We’re Trapped In An Abandoned Hospital (Part 1: For Some Extra Cash)

“Relax,” Drake told me.
“Relax?” I snapped back. “How can I relax when we’ve found him with half his face chewed off?”

To give some context, me and my roommate/ friend were hard up for cash. Bills and rent were due so when we saw flyers advertising a scavenger hunt with a cash prize, we jumped on it like white on rice. Aside from us, there were somewhere between twenty and forty other people. We each divided into groups of five, agreeing to divide the money amongst ourselves. Even split five ways, we’d each still be getting a good chunk of change.

Along with Drake and I, there’s also a couple whose names are Lola and Miller. Plus, there was a guy named Robert who went by Bob. Not to sound harsh but he was the dead weight of our group. No pun intended. While we would do the searching, he would step away to take a drink.

Now we were busy searching the area, an abandoned hospital and we’d found him dead in one of the surgery rooms.

“This is all kinds of fucked,” I said. “Some addicts probably did this. Fucking bath salts.”
“I don’t think so. Look at him again.”
“I really don’t want to.”
“Just do it.”

I forced my gaze upon Bob’s lifeless corpse once again.

“Okay, so aside from making me feel like throwing up, what am I supposed to be seeing here?”
“Those aren’t human teeth marks.”
“What?”

I took a closer look, scrunching up my nose at the smell. Drake was right. Neither of us were experts. However, it was clear those bite marks could not have come from any normal person. That of course raised the disturbing question of what exactly was doing this then?

“I don’t know what did this to him and I don’t care,” I said. “All I know is that we should warn the others and then get the fuck out of here.”

Just then we heard a low croaking sound.

“The hell is that?”
“Beats me. Maybe it’s the floor?”

Glancing around showed us no answer to the question. Then our eyes fell back on Bob. Instantly, I felt my stomach knot up.

“It’s probably just some gas escaping him,” Drake said, trying to sound reassuring.

This was immediately disproven when Bob sat up.

“You were saying?” I said, slowly backing away.

He let out a deafening wail, lunging at us. We tried jumping out of the way but he caught Drake by his shirt, pulling him down.

“Do something,” he yelled, trying desperately to keep Bob from biting him.

I’ve always wondered in some kind of zombie apocalypse if my response would be fight, flight, or freeze. I’m proud to say it was the former. There were some old medical tools in the room. One of which was a scalpel. I grabbed it and ran to Bob, stabbing him in the temple. It would seem that he could still feel pain because he screamed when I did it and turned his focus on me.

He chased me around the surgery table for a minute or so until Drake clonked him in the back of the head. He did this with the leg of an old kart that he managed to break off. He kept beating Bob until he stopped moving. He yelled and cursed while doing this and I saw this almost deranged look in his eyes.

“Drake,” I said in a low voice as I was approaching him.
“Back the fuck off,” he threatened, spinning around and pointing his weapon at me.
“Wow. Dude, chill. It’s me.”

I raised my hands to show I wasn’t a threat to him.
“Huh? Oh, my bad. Sorry, I got a little carried away.”

Bob’s blood pooling on the floor told me that a little was an understatement but we had more important things to worry about. Namely, Lola walking into the room and finding us covered in blood with a dead body on the floor. The fact Drake was still holding the now caked with gore kart leg didn’t help to disprove her notion. Her eyes grew wide when she saw us. She ran and we chased after her.

Miller was right outside the room as well and freaked out when he saw us chasing her. They tried to get away but ended up tripping over some discarded rope and we jumped on them, pinning them down. Then we tied them up, gagging their mouths with some shirts, dragging them into a nearby room.

“Okay,” I told them, letting out a deep breath. “If we let you talk, do you promise not to yell or scream?”

They nodded and Drake pulled the shirts from their mouths. Upon doing so, they began screaming at the top of their lungs for help so their mouths were re-gagged.

“Any ideas?” Drake asked.
“I’m trying to think,” I replied, pacing back and forth. “Fuck, this is bad. Maybe we should just call the police.”
“Hell no. If these two think we killed Bob, so will the cops.”
“Shit, you’re right. Sorry, my brain is like scrambling right now.”

We turned back to Lola and Miller to see that they looked confused, presumably at our claim.

“You two still don’t believe us?” I said to them.
They gave us a stare as if to say “Obviously not.”
“Well, then why haven’t we killed you already? We’ve had plenty of time to do it.”

They seemed to consider it

“Look, could you at least hear us out?”

They nodded again and for the second time were ungagged. I proceeded to explain what really happened.

“You can even look at his body,” Drake added. “You’ll see he was already dead before we found him or at least he should’ve been. That means whoever or whatever did it might still be here so we need to stick together. Otherwise, we could end up like Bob.”

Although reluctant, they complied with us. We united them and then the four of us headed back to the other room. There we saw Bob’s body was no longer there and we lost our collective shit. That brings us to now. We’ve decided to call the cops, after all, seeing as how if Bob is still alive we can say our previous actions were self-defense.

Plus, Lola and Miller agreed to vouch for us. We’ve locked ourselves in this room and we’re waiting for the police to arrive. I feel bad for the poor bastards who run into Bob. I’m typing this on my phone so, I’ll update when I can.