes with your head. If we stay too long, we’ll forget everything, become… like them.”
A shiver ran down Zhou Xiao Zhen’s spine. “What can we do?”
Zhao Lan’s eyes settled on a nearby house, its silhouette stark against the hospital across the street. “There. We need to ground ourselves. Find a room, lock ourselves in. Away from all this. The master key should still work.”
“Alright,” Zhou Xiao Zhen agreed, tightening her grip on Zhao Lan’s arm as they navigated the treacherous path towards the residential area.
The moment they entered the compound, an elderly woman, out for her evening stroll, smiled at them. “Precious, back from work already?”
Zhou Xiao Zhen, heart hammering against her ribs, kept her head bowed and pressed onward, fear glueing her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Zhao Lan, noticing the blood on her arm was drying too quickly, discreetly reopened the wound with a sharp tug of her fingernail. Fresh crimson welled up, a gruesome beacon in the darkening night.
“Aiyo!” The old lady squawked, her eyes widening at the sight of Zhao Lan’s blood-soaked arm. “Child, what happened? You’re leaking like a broken teapot!”
“No time, Auntie,” Zhao Lan gasped, urging Zhou Xiao Zhen forward. “We need to keep moving.”
They staggered towards the nearest doorway and Zhou Xiao Zhen hammered on the wood with a desperate fist. “Hello? Anyone home?”
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice called from inside.
“It’s me!” Zhao Lan shouted back.
The door swung open, revealing a woman in a floral apron. Her face lit up with recognition. “Precious! Misty! What brings you two…”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Zhou Xiao Zhen, with the strength of a woman possessed, grabbed the woman’s collar, yanked her over the threshold, and tossed her unceremoniously onto the welcome mat.
“What on earth…?!” the woman sputtered, utterly bewildered.
Ignoring her protests, Zhou Xiao Zhen bundled Zhao Lan inside and slammed the door shut, the lock clicking with a reassuring finality. The woman’s indignant yells were muffled by the wood.
The flat was small, just two bedrooms, but mercifully empty. With a sigh that bordered on a sob, Zhao Lan collapsed onto the sofa, her face ashen.
“Misty, are you alright?” Zhou Xiao Zhen knelt beside her, her voice thick with worry.
“Lost a bit of blood, that’s all,” Zhao Lan mumbled.
“What do we do?” Panic edged into Zhou Xiao Zhen’s voice. “What should we do?”
Zhao Lan closed her eyes, her breath shallow. “Maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, fainting now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We’ll be assimilated soon,” Zhao Lan explained, her voice weak. “Who knows what we’ll become? What if…what if we open the door ourselves?”
“We can throw the key outside!” Zhou Xiao Zhen suggested, leaping to her feet.
“No. We might not find it again. Then even if Smiley finds us…” Zhao Lan trailed off, the thought too horrible to finish.
“So…we need the key, but we can’t open the door.” Zhou Xiao Zhen chewed her lip, her brow furrowed in thought. “But what if we…”
A slow smile spread across her face. “I have a plan.”
Zhao Lan’s vision was blurring at the edges, the room tilting around her. “What plan?”
“Don’t you worry, Misty,” Zhou Xiao Zhen said, her voice taking on a disturbingly cheerful lilt. “Just rest your eyes. I’ll take care of everything.” She glanced down at her hands, a mischievous glint in her eye. “And I’ll find something to stop the bleeding for you.”
“Just tie it tightly,” Zhao Lan gasped. “Duct tape, hair tie, belt, whatever.”
“Right,” Zhou Xiao Zhen scrambled up and dashed to her room, rummaging for something, anything that could help. A belt would have to do.
By the time she returned, Zhao Lan had slumped against the wall, unconscious. With a shuddering breath, Zhou Xiao Zhen secured the belt around her friend’s arm, pulling it taut.
She stumbled back, pressing herself against the wall, as far away from the door as possible.
Taking a deep breath, Zhou Xiao Zhen prepared herself. The only way to keep the door shut and stay fully alert was to DIY a broken arm.
With a grimace that would make even a seasoned horror movie fan flinch, Zhou Xiao Zhen forcefully slammed her arm against the protruding corner of the wall. A satisfying crack echoed through the room.
***
Meanwhile, down the hall, a battle raged.
Nightmare tore into the shadowy monstrosity with ferocity. The monstrosity, emitting a cacophony of disturbing growls, fought back with unexpected agility for a creature made from spare body parts.
Finally, with a powerful rip, Nightmare decapitated the thing and tossed the head aside like a discarded chew toy. The severed limbs twitched and writhed on the floor, creating a horrifying display of post-mortem acrobatics.
“Done,” Nightmare grunted, shaking himself off.
Yu Xiao nodded, her expression grim. “Then let’s keep moving.”
“Sure, sure.” But instead of moving, Nightmare simply dissolved, reappearing as a tiny, pale yellow kitten at Yu Xiao’s feet.
“Nightmare?” Yu Xiao crouched down, concern filling her voice. “What is it?”
“Just…tired,” the kitten mumbled, eyes squeezed shut. Its voice was thin, fragile. “Carry me for a bit? Need to rest.”
Yu Xiao knew it was more than exhaustion, but now wasn’t the time for questions. She scooped up the kitten, cradling it close, and continued down the desolate street.
The only sound was the rhythmic tap, tap of her own footsteps, echoing in the heavy silence. Then, another set of footsteps joined hers, faint at first, but growing steadily closer.
At the same moment, the small weight in her arms shifted. Nightmare’s eyes flickered open, narrowed to slits. Danger crackled in the air.
A hulking, black, three-headed dog swaggered around the corner, regarding them with an air of bored indifference.
“Oops, I’m late,” the middle head said.
“Apologies for the delay,” the left head rumbled, its voice a low growl.
Yu Xiao fixed the creature with a withering stare. “Let me guess,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm, “this chaos is your idea of order?”
“Now, now, be fair,” protested the middle head, its three mouths moving in unnerving unison. “My jurisdiction is the hospital, not the patients. Besides, I assumed that rogue spirit had moved on to the First Hospital. Who knew it would linger here?”
Yu Xiao didn’t have time for this. “Can you find my friends?” she demanded, her voice tight with worry. “Zhao Lan and Zhou Xiao Zhen?”
“Certainly,” the dog replied. The right head dipped low to the ground, sniffing at the pavement. Yu Xiao followed closely, their bizarre procession ending at the hospital entrance.
The dog’s heads swivelled upwards, regarding the building with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “Interesting,” the middle head murmured. “They’ve passed beyond.”
“Beyond?” Yu Xiao peered out. “What do you mean?”
“That city,” the dog explained, its voice taking on a philosophical tone, “it’s built on the lingering thoughts of the deceased. A reflection of the living world, but far more potent, far more… insidious.”
Yu Xiao understood. This was the same place she’d encountered outside the Lolita Amusement Park, a place where memories congealed into a tangible and terrifying reality.
“Countless souls, countless years,” the dog continued, its voice laced with a hint of warning. “Their thoughts are a powerful current. Any living being, even a monster like myself, risks being swept away, assimilated into the fabric of this place.”
The dog paused, three pairs of eyes fixed on Yu Xiao. “Turn back,” it advised. “It’s not worth the risk.”
But Yu Xiao merely laughed, a sharp, humourless bark that echoed strangely in the stillness.
The dog blinked, all six eyes wide with surprise. “What’s so amusing?”
“Oh, nothing,” she replied, her voice deceptively light. “Just take me to your Director.”
…
She’d walked this path before, but this time, she had Nightmare at her side.
The familiar ferry awaited, its prow disappearing into the swirling mist. But this time, a tattered flag fluttered from its mast, bearing the crudely painted words: “Stinking Ditch Ferry.”
Yu Xiao raised an eyebrow at the dog, who squirmed under her gaze.
“The Director thought you might appreciate the… personal touch,” one of the heads mumbled, its voice barely audible.
“Did your Director orchestrate all of this?” Yu Xiao asked, her gaze steady on the three-headed dog.
The three heads, as if on cue, swivelled in different directions. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” the left head mumbled, its voice muffled by a sudden bout of fake coughing.
“That ghost is powerful, I’ll grant you that,” she continued, her voice deceptively mild. “But Nightmare here,” she gestured to the sleepy kitten in her arms, “he could handle it. Your security team used to chase down his kind without breaking a sweat. It doesn’t make sense to let such a nuisance linger in the hospital, does it?”
The three-headed dog shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Her calmness was far more unnerving than any outburst.
Yu Xiao reached out, placing a hand on the creature’s back. Its muscles tensed, then relaxed slightly as she began to gently stroke its fur.
“Does your Director ever do this?” she asked softly.
The three heads remained silent, their eyes fixed on a distant point in the mist.
“What will you do,” she murmured, her voice barely audible above the lapping of the water against the hull, “when no one pats you anymore?”
Silence greeted her question. The only sound was the mournful cry of a distant bird, swallowed by the fog.
The ferry bumped against the shore, jolting them back to reality. The three-headed dog shook off her touch as if burned, scrambling off the boat and onto the familiar, yet unsettling, streets of the Director’s domain.
“Do you like it here?” Yu Xiao asked Nightmare, stroking his soft fur as they disembarked.
“As long as you’re here,” came the muffled reply.
“Then it seems we’re staying,” she said, a steely glint in her eye. “Let’s try to make the best of it, shall we?”
The house loomed before them, its retro grandeur a stark contrast to the desolate cityscape. Warm light spilled from the windows, beckoning them inside. Yu Xiao, dispelling any need for guidance, headed straight for the Director’s study.
The three-headed dog, its tail tucked between its legs, hesitantly knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
The study was unchanged: bookshelves lined the walls, their contents whispering forgotten secrets, and a fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room. However, the Director himself…he was different. Gone was his usual casual attire. Tonight, he wore a finely tailored black tailcoat, his silver hair neatly combed. He sat behind his desk, a predatory smile playing on his lips.
Yu Xiao met his gaze, her own expression unreadable. In their past encounters, she’d always found his smile unsettling. Now she understood why. It was the smile of a predator, finally ready to reveal its hand.
“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the chair opposite him. “Can I offer you some refreshment? Tea? Or perhaps something a little stronger?”
Yu Xiao gracefully lowered herself into the chair, her gaze never leaving his. “What do you drink?” she asked, her voice deceptively casual.
“Wine.”
“Then wine it is.”
The Director nodded, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. He rose from his chair and moved towards a nearby cabinet, its shelves stacked with crystal decanters and bottles of exotic liquors. He personally selected a bottle, the firelight glinting off its dark glass, and poured a generous measure into a waiting glass.
The game had begun.
“You orchestrated this entire thing, didn’t you?”
The Director didn’t bother denying it. He swirled the crimson liquid in his glass, his eyes gleaming with an unusual light.
“Before we get into that,” he said, his voice as smooth as silk, “maybe you’d like to hear about your predecessor?”
“Will this delay me from saving Misty and Precious?” she asked, growing impatient.
“Not at all,” he assured her, taking a leisurely sip of his drink. “It all started twenty years ago, with the arrival of a very interesting patient. Brilliant mind, unconventional thinking, unwavering courage…sound familiar?” He paused, letting the silence between them become heavy. “In just a year or two, he had earned enough points to be discharged.”
“And you saw an opportunity,” Yu Xiao said, her gaze steady. “An opportunity to escape this place.”
“Exactly.”
Yu Xiao frowned, a thought occurring to her. “Why choose from among the patients? Surely there were countless ghosts here, eager to rule in your place?”
The Director chuckled, a low, chilling sound. “All in due time, my dear,” he said, taking another sip of his wine. “All in due time.”
He continued his story. “I went to great lengths to secure his cooperation. And in the end, he agreed.” A flicker of something crossed his face, perhaps pride. “I brought him here, to this very room, and personally taught him how to be the Horror Hospital Director.”
He reached into a drawer and retrieved a small, intricately carved box. Inside, resting on a bed of crimson velvet, was a simple jade seal.
“I gave him the symbol of my authority,” the Director whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Allowed him to experiment, to push the boundaries of his power. I turned a blind eye to his little schemes, his manipulations…” His voice hardened. “I was so eager to get rid of this place that I overlooked the most obvious dangers.”
Yu Xiao reached out, picking up the seal. It felt cool and smooth in her hand, surprisingly heavy.
“Is this all it takes?” she asked quietly. “To be the Director?”
“Only half,” he replied, his gaze fixed on hers.
“Did he find a way to deal with the Yin energy?”
“Yes.”
“And how did he do that?” Yu Xiao pressed, her heart pounding.
The Director threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the silent room. “Now, why would I tell you that?”
“You said you would tell me everything,” she reminded him, her voice firm. “If you want me to willingly take your place, shouldn’t you reveal all your cards?”
“The answers you seek are right before your eyes,” the Director purred, with a hint of amusement in his voice. “But you seem blind to them. Do you truly believe I divulged all this for you to simply follow in your predecessor’s footsteps?”
Yu Xiao took a steadying breath, her fingers tightening around the jade seal. “You can save them,” she stated, her voice devoid of inflection. “Zhao Lan and Zhou Xiao Zhen.”
“Indeed, I can,” he agreed, his tone maddeningly casual. “But I won’t.”
Fury flashed in her eyes, but before she could unleash it, he continued, his voice softening. “However, *you* can save them.”
He rose from his chair and circled the desk, stopping directly in front of her. With a flourish, he shrugged off his tailcoat, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle.
Yu Xiao watched in stunned silence as he proceeded to shed his waistcoat, then began unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. Was this some bizarre power play, some twisted attempt to assert his dominance? Her mind reeled, struggling to grasp the situation as he stood before her, bare-chested, his lean frame surprisingly toned for someone who seemed to spend most of his existence behind a desk.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” she finally managed, her voice a blend of confusion and outrage.
“You asked why my successor must be a living soul,” he said, ignoring her question. He raised his left hand, pressing it against his chest, directly over his heart. “This,” he said, his voice low and intense, “is the other half of the Director.”
Yu Xiao stared at him, utterly bewildered. “The other half?”
“A heart forged from the lingering obsessions of countless souls,” he explained, his voice taking on a strange, distant quality. “The very core of this hospital, its beating heart.” His fingers tightened against his chest, digging into his flesh, but his expression remained unchanged. “I cannot remove it. I cannot escape it.”
“Then…” she began, her mind racing.
“Unless,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing hers, “a vibrant, living vessel accepts this heart, it will never leave me.” His eyes held hers, unwavering. “The obsessions of the dead crave life, and you, my dear, are brimming with it.”
Yu Xiao’s gaze dropped to his chest, her mind struggling to process this new, horrifying information. “You’re suggesting I…take your heart?”
“Not take,” he corrected, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Receive. Embrace.”
“And what of my own heart?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“The Yin energy will consume it,” he said, his tone almost gentle. “Slowly, inevitably. You will become a creature of this place, a true Director, able to walk freely in both worlds, unbound by the limitations of flesh and bone.”
“And I could save them,” she breathed, the truth of his words settling over her like a shroud. “But I would be trapped here, forever.”
He inclined his head, his smile widening. “Unless, of course, you find another willing soul to inherit this burden.”
Yu Xiao had not yet carved out her heart, but she already felt a searing pain that another would feel if she did the same.
“I won’t do it,” Yu Xiao declared, her back straight as she met the Director’s gaze. “This hospital ends with me.”
The Director’s smile remained unchanged, his head tilting slightly to the side. “Your friends may be safe for now, but time has a way of eroding even the strongest protections.”
“Then take it,” Yu Xiao challenged, her unwavering voice. “Take my heart.”
With a graceful movement, the Director bent down and took her hand, pressing it against his chest. “Tell me, what do you feel?”
The chill that seeped into her palm was like touching a tomb. “Cold,” Yu Xiao breathed.
“And knowing that,” the Director murmured, his eyes holding hers, “do you accept?”
“Yes.”
He lifted his hand, reaching for the place where Yu Xiao’s heart beat beneath her ribs.
Nightmare, who had been perched on a nearby chair, suddenly sprang up, shifting into his human form in a blink. He lunged forward to intervene, but Yu Xiao caught his eye and shook her head, a soft, sad smile on her lips.
The Director’s hand pierced into Yu Xiao’s chest, and she spat out a mouthful of fresh blood before losing consciousness under Nightmare’s sorrowful gaze.
Gently, the Director lowered her onto the bed. Where her heart had been, there was now only an empty cavity, a void in her chest. Yet, impossibly, she still clung to life, her breath shallow but steady. His hand was drenched in blood, clutching a heart that still throbbed with life.
The Director turned to Nightmare, his smile distorting into a grotesque parody of its former self. “Why the long face, Nightmare? Isn’t this what you desired, for her to remain by your side?”
Nightmare knelt beside the bed, his gaze fixed on Yu Xiao’s face, serene as if in a peaceful sleep.
“I don’t understand,” he admitted, his voice ragged. “She chose this. To stay. I thought… after countless years surrounded by death, finally something other than loneliness. But seeing her like this, choosing this eternity… all I feel is a bone-deep sorrow.”
“Perhaps,” the Director mused, his voice like silk over steel, “this is what the living call love.”
“Love?” Nightmare echoed, the word foreign on his tongue.
“A sentiment wasted on those who breathe,” the Director replied, glancing down at the heart cradled in his palm. He licked his lips before handing the heart to Nightmare. “Keep it safe. It is yours to guard now.”
Nightmare accepted the heart, his fingers closing around it with a reverence that contradicted his monstrous nature.
The Director pressed his hand to his own chest, his eyes closed as if listening to a secret symphony. “Yes,” he whispered, a hint of something hungry in his voice. “I can feel it… the desire, the longing… It yearns, you see. Yearns for a vessel, for the vibrancy of life…”
**
When Yu Xiao opened her eyes, a strange stillness had settled over her. It wasn’t that she had forgotten; the memories were all there, sharp and clear, but they felt distant, like echoes in a vast, empty chamber. The frantic need to save Misty and Precious, the roiling emotions that had always driven her – they were gone, leaving behind a chilling emptiness.
She lay there for a time, taking stock of the silence within and without, until she sensed him – Nightmare – beside her.
Sitting up, she met his gaze, her own reflection staring back from his dark eyes. She lifted a hand to her chest. It was silent, her own heart absent. Yet, in its place, a new kind of power hummed beneath her fingertips, potent and intoxicating. She could feel the strength of Nightmare as if it were her own, knew with chilling certainty that she could crush him with a thought. The entire hospital, its very essence, thrummed in her blood.
“Where is the Director?” she asked, her voice devoid of inflection.
“Discharged,” Nightmare replied, his tone carefully neutral.
“Whom did he replace?”
“No one. He left as himself.”
Yu Xiao frowned, a flicker of her old annoyance breaking through the calm. “He was a patient?”
“Yes,” Nightmare confirmed, sinking gracefully onto one knee. He picked up her foot, his touch surprisingly gentle as he helped her into her shoes.
So the old fox hadn’t told her everything. Hadn’t mentioned that he, too, had once been under the hospital’s ‘care’, hadn’t warned her about the price of power, the emotions it would leech away. But even as the thought crossed her mind, it dissipated, leaving behind only the unsettling tranquillity.
“Let’s go get Misty and Precious,” she said, standing.
Nightmare opened the study door for her, his movements fluid, almost subservient. Outside, the three-headed hellhound guarding the entrance lifted its heads, six eyes fixing on Yu Xiao with an unsettling intensity. Then, with a whimper, it lay back down, tucking its heads under its paws.
Yu Xiao didn’t even pause. “Goldie is relieved of duty. Nightmare will head security from now on.”
“Understood.”
“As for Goldie,” she continued, her voice as cold and sharp as shattered ice, “it can go plant lotus roots in the ditch. Perhaps when they bloom, it can apply for a new position.”
“Understood.”