Chapter 4: The Patient Scheduled to Die
The paper slipped from my hands.
It landed on the floor.
Nobody picked it up.
Nobody wanted to touch it.
Because the words were still burned into our minds.
TRANSFER TO: MORGUE
TIME: 4:00 A.M. TOMORROW
My death had been scheduled.
Not predicted.
Not written as a warning.
Scheduled.
Like my life was just another appointment on a hospital calendar.
Daniel Carter stared at the document with a look I had never seen on a person before.
Not fear.
Not shock.
Regret.
Deep, unbearable regret.
“You were never supposed to see this.”
His voice was barely audible.
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
My anger finally broke through the fear.
“What does that mean?”
The entire room shook with my voice.
“You knew something would happen to me?”
Daniel looked away.
That was all the answer I needed.
Mark stepped between us.
“Start explaining. Now.”
The administrator remained silent.
Mark grabbed the document from the floor.
“Your hospital system just created a death transfer for someone who is standing right here.”
He held it up.
“And you’re acting like this is normal.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“It isn’t normal.”
“Then explain.”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
Toward Room 214.
“Thirty years ago, this room was closed.”
Mark frowned.
“Closed?”
“Yes.”
“Why is it still operating?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Because someone reopened it.”
“When?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
I noticed something.
A small detail.
Something that suddenly felt important.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked at me.
I pointed toward the computer.
“The file.”
Mark looked back.
“What about it?”
“The patient record.”
I stepped closer.
“My name appeared as admitted.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Yes.”
“But who created it?”
Nobody spoke.
Because that was the real question.
A hospital system didn’t randomly create patient files.
Someone had access.
Someone had entered my information.
Someone had planned this.
Mark immediately moved to the computer.
He checked the activity log.
“Someone logged into the system.”
“When?”
His fingers moved quickly.
Then he froze.
“Four hours ago.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because the account used…”
He stopped.
Mark turned the screen around.
The username appeared.
T.REED
Nobody breathed.
Thomas Reed.
The dead doctor.
The man who had walked through the hospital after death.
The man whose account had accessed the system hours ago.
Mark whispered:
“Someone is using his account.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
Daniel looked terrified.
“Thomas Reed’s account was deleted thirty years ago.”
A cold silence filled the room.
I looked at the computer.
The cursor moved.
Nobody touched the keyboard.
A new message appeared.
One sentence.
Black letters on a white screen.
HE IS NOT THE ONE WHO CAME BACK.
Then another line appeared.
HE IS THE ONE WHO WAS SENT BACK.
The lights flickered.
I stepped away.
“What does that mean?”
Nobody answered.
Then every monitor in the room displayed the same image.
The CCTV footage.
The hallway.
The moment Thomas Reed appeared.
But this time…
The footage was different.
Mark stared at the screen.
“That wasn’t recorded.”
“What?”
He pointed.
“When we reviewed the footage before, Thomas was walking alone.”
The video continued.
The old man appeared at the end of the hallway.
But now there was something else.
Someone behind him.
A second figure.
A person standing in the darkness.
Watching.
I leaned closer.
The figure slowly stepped forward.
My heart stopped.
Because it was wearing a hospital gown.
The same type Thomas Reed wore.
The figure was following him.
“Who is that?”
Daniel whispered:
“No…”
The screen zoomed in.
The image became clearer.
The person behind Thomas Reed was younger.
Much younger.
A woman.
With long dark hair.
A hospital bracelet around her wrist.
Mark looked at Daniel.
“Elizabeth?”
Daniel couldn’t speak.
The woman in the footage was walking behind Thomas.
But the timestamp on the video showed something impossible.
3:59 A.M.
One minute before Thomas Reed appeared.
One minute before I saw him.
One minute before he died.
The footage continued.
Thomas stopped.
He turned around.
He looked directly at the woman.
Then he said something.
The audio was unclear.
Mark increased the volume.
Static filled the room.
Then a voice came through.
Thomas Reed.
“You promised she would be the last one.”
The woman answered.
A voice none of us expected.
A voice that sounded young.
Alive.
“Someone has to pay for what happened.”
Thomas shook his head.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing.”
The woman stepped closer.
“I understand perfectly.”
The footage froze.
The screen went black.
Everyone stared.
Then the computer restarted itself.
A new file appeared.
A video folder.
Created thirty years ago.
The folder name was:
PROJECT 214
Mark opened it.
Inside were hundreds of recordings.
Patient interviews.
Medical reports.
Security footage.
All hidden.
All connected to Room 214.
Daniel backed away.
“No.”
Mark clicked the first video.
The screen showed an old recording.
A younger Daniel Carter.
A younger Thomas Reed.
And a little girl lying on a hospital bed.
Elizabeth.
The quality was terrible.
But the audio was clear.
A doctor’s voice said:
“Subject Elizabeth Carter will begin phase three testing tonight.”
Daniel’s younger voice responded:
“She’s my daughter.”
Thomas Reed answered:
“That is why she is perfect.”
I felt sick.
The video continued.
Young Daniel looked angry.
“This was supposed to save her.”
Thomas Reed looked at the camera.
“It will.”
“How?”
Thomas smiled.
“Because death is only a temporary condition.”
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Mark slowly closed the file.
Daniel looked broken.
“They lied to me.”
I turned toward him.
“What do you mean?”
He looked at the screen.
“I thought they were trying to save my daughter.”
His voice cracked.
“But Project 214 was never about saving people.”
“What was it about?”
Daniel looked at me.
His answer made my blood freeze.
“It was about bringing them back.”
The room became silent.
Then the door behind us slammed shut.
Everyone turned.
Room 214’s door had locked itself.
The handle moved.
Someone was trying to open it from the outside.
Mark ran to the door.
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
Then a voice whispered through the door.
A woman’s voice.
Young.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Daniel.”
The administrator froze.
Because he recognized it.
“Elizabeth…”
The voice continued.
“Why did you let them bury me?”
Daniel stepped toward the door.
Tears filled his eyes.
“I didn’t know.”
The voice became colder.
“You knew.”
The lights flickered.
Then the voice whispered:
“You just chose to forget.”
The door slowly unlocked.
Everyone stepped back.
The handle turned.
The door opened.
But nobody was standing outside.
Only a hospital bed.
Sitting in the hallway.
On top of it was a patient file.
Mark picked it up.
His face changed.
“What?”
I walked closer.
The file was old.
Very old.
The name on it was:
ELIZABETH CARTER
But below the name was a new update.
A recent update.
STATUS: DISCHARGED
DISCHARGE DATE: TODAY
Daniel stared at the paper.
“No…”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He whispered the words that made everyone’s blood run cold.
“Elizabeth didn’t disappear thirty years ago.”
A pause.
“She was discharged.”
Mark frowned.
“That means someone signed her out.”
Daniel looked toward the dark hallway.
His voice trembled.
“And I know exactly who did it.”
“Who?”
Daniel slowly turned.
His eyes landed on me.
“You.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Daniel pointed at the file.
The signature at the bottom.
The person who authorized Elizabeth Carter’s discharge.
Was my name.
And the signature was dated…
May you like
Tomorrow.
End of Chapter 4
