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Winks of Hysteria I
>Monday - 11:30 pm: Chairman Hospital, Third floor - hallway 3 (Security room) <
Tonight was a another ordinary evening like no other.
Your routine was always the same.
Check in, observe the security cameras that are spread throughout the building (including your own).
Then check out with an empty report.
But something changed tonight.
For some odd reason, the bottom palm of your hands became coaxed in sweat as the tips of your fingers began to twitch.
It felt as if you were being watched; observed, stalked.
The feeling itself made the hairs on your neck stand. Making the heat on the back of your neck grow and cause your feet to shift in place under the desk out of a lingering anxiety.
But you ignored it the action, with a small thought of ' you're just being paranoid' and continued on with your shift.
The camera view from the first floor in hallway six portrayed nothing but the closed numbered doors of patients, and the empty lit end of the hall that led to the emergency exit.
Your eyes lingered at a small uneven shadow creeping near the edge of the camera's right side view.
You felt your heart quiver as you clicked a button to see the video in first person.
Your eyes trail down to where the shadow was standing as you peer closer to see a better outline.
It was a man.
You felt a quaking shiver run down your spine while cold sweat begins pile on your forehead.
There we're no nurses on duty at this time of night. And every patients door was either locked or heavily guarded. The receptionist had already gone home.
And the only security guards that were even on duty, was yourself and two other men on the last floor.
So who was this man?. A thief looking to steal supplies?, Or was he a patient that had broken out?
No, neither could be possible.
Because every door - even the patient's doors - in this building either has sensors or have locks that can only be open by an employee's or higher up's I.D card.
But that still didn't answer the question.
Who was this psycho and how did he get in?
You continued to stare at the darkened blob as it stayed unmoved in the camera's view. But the longer you stared into the static like screen, the more dread you felt filling in the pit of your stomach.
You then shake your head, as if trying to shake out your fearful thoughts and inched your hand to your untouched walkie-talkie.
Leaning the machine in closer to your mouth, you then press your forefinger finger to a small button and begin to speak.
"This is 'Obsidian' speaking,does anyone read?, over"
There was silence for minute, before a raspy voice wailed from the machine.
"This is 'Urkel' speaking." , said the raspy voice.
"Is there a problem?, over".
You release the button for a moment to look out of the corner of your eyes back to the camera.
And the second you made eye contact with the screen, your body went ridged.
The man was gone.
Fuck.
Your eyes begin to widen as your hands start to shake with fear piercing your heart.
You quickly stand from your chair - knocking it over in the process- as you clumsily fumble with the tiny machine before roughly pressing the button.
Your voice filled with panic, "Urkel, this is a code: YELLOW, do you read me?. I repeat, code: YELLOW!".
© Inkpens
Tonight was a another ordinary evening like no other.
Your routine was always the same.
Check in, observe the security cameras that are spread throughout the building (including your own).
Then check out with an empty report.
But something changed tonight.
For some odd reason, the bottom palm of your hands became coaxed in sweat as the tips of your fingers began to twitch.
It felt as if you were being watched; observed, stalked.
The feeling itself made the hairs on your neck stand. Making the heat on the back of your neck grow and cause your feet to shift in place under the desk out of a lingering anxiety.
But you ignored it the action, with a small thought of ' you're just being paranoid' and continued on with your shift.
The camera view from the first floor in hallway six portrayed nothing but the closed numbered doors of patients, and the empty lit end of the hall that led to the emergency exit.
Your eyes lingered at a small uneven shadow creeping near the edge of the camera's right side view.
You felt your heart quiver as you clicked a button to see the video in first person.
Your eyes trail down to where the shadow was standing as you peer closer to see a better outline.
It was a man.
You felt a quaking shiver run down your spine while cold sweat begins pile on your forehead.
There we're no nurses on duty at this time of night. And every patients door was either locked or heavily guarded. The receptionist had already gone home.
And the only security guards that were even on duty, was yourself and two other men on the last floor.
So who was this man?. A thief looking to steal supplies?, Or was he a patient that had broken out?
No, neither could be possible.
Because every door - even the patient's doors - in this building either has sensors or have locks that can only be open by an employee's or higher up's I.D card.
But that still didn't answer the question.
Who was this psycho and how did he get in?
You continued to stare at the darkened blob as it stayed unmoved in the camera's view. But the longer you stared into the static like screen, the more dread you felt filling in the pit of your stomach.
You then shake your head, as if trying to shake out your fearful thoughts and inched your hand to your untouched walkie-talkie.
Leaning the machine in closer to your mouth, you then press your forefinger finger to a small button and begin to speak.
"This is 'Obsidian' speaking,does anyone read?, over"
There was silence for minute, before a raspy voice wailed from the machine.
"This is 'Urkel' speaking." , said the raspy voice.
"Is there a problem?, over".
You release the button for a moment to look out of the corner of your eyes back to the camera.
And the second you made eye contact with the screen, your body went ridged.
The man was gone.
Fuck.
Your eyes begin to widen as your hands start to shake with fear piercing your heart.
You quickly stand from your chair - knocking it over in the process- as you clumsily fumble with the tiny machine before roughly pressing the button.
Your voice filled with panic, "Urkel, this is a code: YELLOW, do you read me?. I repeat, code: YELLOW!".
© Inkpens
