The Locked Door, An Empty Bed, and an Unknown Terror
1091 Words
The sharp clack of the phone hitting the hardwood floor snapped Prachi out of her deep shock.
The impact had forced the phone onto speaker mode, and Dr. Vansh’s frantic, screaming voice echoed through the apartment. "Prachi! Get security! We can't break the door down! Prachi, are you listening to me?!"
Prachi slowly turned her gaze toward Deva. The terrifying, arrogant smirk had completely vanished from his face. It was replaced by a sudden, creeping panic. He had heard the voice on the phone, too.
"Rishi..." That was the only word that escaped Deva's lips. He spun on his heel, and without uttering another syllable, he sprinted out the door, his heavy footsteps thundering down the hallway.
Prachi stood frozen for a split second, her brain short-circuiting. On one side was her terrified daughter; on the other was Deva’s horrific threat that he knew the child's true identity; and on the third side... the man fighting for his life in the hospital. The man whose heart had supposedly just stopped beating.
I have to go. Operating purely on adrenaline, Prachi snatched her coat, securely locked her daughter’s bedroom door from the outside to keep her safe, and sprinted out of the apartment like a madwoman.
It was 3:30 AM. The city streets were completely deserted, but Prachi’s car tore through the silence like a bullet. Her foot was buried into the accelerator. Blowing past red lights with the tires screeching violently against the asphalt, she slammed the brakes right in the portico of 'Sanjeevani Hospital'.
Leaving the driver’s side door wide open, she bolted inside. The reception area was dead quiet, but chaos had erupted near the elevators leading to the fourth floor. Security guards, nurses, and ward boys were running around in a state of sheer panic.
Prachi didn't wait for the elevator; she sprinted toward the stairwell. By the time she reached the fourth floor, her lungs were burning, gasping for air.
The scene that greeted her in the corridor was straight out of a nightmare.
Standing in front of the massive, electronic glass-and-steel door of the VIP Intensive Care Unit was a drenched Dr. Vansh. Two burly security guards were desperately smashing heavy iron rods against the reinforced door, but the glass refused to give way.
"Vansh!" Prachi screamed, shoving her way through the panicked crowd. "What the hell is going on here? How is the door locked from the inside? Who is in there?!"
Vansh looked at her, his eyes wide with helpless terror. "I don't understand it, Prachi! Everything was perfectly normal fifteen minutes ago. I was on my rounds when I suddenly saw Rishi’s heart rate plummeting on the central monitor. I ran to get in, but the door wouldn't open! Someone hacked into the system and completely sealed it from the inside!"
Prachi frantically pressed her face against the thick glass, trying to peer inside. The room was mostly dark, illuminated only by the eerie blue and red glow of the medical monitors.
And then she saw the most horrifying thing of all.
On the primary monitor, the glowing green line was completely, undeniably flat. A continuous, shrill beeeeeep was piercing through the thick glass—the chilling sound that announced Rishi Malhotra’s heart had stopped beating.
"No... no, this can't be happening!" Prachi frantically began punching her access card against the electronic panel. The red light flashed relentlessly, displaying ACCESS DENIED.
"Move!"
A booming, thunderous voice roared from behind them. Everyone whipped around. Deva, drenched in sweat and panting heavily, was charging down the corridor. Gripped tightly in his massive hands was a heavy, red fire extinguisher.
Without wasting a single second, Deva swung the heavy metal cylinder with every ounce of his brute strength, smashing it directly into the seam where the electronic panel met the reinforced glass.
CRASH!
The glass shattered into thousands of jagged pieces, raining down everywhere. The electronic lock was destroyed. Deva kicked the remaining frame open and charged inside. Prachi and Vansh sprinted in right behind him.
"Get the defibrillator! NOW!" Prachi screamed the second she crossed the threshold, lunging straight toward Rishi's bed.
But the moment she reached the bedside, her feet cemented themselves to the floor. The blood in her veins turned to ice.
Standing right behind her, Dr. Vansh also froze, turning into a living statue. The heavy fire extinguisher slipped from Deva's grip, hitting the floor with a loud thud.
The ICU bed... the very bed where Prachi had laid Rishi Malhotra just hours ago after saving his life... was completely empty.
Fresh drops of blood splattered the stark white sheets. The oxygen mask lay discarded on the floor. The monitor cables had been brutally ripped out, and IV fluid dripped rhythmically from a sliced tube onto the cold tiles.
But Rishi Malhotra was gone.
"This... this is impossible," Prachi stammered, her voice trembling violently, her eyes wide with disbelief. "A man whose chest was sliced open for a massive surgery just hours ago... a man whose heart stopped beating mere minutes ago... how could he just get up and walk away?"
Vansh frantically scanned every inch of the room. "There are no other doors, Prachi! This room was completely sealed from all sides! How the hell could he just vanish into thin air?!"
Deva’s gaze, however, was fixed entirely on the floor. He slowly dropped to his knees near the discarded oxygen mask.
"He didn't vanish." Deva’s voice was so menacingly cold it made Prachi’s skin crawl.
He slowly raised his hand toward Prachi, holding a small, blood-smeared object.
It was a tiny, plastic doll.
The exact same doll that Prachi’s daughter had been clutching in her little hands back at the apartment just an hour ago.
The moment Prachi laid eyes on that doll, the breath hitched in her throat. A horrifying realization exploded in her mind.
"Someone... someone took him from here," Deva ground out, his jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might snap. His eyes were now blazing with a lethal, bloodthirsty hatred. "And whoever they are... they didn't just take Rishi. They left a message for you, Prachi."
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet below freezing. A terrifying, heavy silence swallowed them whole, broken only by the relentless, mocking sound of the flatline monitor:
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep...
- Writer
