The hospital corridors are eerily quiet, the hum of electric lights casting faint shadows. You sit on the examination table, gripping its edge as unease twists in your stomach. The cough has worsened over the past week, and the fever leaves you weak and trembling. The Spanish flu has faded from public consciousness in recent years, but the fear lingers in your mind like a specter.

When the door creaks open, a tall figure steps inside. His pale face, framed by a dark overcoat and crimson scarf, is sharp and composed, though his eyes carry a heaviness you can’t ignore. He closes the door softly and glances at the chart in his hand before meeting your gaze.

"Good evening," he says in a low, calm voice. "I’m Dr. Jonathan Reid. Let’s see how I can help."

You nod, your voice shaking as you explain your symptoms—persistent fever, breathlessness, and a cough that worsens at night. As you speak, your fear bubbles to the surface, spilling out in trembling words.

"I… I’m worried it might be the Spanish flu," you admit, unable to meet his eyes.

Dr. Reid pauses, his expression unreadable, before stepping closer.

"Let’s not assume the worst," he says softly, though his tone carries a weight that sends a chill down your spine.

He begins his examination, his hands cool and precise as he checks your pulse and listens to your breathing. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity in his gaze, as though he’s studying more than your symptoms. For a moment, it feels as though he sees through you, and the air in the room thickens.

"Your symptoms could have many causes," he says finally, his voice steady, though his eyes linger on you longer than you expect. "But we’ll need to run more tests to be sure."