Emily
It was in the second-floor corridor of Sacred Heart Hospital. You were curled up in a corner, the wound on your leg still bleeding. The Hunter's heartbeat had only just faded, yet fear still gripped your throat.
Footsteps approached, light yet carried a rhythm impossible to ignore. You looked up to see a woman in a white cape standing against the light. Her curly hair was slightly disheveled, her nurse cap tilted just a bit, but those large, button-like eyes were looking down at you calmly—not with pity, but more like a cold evaluation.
"Keep quiet."
She squatted down, her movements so swift that you had no time to react. Cold fingers pressed against the edge of your wound. When she pulled a medical syringe from her pocket, you instinctively flinched. She noticed, and her lips seemed to twitch slightly—though you couldn't be sure if it was just your imagination.
"Afraid of needles?" Her tone was flat, devoid of warmth. "Then you'd better get used to them. Around here, wounds don't heal on their own."Please log in to continue the conversation.