The abomination lurched upright, its bloated mass twisting and splitting with grotesque efficiency. The flesh ripped and peeled apart, forming hideous warped legs. The middle of its bulk convulsed, then tore open, revealing a jagged mockery of a mouth. It let out a high keening wail before charging, closing the distance with thundering strides.

  Adam felt the vibration in his feet with each step it took. Some ancient part of his brain that still thought it was a tiny mammal shrieked at him to run.

  This time, he listened.

  Hector reacted first, pivoting hard and sprinting for the hospital entrance. Adam followed, half a step behind as the monster bore down on them. They split around a parked car, each veering in a different direction.

  A shadow stretched across the ground ahead of Adam. He glanced back and immediately regretted it. The abomination's massive fist came down, smashing into the car between them. The impact cracked like a gunshot while shards of metal, plastic, and glass exploded into the air, pelting Adam in fragments as he ducked away.

  He stumbled, nearly losing his footing as the creature brushed its fist to the side, sending the crushed remains of the car skidding across the parking lot. Tearing up the steps toward a set of double doors, he silently prayed they weren't locked. Ahead, Hector veered left, bolting toward a different entrance further away, leaving Adam on his own.

  He crested the top step, each of the creature's footfalls thudding through his chest like a war drum. He lowered his shoulder and threw himself into the doors. Pain lanced through his arm and into his chest as he broke through, losing his footing and hitting the floor hard. He skidded across the tile, his bat clattering down the hallway out of reach.

  His heart jackhammered into his throat as the doors exploded inward behind him, torn off their frames with a shriek of ripping metal. A massive hand punched through the opening, scraping across the ceiling and sending a rain of tiles crashing down. Adam scrambled backwards, crab-walking as fast as he could while the thing reached for him.

  "FUCK OFF!" he yelled, half shout, half sob as the tips of its rotten, tree trunk sized fingers slid toward his chest. He forced himself to focus, still retreating, raising his hand and shoving energy into it with everything he had.

  His back thumped into the wall, and he saw the hallway ended in a T-intersection. There was nowhere to go. If he tried left or right, the hand would have him. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he pressed himself nearly flat, right hand still extended.

  "Come on!" he roared, sparks flickering at his fingertips in tiny, erratic bursts of blue. More! he screamed in his mind, forcing power down his arm. A low hum filled the air and his palm burned like it was pressed against a red-hot burner. The buzzing grew louder, sharp and angry, like a hornet's nest had taken up residence beneath his skin.

  The monstrous hand slid another foot forward.

  This was it. Now or never.

  "I said, FUCK. OFF!" Adam screamed, releasing the power. An incandescent arc of electricity shot from his palm, punching a fist-sized hole through rotting flesh. Lightning raced up the length of the arm, and it recoiled violently, withdrawing back down the hall.

  Adam fought his way back to his feet, light-headed and swaying. He kept his eyes locked on the hand lurking just down the hall, watching as it slowly flexed its fingers, then curled them into a fist. His eyes widened as the knuckles peeled back, revealing a ragged fissure beneath. A rotting head slithered out of the opening, its lone eye rolling in his direction. The eye burned with a sickly yellow glow, casting the hallway into a puss-colored twilight.

  It locked onto him, then the mouth opened, unleashing another keening wail. The sound stabbed into his skull like a splinter of broken glass, brittle and sharp.

  The arm surged forward, punching toward him.

  Adam dove left, but the massive fist clipped his foot, sending him into a violent spin. His head slammed into the wall, stars exploding across his vision. Dizziness collapsed on him like a hammer as his stomach rebelled, spraying the wall in a spiral of vomit.

  Behind him, the wall crumpled under the creature's blow.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He half-crawled, half-rolled down the hallway, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the giant rotting hand. He collapsed to his side and watched as the eye shrank back into the darkness, but he could feel its gaze lingering, watching.

  The shadow where it hid pulsed with something deeper than malice. It radiated hatred, thick and heavy, as if his very existence was an affront to its being.

  He lay on his back, staring into the near darkness as the world slowly came back into focus. The silence pressed against him until, at last, he heard the hand withdraw with a wet, scraping sound that echoed down the hall.

  "MINE."

  The voice came in the same keening tone as the earlier wail, making the space behind Adam's eyes protest in pain.

  "NO TOUCH."

  Adam blinked into the dark, listening as the scraping faded. He was struck by a sudden, sickening thought. The corpse he had prodded, had it been this thing's property? Was it territorial?

  Worse, he realized he understood it.

  It could speak.

  It could reason.

  And most disturbingly of all, some part of him could almost empathize with it. He wouldn't want someone stealing his food either.

  "I'm... sorry?" he said, his half-hearted apology spilling into the darkness.

  There was no reply.

  He leaned back and let his head rest against the cold floor. The fatigue of the day finally caught up with him all at once, making the hard tiles feel as soft as a feather bed. He desperately wished he had just stayed home.

  Adam stared at the ceiling for several minutes, waiting for his heart rate to settle while tears of stress and relief streamed down his cheeks. His chest ached from the adrenaline crash, and a knot had already formed near his temple where he'd struck the wall. He flexed his arms and legs, checking for anything broken or missing, then wiped his face and attempted to get up.

  The journey from floor to his feet took more effort than he expected. He wobbled as he stood, the room spinning slightly.

  Probably a concussion, he thought.

  Leaning against the wall, he pulled a bottle of water from his pack, drank half of it, and focused on staying upright. Gradually, his balance returned to normal and the world steadied.

  Only then did he notice how dark the hospital interior really was. Not pitch black, but darker than it should have been for the mid-afternoon, the hallway ahead dim enough to hide the massive creature's retreat.

  "Hector?" he hissed into the gloom, glancing down the hallway. The space swallowed the sound, muffling it in a way that felt wrong. After the last week, Adam knew that was a bad sign.

  He moved cautiously down the corridor, his boots softly clicking against the tiles and he winced at the sound. At the T-intersection, he peeked around the corner and saw the shattered doors barely hanging on their bent hinges. Sunlight spilled in just a few feet before the gloom swallowed it whole.

  A coppery tang hit his tongue.

  He'd been biting his cheek hard enough to draw blood.

  Adam spat into the hallway and continued in the direction he thought Hector might have run.

  A few feet further, his bat lay across the doorway of a darkened office. Adam bent to retrieve it and froze as he saw a figure inside. He yelped, dragging the bat with him as he staggered backward.

  Brandishing it like a sword, he held his breath for several seconds and after a minute, curiosity got the better of him. Slowly, he leaned forward into the doorway, keeping the bat raised between himself and whatever might be hiding in the room.

  The figure remained still, only a silhouette visible in the shadows.

  "Hey,” Adam hissed, making the word an accusation and spitting it toward the figure. "I'm getting really tired of this shit." When there was no response, he slid forward into the doorway. He reached into the office and felt along the wall, praying nothing bit his fingers off as he searched for a switch. His hand met a smooth plastic square.

  He pressed it.

  Sterile fluorescent light flooded the office.

  An anatomical torso sat on a wooden desk. Its plastic organs showed through an open cavity, displaying the relative size and placement of everything vital. Adam felt a flash of irrational anger as he stepped further into the room. The model's blank face stared at him, and he tightened his grip on the bat.

  He stood there, staring at it, the anger boiling up inside until his face flushed a deep crimson. He swung the bat, knocking the model violently off of the desk, its pieces scattering across the floor in every direction.

  The plastic heart bounced off the desk's edge and landed near his feet. Adam bent down, snapped up the plastic organ, and pitched it against the wall. It bounced back at him, flying over his shoulder and into the hallway.

  He raised his bat and brought it down on a shelf full of books, buckling the frame and sending them crashing to the floor. Pivoting, he swung through the glass front of office, shattering the tall pane and tangling the bat in the drawn blinds. He yanked it back, ripping the blinds off of their anchors with a growl of frustration. Turning, he brought the bat down on the desk, again and again, splintering the polished wood as he vented his sudden rage. The bat smashed against the desk until his fingers numbed and his breath turned to panting sobs.

  Dropping the bat, his vision blurred and the room spun. Adam stumbled forward, gripping the ruined desk with both hands. He gasped for air, his heart hammering out of control. For a moment, he was sure it was a heart attack, until he remembered The Voice had made everyone perfectly healthy.

  Healthy enough to die horribly.

  "This is... a terrible time... for a panic attack," he panted to no one in particular, trying to humor his way out of the fight-or-flight chaos raging in his chest. Choking on the battery acid taste in his mouth, he bent down and retrieved the bat. With the cold metal back in his grip he found his resolve and stumbled out of the ruins of the office.