You Can Never Leave
By Marie Myers
The sound of hoarse breathing broke my thoughts and washed away the consideration that maybe I had gone insane. Maybe…just maybe that man knew a way out here. Maybe he was as confused as I was. Maybe he was just too sick…to get out of bed.
My legs were shaking as I once again found myself looking down the sides of the hallway. The sound of ragged breathing tickling at my ears. A low moan came from the open door of the room. My own breath became audible as I hauled myself across the hallway ignoring what looked like a shadow moving steadily across the ceiling above. Once inside I was quick to realize that something was off. It was so dark I could only see the form of a large man lying in bed.
“S-s-sir?” There was nothing, not even a groan. The lights flickered for a moment, causing me to spin around and look through the empty doorway. With my back to the man I quickly searched for the light switch that had momentarily been illuminated. My hands groped the wall feebly and the man…he was gurgling behind me. The sound was terrible. Like fluid bubbling up from his lungs accompanied by a high-pitched wheeze. I gulped as I checked the hallway once more before turning toward the bed-ridden man.
I only saw him for a moment, but that was enough to once again cause me to sprint down the hallway. This time I didn’t scream…I couldn’t…adrenaline kicked in and my mind told me run…just run.
He had been lying there, with his limbs contorted…twisted in odd angles around him, he had been bald with sagging skin. It wasn’t just his face either; it had been his whole body hanging around him, flaps of wrinkled skin, all that was left of his shriveled frame. His chest had been completely black, the acrid fumes of rot stuck to the inside of my nostrils burning at the skin, strangling at me. But it wasn’t the rot that had scared me or the ribs that protruded from his rotting chest or the sound of his hoarse breathing, the cold dead eyes that seemed to stare through me, or the web that had surrounded him which I was almost sure had been his insides wrapped around the hospital equipment like tinsel on a Christmas tree. It was what he said.
“You can’t leave.” A voice seemed to come from nowhere in between the wheezing and gurgling.