It was then that things started to get weird.
He was in the middle of his final operating room for the night. He’d already sterilized the walls and equipment that was within his reach; all that was left was the floor. He walked out of the operating room and into the clean room when he thought he saw the far door clicking closed. Before it did, he heard the soft whisper of laughter leaking through the dwindling crack. He felt the hair prickling on the back of his neck, arms, and legs despite being weighed down by the heavy jumpsuit he was wearing. He turned to look behind him, suddenly sure that something was standing there, ready to slip some cold, dead hands around his neck and choke the life from him, and heard the shuffling against his ears. I’m just hearing things because of the hood.
