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Description
Blood is pounding through my ears; I can feel it flushing to my face and draining from my legs as I push them further and further. I have to run away. I have to make it.
My shoes are squeaking on the disinfected floor; the smell hits me with every breath I take and I push on further and further. Mist fills my eyes as I reach a split road at the end of the corridor, forking left I break for stairs.
It's crazy that just this morning we were on a field trip to one of the largest hospitals in the north; it was a trek but the biology class were pretty much all aspiring doctors so it was the trip of the year for us. Then slowly, we started to lose people; one in the children's ward, one in the x ray room, one in the operating theatre. As we continued the tour our group got smaller. When the missing people started turning up as corpses the hospital was evacuated but our group got split. I have no idea who is in here and who isn't but I saw someone try to leave before; they were struck down before getting within ten feet of the door.
Someone in our group is after us.
I'm so panicked I can't think, I can barely breathe and it's getting worse the more I run but I just can't stop. My friends are here somewhere, they would never attack us. I need to find them.
I hear a clanging noise to the left of me, in one of the rooms I've passed. What if it's them? The killer? I turn and make a frantic right. The rooms are getting more spread out, but I don't know if it is because they are getting bigger or if this is just a quieter part of the hospital. The number of beds and equipment hanging around outside the rooms diminishes as I see signs pointing to the chapel, but I fork off and head towards the morgue; surely nobody would go there?

Its cold in here, after a frantic check of the room I am now crouched under one of the rolling tables that they put the cadavers on; every breath moves it slightly but I'm alone so I suppose it doesn't matter; you'd really have to be looking for the movement anyway. That's my theory.
Time passes but I cant measure it; for all I know it could be ten minutes since I hid here but the point is my legs are dead, if I don't move soon I wont be able to run away if I need to; cautiously, my legs spread out from under the table and I utter a silent moan of relief; the blood is so warm its painful.
The room is thin but long; there are tables full of corpses arranged in symmetrical rows, sheets pulled over their faces with just their toes sticking out. Hooped around each big toe is a piece of string with a tag attached displaying their name, age and date of death. It's so quiet in here I'm holding my breath as to not make a sound; this is the only place in the hospital where death is expected and I'm here to avoid it. Trespassing on illegal territory.
The table to the left of me has a sheet that has fallen back over the foot of the ex-person, and I can see a small tattoo that starts on the toe and curls over the side of the foot; I recognise this tattoo. This intricate set of lines was designed for Melissa by her sister and paid for by her mother. I peel back the sheet from the face and instantly recognise her. Spinning on my heels, I whip back the sheet of the adjacent table to find Nathaniel, the class clown.

They're all here. All the missing students are here.
They've been here.
I crouch low again, pacing the length of the room to the window to the corridor, peeking out I see another room. Following the wall along reveals an archway into the viewing room; where the relatives can view the dolled up deader. It'd be safer in there, far away from the prying eyes through the windows in this room. The viewing room is for private goodbyes, it has no windows.
As I crawl into the room and raise up onto my knees by the cadaver table, my eyes come level with the bloody, white and wide eyes of Caleb. His normally longish but neat hair is wild, resembling an afro around him as he tilts his head, as his mouth widens into a smile.
"Albany, is that you?"
My whimper of fear gives me away as he stands up and leaps off the table, never once taking that insane grin off his face.
"It IS you! I've been looking for you." He tuts and flicks his hair back from his eyes "Well, I was until that bitch Natalie got my eyes, now I'm listening for you...

And here you are!"
"Wh... Why are you doing this Caleb?"
"My dear, why not? Don't worry though, I'd never hurt you. My little princess"
"I don't und... understand"
"You don't need to; I am here and you are here. Let me just finish up here a moment..." He turns round and picks up the scalpel he was wielding, making a clean cut across the throat of Megan, who always had a crush on him despite the fact he was a complete loner in the class. As he curves the blade round it looks like she is smiling her last smile, red lipstick running through her lips.
Caleb is beautiful; his eyes are the deepest blue (were), his cheekbones are sharp as a frosty morning and his lips have always been the most kissable any of us girls have ever seen. He has been in our class a couple of years but nobody really knows him; he keeps himself to himself and mainly watches the rest of us interact, like some kind of observer to the world, not a player.
He's made us all into his game.
I spy his hand moving out of the corner of my eye and stiffen, preparing myself for the end. I close my eyes and think of my mum until his hand rests itself in my hair. Peeking one eye, I can see he is playing with my hair; twirling it through his fingers and twisting it round. His lips are smiling now, coming closer as he plants a kiss on my forehead.
Caleb walks around as if he has been here years, like he belongs. He doesn't need to see, he knows exactly where he has put all the tables like he has a photo in his mind. Holding my hand, he leads me out of the viewing room and leans me against the fixed tables where the scales for post mortems and implements should be kept, he must have cleared them away. As he walks to the other end to pick up the drink he must have made himself, I spy a pointy pen a couple of feet away along the table; sidling over to it, I reach and put it in my pocket.
Caleb spins round; "Naughty naughty Albany, give me that please. Can't have any weapons here" He smiles again as he grasps the pen and throws it to the other end of the room.
Walking back towards me now, I can see that there is not a mark on him; apart from his eyes there is nothing different about this boy from the start of the trip. He rests his hands on my shoulders and brings his lips to mine.
Every muscle in my body is screaming at me to stay away, but a tiny part of me is squeaking "You're being kissed by Caleb! Wait until the rest of the girls hear about this!"
But they'll never hear about it; I have to make it out of here alive. But why hasn't he killed me yet? Why is he here, kissing me instead of killing me? I struggle to understand his motivation but whilst he is kissing me, I'm alive. If I keep along with this, he'll be far more inclined to keep me alive as someone to kiss, rather than the girl who pushed him away.
Resolved to my plan I reach my arms around his head and give him all I've got; it's not like I have a lifetime of experience but I seem to be doing something right as when he pulls away he is smiling again. I can taste blood in my mouth and see it on his lips; Megans blood.
It takes everything I have to not retch right there.
We stay in that room for what feels like forever, but it could just be minutes. He talks to me, tells me about his family and his life; "My parents were killed when I was eight, so I was moved here to be placed with foster parents and never left. I was an only child so there were no siblings to place or anything. I guess I just fit in here, the people that adopted me were good, but the man was strict. They've been good to me, but I never really feel like I belong. I never really engage with people; to be honest, the only time I have really felt okay is when I look at you.
I don't know why I did this, I guess I just got bored. I've been in enough hospitals to know what one looks like and the tour guides were getting on my nerves. Before I knew it I was luring our classmates away and just, having fun."
I didn't speak, I didn't know what to say. What are you supposed to say to a statement like that? "Oh, that's a shame"? Or, "Well, if you were bored then you had every right to murder your classmates in cold blood. Sure why not, they're only people. They don't have lives or meaning or friends!"
We're sat on a sofa now, facing the door which has been left open. Caleb is holding my hand, every so often he leans over and kisses my hair, as if the situation is completely normal, and we're just two lovers having a cuddle. He tilts my chin and kisses me again, it's a 'perfect kiss'; slow and wonderful, he holds my face and I can feel him smiling as we connect through our lips.
Except he's a murderer.
Curled up at the end of the sofa now, Caleb is sat on the end and I am drawing shapes on his leg with my finger; we're quiet, the only noise is our breathing and the occasional sigh of contentment from Caleb. I'm looking idly out of the open door when I see the muzzle of a gun about to cross the doorway. The muzzle gets longer and suddenly there is a yellow dress following it, with my best friend Tracy inside. She spots me, does a double take as she watches Caleb kiss my hair and then a triple take as I pull the most scared face I can manage without alerting him. I raise my free hand and motion to the dead bodies, the covers still pulled off some of the faces. She puts two and two together and motions at Caleb with her gun (where did she get that from?!) I put my thumb up and plead her silently to help me. She comes closer but steps on the pen Caleb threw earlier and it crunches.
Suddenly he is alert, no more idleness as he puts his hand out towards the sound, frantic now, I push against him with everything I've got and watch the surprise form on his face as he grasps my throat on his way down. Tracy is shouting "LET HER GO" but the last thing I see is his wide smile and crazy eyes.

Description
Blood is pounding through my ears; I can feel it flushing to my face and draining from my legs as I push them further and further. I have to run away. I have to make it.
My shoes are squeaking on the disinfected floor; the smell hits me with every breath I take and I push on further and further. Mist fills my eyes as I reach a split road at the end of the corridor, forking left I break for stairs.
It's crazy that just this morning we were on a field trip to one of the largest hospitals in the north; it was a trek but the biology class were pretty much all aspiring doctors so it was the trip of the year for us. Then slowly, we started to lose people; one in the children's ward, one in the x ray room, one in the operating theatre. As we continued the tour our group got smaller. When the missing people started turning up as corpses the hospital was evacuated but our group got split. I have no idea who is in here and who isn't but I saw someone try to leave before; they were struck down before getting within ten feet of the door.
Someone in our group is after us.
I'm so panicked I can't think, I can barely breathe and it's getting worse the more I run but I just can't stop. My friends are here somewhere, they would never attack us. I need to find them.
I hear a clanging noise to the left of me, in one of the rooms I've passed. What if it's them? The killer? I turn and make a frantic right. The rooms are getting more spread out, but I don't know if it is because they are getting bigger or if this is just a quieter part of the hospital. The number of beds and equipment hanging around outside the rooms diminishes as I see signs pointing to the chapel, but I fork off and head towards the morgue; surely nobody would go there?

Its cold in here, after a frantic check of the room I am now crouched under one of the rolling tables that they put the cadavers on; every breath moves it slightly but I'm alone so I suppose it doesn't matter; you'd really have to be looking for the movement anyway. That's my theory.
Time passes but I cant measure it; for all I know it could be ten minutes since I hid here but the point is my legs are dead, if I don't move soon I wont be able to run away if I need to; cautiously, my legs spread out from under the table and I utter a silent moan of relief; the blood is so warm its painful.
The room is thin but long; there are tables full of corpses arranged in symmetrical rows, sheets pulled over their faces with just their toes sticking out. Hooped around each big toe is a piece of string with a tag attached displaying their name, age and date of death. It's so quiet in here I'm holding my breath as to not make a sound; this is the only place in the hospital where death is expected and I'm here to avoid it. Trespassing on illegal territory.
The table to the left of me has a sheet that has fallen back over the foot of the ex-person, and I can see a small tattoo that starts on the toe and curls over the side of the foot; I recognise this tattoo. This intricate set of lines was designed for Melissa by her sister and paid for by her mother. I peel back the sheet from the face and instantly recognise her. Spinning on my heels, I whip back the sheet of the adjacent table to find Nathaniel, the class clown.

They're all here. All the missing students are here.
They've been here.
I crouch low again, pacing the length of the room to the window to the corridor, peeking out I see another room. Following the wall along reveals an archway into the viewing room; where the relatives can view the dolled up deader. It'd be safer in there, far away from the prying eyes through the windows in this room. The viewing room is for private goodbyes, it has no windows.
As I crawl into the room and raise up onto my knees by the cadaver table, my eyes come level with the bloody, white and wide eyes of Caleb. His normally longish but neat hair is wild, resembling an afro around him as he tilts his head, as his mouth widens into a smile.
"Albany, is that you?"
My whimper of fear gives me away as he stands up and leaps off the table, never once taking that insane grin off his face.
"It IS you! I've been looking for you." He tuts and flicks his hair back from his eyes "Well, I was until that bitch Natalie got my eyes, now I'm listening for you...

And here you are!"
"Wh... Why are you doing this Caleb?"
"My dear, why not? Don't worry though, I'd never hurt you. My little princess"
"I don't und... understand"
"You don't need to; I am here and you are here. Let me just finish up here a moment..." He turns round and picks up the scalpel he was wielding, making a clean cut across the throat of Megan, who always had a crush on him despite the fact he was a complete loner in the class. As he curves the blade round it looks like she is smiling her last smile, red lipstick running through her lips.
Caleb is beautiful; his eyes are the deepest blue (were), his cheekbones are sharp as a frosty morning and his lips have always been the most kissable any of us girls have ever seen. He has been in our class a couple of years but nobody really knows him; he keeps himself to himself and mainly watches the rest of us interact, like some kind of observer to the world, not a player.
He's made us all into his game.
I spy his hand moving out of the corner of my eye and stiffen, preparing myself for the end. I close my eyes and think of my mum until his hand rests itself in my hair. Peeking one eye, I can see he is playing with my hair; twirling it through his fingers and twisting it round. His lips are smiling now, coming closer as he plants a kiss on my forehead.
Caleb walks around as if he has been here years, like he belongs. He doesn't need to see, he knows exactly where he has put all the tables like he has a photo in his mind. Holding my hand, he leads me out of the viewing room and leans me against the fixed tables where the scales for post mortems and implements should be kept, he must have cleared them away. As he walks to the other end to pick up the drink he must have made himself, I spy a pointy pen a couple of feet away along the table; sidling over to it, I reach and put it in my pocket.
Caleb spins round; "Naughty naughty Albany, give me that please. Can't have any weapons here" He smiles again as he grasps the pen and throws it to the other end of the room.
Walking back towards me now, I can see that there is not a mark on him; apart from his eyes there is nothing different about this boy from the start of the trip. He rests his hands on my shoulders and brings his lips to mine.
Every muscle in my body is screaming at me to stay away, but a tiny part of me is squeaking "You're being kissed by Caleb! Wait until the rest of the girls hear about this!"
But they'll never hear about it; I have to make it out of here alive. But why hasn't he killed me yet? Why is he here, kissing me instead of killing me? I struggle to understand his motivation but whilst he is kissing me, I'm alive. If I keep along with this, he'll be far more inclined to keep me alive as someone to kiss, rather than the girl who pushed him away.
Resolved to my plan I reach my arms around his head and give him all I've got; it's not like I have a lifetime of experience but I seem to be doing something right as when he pulls away he is smiling again. I can taste blood in my mouth and see it on his lips; Megans blood.
It takes everything I have to not retch right there.
We stay in that room for what feels like forever, but it could just be minutes. He talks to me, tells me about his family and his life; "My parents were killed when I was eight, so I was moved here to be placed with foster parents and never left. I was an only child so there were no siblings to place or anything. I guess I just fit in here, the people that adopted me were good, but the man was strict. They've been good to me, but I never really feel like I belong. I never really engage with people; to be honest, the only time I have really felt okay is when I look at you.
I don't know why I did this, I guess I just got bored. I've been in enough hospitals to know what one looks like and the tour guides were getting on my nerves. Before I knew it I was luring our classmates away and just, having fun."
I didn't speak, I didn't know what to say. What are you supposed to say to a statement like that? "Oh, that's a shame"? Or, "Well, if you were bored then you had every right to murder your classmates in cold blood. Sure why not, they're only people. They don't have lives or meaning or friends!"
We're sat on a sofa now, facing the door which has been left open. Caleb is holding my hand, every so often he leans over and kisses my hair, as if the situation is completely normal, and we're just two lovers having a cuddle. He tilts my chin and kisses me again, it's a 'perfect kiss'; slow and wonderful, he holds my face and I can feel him smiling as we connect through our lips.
Except he's a murderer.
Curled up at the end of the sofa now, Caleb is sat on the end and I am drawing shapes on his leg with my finger; we're quiet, the only noise is our breathing and the occasional sigh of contentment from Caleb. I'm looking idly out of the open door when I see the muzzle of a gun about to cross the doorway. The muzzle gets longer and suddenly there is a yellow dress following it, with my best friend Tracy inside. She spots me, does a double take as she watches Caleb kiss my hair and then a triple take as I pull the most scared face I can manage without alerting him. I raise my free hand and motion to the dead bodies, the covers still pulled off some of the faces. She puts two and two together and motions at Caleb with her gun (where did she get that from?!) I put my thumb up and plead her silently to help me. She comes closer but steps on the pen Caleb threw earlier and it crunches.
Suddenly he is alert, no more idleness as he puts his hand out towards the sound, frantic now, I push against him with everything I've got and watch the surprise form on his face as he grasps my throat on his way down. Tracy is shouting "LET HER GO" but the last thing I see is his wide smile and crazy eyes.