1 Terror in Hospital Night (1/2)

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared into the horizon, the world was plunged into darkness. The evening shadows deepened, creating an eerie and ominous atmosphere.

The sky was filled with a dense layer of clouds that blocked out any remaining light, making it difficult to see. The moon was barely visible through the haze, adding to the sense of foreboding.

Everything appeared to be still and frozen, as if time had come to a standstill. The air was thick and heavy, and there was an eerie silence that hung over the bustling hospital. It was usually a place of noise and activity, but now it was quiet.

The only sound was the soft footsteps of the nurses and doctors as they hurried about their duties. The silence was deafening, and it only added to the sense of unease that had settled over the hospital.

It was clear that something terrible had occurred. The darkness and silence were a reflection of the despair and sadness that had descended upon the hospital and its inhabitants.

The nurses were in a rush as they moved about the hospital, their faces etched with worry and concern. They were followed by a crowd of people, who had assembled in the corridor, their whispers filling the space.

All eyes were wide open, their gazes locked on a young boy who lay at the center of the crowd. He seemed to be the focus of everyone's attention, and it was as if their eyes were magnetically drawn to him.

Their body was frozen and fingers were numb, as if they were in shock, and their throats were choked with emotion. They couldn't see the source of their fear, but they could feel it all around them.

The sight of the young boy, injured and helpless, was enough to break anyone's heart. In the center of the crowd, a man dressed in a black hoodie stood, holding a bloodied knife casually as if it was an everyday object and not a weapon of death.

The knife dripped with blood, the crimson liquid pooling on the white linoleum floor beneath him. The man stood there, seemingly unfazed by the attention he was receiving.

His presence was unsettling, and the tension in the air was palpable. It was a scene that no one would ever forget, a moment of terror that would be etched in their minds forever.

He looked down at the boy with a twisted sense of satisfaction, relishing in the sight of the blood that covered the boy's body. The boy's body was slumped against the wall, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. It was clear that he had suffered multiple wounds.

His legs trembled as he tried to stand, but his body gave out and he fell back against the wall. Andrew's face was contorted in pain, his eyes closed tightly as he struggled to stay alive. But it was clear that he was losing the fight. The trail of blood that ran down the wall behind him was a grim reminder of the violence that had occurred.

The man who had committed the crime stood there, watching the boy die. The sight of a dying body was a source of pleasure for him, and he relished in it. The boy's death was a tool for his own twisted pleasure. The scene was a gruesome and tragic one, and it left everyone who witnessed it horrified and heartbroken.

His eyes were bright, and his smile was wide, as he looked around at the shocked and horrified faces of those around him. It was clear that he had no remorse for his actions, and that he felt a sense of power and control as he watched Andrew die.

The nurses were in a state of panic as they saw the boy, Andrew, lying in a pool of his own blood. They moved frantically, their hands shaking as they tried to figure out what to do.

The nurses were giving him oxygen and started treating his injuries, trying to keep him alive but his wounds were too severe. They were struggling to keep up with the situation, their faces etched with worry and despair. It was clear that they were doing everything they could to save Andrew, but it might not be enough.

"Sir Andrew!" they cried, but there was no response from the boy. Andrew tried to blink twice, but his vision became fuzzier and fuzzier. His fingers grew cold, and it became increasingly difficult for him to move.

He was bleeding out, losing all of his strength with every passing second. The nurses could see the life draining out of him and they were powerless to stop it. His hearing was failing, and he knew that he didn't have much time left.

The last thing Andrew heard was the sound of the machines flatlining, signaling his death. The nurses were crying, their faces etched with sorrow, as they realized that they were unable to save him. The hospital room was filled with a solemn silence as they all grieved the loss of a young life.

His eyes were revealing the intensifying pain he was enduring. The pain was like a white-hot fire, searing through his body with every beat of his heart. He felt burning sensation that seemed to consume him from the inside out.

With every second, the pain grew worse, and a feeling of nothingness began to wash over him. It was as if he was being pulled into a bottomless pit, a void of nothingness.

The world around him began to fade, and he could no longer feel the warmth of the sun on his skin or the touch of the breeze on his face. He could barely hear the voices of the people around him, their words becoming nothing but a distant murmur.

The darkness consumed him, and he felt a sense of peace wash over him. He knew that he was finally free from the pain and suffering. He closed his eyes for the last time, and let go of the world.

'Is this the end?' he thought, unable to utter a word.

He had given up the will to live…

His eyes were shutting down, but still, he could see smears of color in the world around him…

The colors were dull and hazy, like a dream that he couldn't quite remember…

The light of life faded from his eyes, and he was gone, forever!...