Crushed Head and Forced Patient

Tap. Tap.

Silence hung over the hospital lobby. Only Na-bi's footsteps echoed through the vacant space, hollow and alone. The backpack strapped across her shoulders dug in with every step, but it was the bare minimum she needed to stay alive.

She gripped an industrial box cutter in both hands, knuckles white. Cold sweat had soaked her palms, and the handle kept threatening to slip. A pair of scissors sat tucked at her waistband, ready to be drawn and driven into whatever came at her.

"Hahh...... hahh......"

White breath bloomed with every exhale. Unlike the warm, sticky, organic air of the convenience store, this hospital wing was as cold as a morgue. Alcohol and formalin stung her nostrils, and beneath them, a metallic reek of blood set every nerve on edge.

Na-bi crouched low and scanned her surroundings. Something was wrong. It was far too quiet. The mannequins that had swarmed this place were nowhere to be seen. Now and then a shadow in a nurse's uniform would flicker past at the far end of a corridor, but they no longer clustered and lined the halls the way they used to.

Did the mouths in the convenience store floor swallow them all?Or...... did something else drive them out?

An ominous feeling crawled down her spine. The mouths in the floor had spoken of Babel. And of the last. Words she couldn't parse kept circling in her head. But there was no time to think. The key. Only the key mattered.

She passed the first-floor reception desk and headed for the examination rooms. That was when it started.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

From around a corridor corner came a dull, heavy sound — something slamming itself into a wall. Rhythmic. Compulsive. Na-bi held her breath, pressed herself flat against the plaster, and eased one eye around the corner.

"......!!!!!!!!!"

Her pupils shook as if the ground had split beneath her. A monster stood there. Not a sleek plastic mannequin — a raw, unfiltered abomination that made those dolls look like children's toys.

It had a human shape, but it was far too ruined to be called human. Half its skull had been crushed and mashed flat, and through the gap a red mass mixed with brain matter bulged and dangled. One eyeball had slipped from its socket and swung against its cheek like a pendulum.

The worst of it was the belly. The torso had been split open from the sternum down to the lower abdomen. The stitches had burst as if someone had given up halfway through sewing it shut, and ashen intestines spilled out in ropes, wrapping around its thighs. A grotesque figure, wearing its own guts like an umbilical cord — or jewelry.

The monster slammed its crushed head against the wall — thud, thud — muttering to itself.

The raving voice of a madman rolled down the corridor. Na-bi clamped a hand over her mouth. Her legs were shaking. Run. Instinct screamed it. But if she ran, what about the key? Was she supposed to crawl back to that wretched convenience store and live under the floor's mouths, never knowing when she'd be swallowed?

No. I can do this.I'm Indomitable. I don't die.That thing's already half dead. Its guts are hanging out.

With trembling hands she thumbed the box cutter's slider and ran the blade out to full length. Shhk. Click. The lock snapping into place sounded like thunder. She swallowed a dry throat, killed her footsteps, and crept up behind it.

Three meters. Two. One. The monster was still ramming its head into the wall, still muttering. Completely unguarded. Now.

"Die...... die!!"

She shouted it like a war cry and brought the knife down. The neck. If she drove the blade through that dangling throat, it would be over. The edge was a heartbeat from the nape of its neck.

A hand closed around her.

"Wh......?"

The world flipped. Her feet left the floor. She realized she was hanging in midair. Without even turning around, the monster had reached back with one hand, seized both of her wrists at once, and lifted her off the ground.

The strength was overwhelming. Like an adult grabbing a child's arm — no, worse than that. The gap was absolute.

The monster turned its head, slowly. The dangling eyeball swung to a stop directly in front of her face. Its crushed lips twisted open.

"You tried to kill me?"

There was no bloodlust in the voice. What lived in it was grievance. Rage. And madness.

The voice climbed higher. The brain matter bulging from its skull trembled.

"You hate me too, huh."

CRACK.

"AAAAAAAGH!!!!!!"

The grip exploded. The sound of her wrist bones pulverizing filled the corridor. Agony ripped the strength from her hands. The box cutter she had been clutching slid free and fell.

SHUNK.

"Ghk—AAAGH?!"

The falling blade punched dead-center into the monster's spilled intestines. The knife buried itself in the middle of a dangling loop of small bowel, and the creature shrieked and leapt as if it had been electrocuted.

"It hurts! It hurts! My belly! My belly!"

It let go of her and clutched at its own abdomen, thrashing.

She hit the floor on her tailbone. Her wrists felt like they were on fire. They had already gone a deep, ugly purple, swollen thick, and they would not obey her. They just shook.

"Ah...... ahh......"

She scrambled backward, drowning in terror. She had made a mistake. A catastrophic misread. That thing was not a level she could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fight. If there had been a hundred of her, a single clench of that hand would have snapped every neck. Human and monster. Predator and prey. An absolute difference.

And she had been the one to touch it first. She had even wounded it.

Warmth spread between her legs. Terror had unlocked her sphincter. Urine soaked through her pants. Run? Impossible. She had just watched it move. The thing's frantic hopping was faster than a human sprint. She understood now why the hospital was empty. The mannequins had fled. Fled from this lunatic.

No — wait. Fled? Something that strong had been running from something? Then what in God's name had been chasing it......

The thought cut off as the hopping monster went suddenly still. A larger dread settled over her.

She dropped flat to the floor at once, pressing her forehead to the freezing tile. She had to beg. She had to say she was sorry, that she wanted to live.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't kill me! Please, I'm begging you!"

She sobbed it out, wailing. Pride was a luxury she could not afford. She wanted to live. The monster's shadow fell across her back.

A heel came down.

"AAAGH!"

It stepped on the back of her hand. Barefoot, it ground its weight into the wrist it had already shattered.

The monster took hold of the box cutter buried in its own belly and yanked it free without hesitation.

Its face twisted. The blade was clean. Not a drop of blood on it. Maybe guts that had already rotted simply had no blood left to give.

"There'snoblood. Ithurts this much and there'snoblood."

It stamped its feet and howled, as if it could not comprehend what it was seeing. The tantrum looked almost childlike — except for the weapon in its hand, and the strength behind it, which were a catastrophe given flesh.

"Get up!"

THUD.

It kicked her in the side.

"Ghk—!"

Her body rolled across the floor like a ball. The impact felt like ribs snapping. Her stomach clenched, and the food she had eaten earlier came surging back up.

"Hhk! Blehh—! Cough......"

She curled around the puddle of vomit she had just painted across the tiles. She could not get up. The monster approached as if her slowness offended it, seized the broken wrist, and hauled her roughly to her feet.

"Ah—! My hand! My hand!"

It ignored the scream. One hand pinned her to the wall. The other brought the box cutter to her lower belly.

"There has to be blood. If it hurts, there has to be blood."

SHUNK.

"AAAAAAAGH——!!!!!"

The blade punched through her abdomen. She felt it with hideous clarity — skin splitting, muscle shearing apart. She twisted and bucked against the wall, writhing on the steel.

The monster twisted the knife and ripped it out.

"You hurt too, right?"

SHUNK.

"Hhk! Guh—! Ahh......"

It stabbed her again. Deeper this time. The same hole, gouged open a second time, and her eyes rolled back. Red blood welled and spilled, pattering onto the floor in fat drops.

The monster gazed at that blood with an expression of rapture.

It grabbed her by the collar and shook her. The convenience-store vest and the T-shirt beneath it were darkening to red. The power of Indomitable tried to close the wounds, but the monster's knife-work was faster than her regeneration. And foreign matter had been packed into the cuts — rust from the blade, the creature's own fluids — already seeding inflammation.

"Stay still."

It herded her into a corner. Then it raised the blood-slick box cutter and aimed it at her clothes.

Riiip. Slice.

"Nnh...... don't......"

The blade parted fabric and passed on. The vest split down the middle and dropped to the floor. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠T-shirt tore away, baring white skin and the bandages underneath. The monster cut those off too, as if they were an inconvenience.

Na-bi trembled, her back glued to the wall. She barely dared to breathe, terrified the edge would find flesh. But the monster did not cut her. With a craftsman's precision it stripped the clothes and nothing else, peeling her the way one peels a fruit.

The buckle of her pants was severed. The pants slid down. In a matter of seconds she was naked, not a thread left on her. Blood from the wound in her belly ran down the pale inner faces of her thighs, painting them in long red streaks.

"Heheh......"

The monster looked at her stripped body and licked what remained of its lips. Its torn mouth stretched all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the way to its ears. It leaned in until its face was a breath from hers.

"Hik......"

She stopped breathing. The dangling eyeball filled her vision. Crushed, extruded brain matter. The stench of rotting intestines and old blood punched up her nose. A crystallization of terror was breathing right in front of her face.

"Please...... please don't kill me......"

She begged, shaking so hard her teeth chattered. Tears ran down her cheeks. The monster watched those tears and grinned. From inside its mouth, a tongue uncoiled — long, hideous, built like a snake's.

It licked her.

"......!"

A wet, hot tongue dragged across her cheek. It lapped up the tears. It lapped up the sweat. Sticky saliva smeared across her face. The monster narrowed its eyes as if savoring the taste of her.

Then its gaze traveled slowly downward. Past the bleeding belly. Down to the place between her legs, trembling in little helpless spasms of fear. Toward her sex.

The murky lust mixed into the monster's voice crawled into her ear and stayed there.