The abandoned operating room.

A cold, metallic scent hangs heavy. Dried blood stains the linoleum. Surgical tools lie scattered on a steel tray. Syringes, used, glint in the dim light. A single IV bag drips slowly onto the floor.

Then, a sound. Footsteps. Slow, dragging steps.

They echo down the empty hall. Closer. They stop. Right outside the door. Your breath catches.

Who’s out there? Or what?