Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen, #1)(59)

“Yes?” she asks, looking up from the computer and staring at him in question. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m new to the floor,” he easily answers. “And I need to get into the supply room. The code doesn’t seem to be working for me.”

“Of course, it isn’t,” she impatiently mutters. “I’ll see what I can do.” Pushing her chair out from beneath her, she stands, making her way out from behind the station. “Come with me.”

“I really appreciate it,” he tells her, shooting me one last, vigilant stare before following closely behind her down the hall.

Now’s my chance.

My only chance.

Keeping my head down, I make my way toward room 66. It’s dimly lit, and the door has been left slightly ajar. Shutting it quietly behind me, I make sure to pull down the blinds over the small, rectangular window in the door.

Immediately upon entering, there’s that overwhelming scent of disinfectant that I’ve always despised about hospitals, and the air in here is so damn stuffy. The faint drip of the transfusion and the quiet sighing of the ventilator sends a rush like no other straight through me.

And there he is.

Lying there, completely immobile. Helpless. As powerless as ever.

The beeping of the heart monitor makes me laugh.

Oh, Timothy.

I can’t wait to make you code.

After flipping on a dim light, I creep toward him, while ensuring to take in my surroundings. The walls are bare, painted pale yellow, and there’s hardly any decoration.

Except for the teddy bear and get-well card that have been left on his rather empty bedside table. Most likely from his family.

I’d send them my condolences… if I had them.

I’d get more pleasure in ripping off Teddy’s head and stuffing it down Timmy’s fucking esophagus.

Knowing I’m short on time, I make my way to his side, looking over his vitals on the screen. For now, he’s stable.

…But not for much longer.

Looking down, I examine the central line in his chest before looking the rest of him over. The parts of him that are visible, at least. His injuries are gruesome. He’s unrecognizable.

Suddenly, I find myself imagining the scene in my head.

The flames clinging to him. Sheets of his skin shedding. Blackened chunks of flesh smoldering. The charred smell of torment. His screams of pure, undying agony.

It’s so picturesque.

I wish I could have witnessed it in real time.

But of course, the bastard had to ruin it and somehow make it out alive.

Most of his body is covered in white dressing and bandages. Even though there are tubes down his throat and up his nose, from what I can see of his face, he’s now badly disfigured. What’s left of his skin is heavily textured.

Leathery, and raw.

But he’ll find no pity here.

Leaning down, I adjust my mask below my chin, my mouth beside what little is left of his ear. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” I callously breathe out, taking in the sight of his raw, puffy eyelids. “I’m here on behalf of Quinn. You know, the girl you fucking tortured throughout her teenage years.” I hesitate, glancing up at the screen as his heart rate slightly quickens. I softly chuckle, dropping my gaze to the pulse ox device set on his pointer finger. “What? Cat got your tongue?” I jokingly say, before the light leaves my eyes. “You bastard. How the fuck did you make it out of the flames?” I sigh, clicking my tongue at him. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here. Well, Timmy… I’m a close friend of the devil, and I’ve come to send you to Hell.”

Once I silence the monitor, I reach into my scrubs’ pocket and retrieve the syringe. I inject the potassium into his IV, pushing it as fast as I possibly can, before observing his vitals with a devious grin.

“I hope you enjoy burning for all eternity,” I taunt. “Fuck you for hurting her.”

Quickly striding across the room, I pull up my face mask and drop the syringe into the sharps container, before casually stepping back out into the hall. I make my way back to the nurses’ station and try my best to appear busy, shuffling through loose papers on the desk.

I don’t even know how long it’s been before alarms start to sound from room 66, signaling that Timmy is now unstable.

“Help!” a woman’s voice loudly calls out from the hallway. “I need some help in here, STAT! Bring the crash cart!”

Suddenly, my endorphins skyrocket as he plummets.

Exiting the nurses’ station, I turn left, quickly striding down the hall in the direction of complete chaos.

“Code blue,” loudly resonates through the intercom. “Code blue.”

Looking over my shoulder, I notice Nurse Rivers suddenly appear from around the corner, bolting down the hall to her patient. Once I catch a glimpse of Micah quickly trailing behind her, and we lock eyes, I make my exit.

Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates in the pocket of my scrubs.



Killian:

There’s a survivor

They have yet to release a name



Timothy Schnyder, I swiftly shoot back.



Killian:

Oh?

I’ll send a few men to the hospital

To finish the job



The doors swing open, and Micah bursts through, eyes wide, his body pumping with adrenaline as he meets me at the end of the hall.