Chapter 4 - The Midnight Visit
At 11:30 PM, the hospital corridors were dead quiet. The fluorescent lights hummed a low, sterile tune.
Daniel and I were hiding in an empty supply closet just ten feet away from my parents’ room. We had cracked the door open a fraction of an inch, giving us a clear view of the hallway.
We had told Chloe that visitors were restricted until morning, knowing she would follow the rules. But Greg didn't care about rules. Greg cared about survival.
Just before midnight, the heavy double doors at the end of the hall swung open.
Greg walked in.
He wasn't wearing his usual tailored suit. He was dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, his head down, a surgical mask covering his face. He moved with a terrifying, silent urgency, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the nurse's station was empty.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Daniel placed a warm, steadying hand on my shoulder.
Greg reached the door to Room 412. He pushed it open and slipped inside, the heavy door clicking softly shut behind him.
“Now,” I whispered.
We slipped out of the closet and moved silently down the hall. I pulled my phone out, dialing the direct line to the lead detective on the case, a gruff man named Miller who I had updated hours earlier.
“We’re in the stairwell, Sarah,” Detective Miller’s voice crackled through my earpiece. “Is he inside?”
“He’s inside,” I breathed.
Daniel and I pushed the door to Room 412 open just an inch.
Inside the dimly lit room, Greg was standing over my father’s bed. He had pulled a small, medical-grade syringe from his pocket. The liquid inside glowed faintly under the monitor lights. He reached out, his hand wrapping around my father’s IV line, preparing to inject the lethal dose that would silence my dad forever.
He was so focused on the IV line that he didn't hear us step into the room.
“You’re going to need a bigger needle for a ghost, Greg,” I said loudly.
Greg violently flinched, dropping the syringe onto the linoleum floor. He spun around, pulling his mask down, his eyes wide with absolute, primal terror.
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Daniel stood blocking the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. I stood next to him, holding the original SD card from the living room camera up in the air.
“They weren't waking up tonight, Greg,” I said, my voice dripping with venom. “The doctors don't know if they ever will. But we knew that if we told you they were talking, you’d come back to finish the job.”
