The Doctor Keeps Us Here

Sherry's eyes fluttered open, the world around her a haze of dim light and cold metal. Her head throbbed with a sharp, insistent pain, and her mouth was dry, her tongue feeling like sandpaper. As her vision cleared, she realized she was lying on a narrow, metal bed in what appeared to be a small hospital room. The mattress beneath her was thin and lumpy, offering little comfort against the chill that seemed to seep from the very walls.

"Where...?" she whispered, her voice cracking from disuse. She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced her back down. She closed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. Her last clear memory was of the barracks, the distant rumble of artillery fire lulling her into an uneasy sleep. How had she ended up here?

The room was dimly lit by a single, flickering fluorescent light overhead, casting erratic shadows on the cracked and peeling walls. A pungent smell of antiseptic mingled with a sickly, metallic odor that turned her stomach. Sherry forced herself to sit up again, this time moving more slowly to stave off the dizziness. She took in her surroundings, her heart sinking as she noted the state of disarray. Overturned trays, scattered medical equipment, and dark, dried stains splattered across the floor and walls.

"Think, Sherry," she muttered to herself, her voice barely more than a breath. "How did you get here?"

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her boots thudding softly against the cold, linoleum floor. She was still in her uniform, though it was now dirty and torn, as if she had been through a struggle. She instinctively patted her pockets, finding them empty. Her dog tags were still around her neck, a small comfort in this unfamiliar place.

The door to the room was slightly ajar, and Sherry's pulse quickened at the sight. She had to find a way out, to figure out where she was and how to get back to her unit. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly before steadying herself against the bed. Each step was careful, deliberate, as if the ground might give way beneath her.

The corridor beyond the door was long and dimly lit, the sparse light bulbs overhead casting more shadows than illumination. The walls were the same cracked and peeling paint, with the occasional dark stain that Sherry chose not to examine too closely. The air was colder out here, a damp chill that made her shiver despite her military-issue jacket.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing eerily down the corridor. Silence answered her. She took a tentative step forward, then another, her boots echoing loudly in the oppressive quiet. The only sound was the faint hum of the remaining functional lights and her own breathing, quick and shallow.

As she moved deeper into the building, Sherry couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every flicker of the lights seemed to create new, sinister shapes in the corners of her vision. Her skin prickled with a growing sense of unease, and she found herself glancing over her shoulder more than once. The hospital—or whatever it was—felt wrong, as if it had been abandoned for years and yet somehow was still inhabited.

The first sign of life came in the form of a low, mournful moan that echoed through the corridor. Sherry froze, her heart leaping into her throat. The sound was distant, but unmistakable—a human voice in pain. She hesitated, torn between the instinct to help and the fear of what she might find.

"Hello?" she called again, louder this time. The moan came again, closer, a pitiful, desperate sound that sent chills down her spine. Gritting her teeth, Sherry followed the noise, her steps quickening despite her fear.

The source of the sound was a room much like the one she had awoken in, the door slightly ajar. She pushed it open cautiously, her breath catching in her throat at the sight before her. A man lay on a gurney, his body twisted in a way that no living person should be. His uniform was tattered, and his eyes were wide with terror, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

"Oh God," Sherry whispered, stepping into the room. She approached the man slowly, her hands trembling. "Sir, can you hear me?"

The man's head turned slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Sherry leaned closer, straining to hear his whisper.

"Help...me," he croaked, his voice barely audible.

Sherry's heart ached with sympathy and fear. "What happened to you?" she asked, though she wasn't sure he could hear her. "How did you end up here?"

The man's hand twitched, his fingers curling into a fist. "The doctor..." he rasped, his eyes rolling back into his head. "Don't...trust..."

Before he could finish, his body convulsed violently, his back arching off the gurney. Sherry jumped back, her heart racing as she watched the life drain from his eyes. His body went limp, his chest no longer rising and falling.

"No," Sherry breathed, tears stinging her eyes. "No, no, no."

She stumbled out of the room, her mind reeling. The doctor. The man's warning echoed in her ears, sending fresh waves of fear through her. She had to find a way out of this place, before whatever had happened to him happened to her too.

The corridors seemed to twist and turn endlessly, each one more oppressive and claustrophobic than the last. Sherry's steps grew more frantic, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. She passed room after room, each one filled with scenes of horror—empty beds stained with blood, broken medical equipment, and the occasional glimpse of something that made her heart skip a beat.

In her panic, she nearly missed the sign. It was old and faded, barely legible, but the word "EXIT" was clear enough. Relief surged through her, and she quickened her pace, following the arrows that pointed the way to freedom.

The exit led her to a stairwell, the concrete steps descending into darkness. Sherry hesitated at the top, her heart pounding. The air was colder here, a damp chill that made her shiver. She glanced behind her, half-expecting to see someone—or something—following her, but the corridor was empty.

"Come on, Sherry," she muttered to herself, steeling her nerves. "You can do this."

She started down the stairs, each step echoing in the confined space. The walls were damp and covered in mold, the smell almost overpowering. The further she descended, the darker it became, until she was forced to feel her way along the wall, her fingers brushing against the slimy surface.

At the bottom of the stairs, she found herself in another corridor, this one even darker and more foreboding than the last. The exit sign pointed to the left, and Sherry followed it, her footsteps the only sound in the oppressive silence.

As she walked, the sense of being watched grew stronger. She could almost feel eyes on her, tracking her every move. She quickened her pace, her fear driving her forward. She turned a corner and froze, her blood turning to ice.

A figure stood at the end of the corridor, shrouded in shadows. It was tall and thin, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. Sherry's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling with fear.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

The figure didn't respond, didn't move. It just stood there, watching her with those eerie, glowing eyes. Sherry took a step back, her heart pounding. She glanced around, looking for another way out, but the corridor was a dead end.

Desperation clawed at her, and she turned back the way she had come, her feet pounding against the floor as she ran. The darkness seemed to close in around her, the walls narrowing until she felt like she could barely breathe. She reached the stairwell and practically flew up the steps, her lungs burning with the effort.

When she burst back into the main corridor, she didn't stop running. She had to find another way out, and had to escape this nightmare. Her mind raced, trying to piece together a plan, but fear clouded her thoughts.

She rounded a corner and nearly collided with another figure, this one dressed in a tattered nurse's uniform. The woman's eyes were hollow, her skin pale and waxy. Sherry skidded to a halt, her heart in her throat.

"Help me," Sherry gasped, her voice desperate. "I need to get out of here."

The nurse's head tilted to the side, her movements slow and unnatural. "You can't leave," she said, her voice a hollow whisper. "None of us can."

Sherry's pulse quickened. "What do you mean? There has to be a way out."

The nurse shook her head, her eyes darkening. "This place is a trap. It feeds on our fear, our pain. The doctor...he keeps us here."

Sherry's mind raced. "The doctor? Who is he?"

The nurse's expression twisted into one of fear and anger. "He is the one who binds us. His experiments...they are what keep us tethered to this place. You must avoid him at all costs."

A loud crash echoed from the corridor, and the nurse's figure flickered and vanished, like smoke blown away by the wind. Sherry's heart raced as she turned and ran again, the nurse's warning ringing in her ears. She needed to avoid the doctor, but she also needed to find a way out of this nightmare.

The tapping footsteps resumed, growing louder and more insistent with each step she took. Sherry's heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted through the labyrinthine hallways, turning corner after corner in a desperate attempt to find an escape route. Every door she tried was either locked or led to more rooms filled with horrors.

She stumbled into a large, open ward. The room was filled with rows of empty beds, some with curtains drawn around them. The air was thick with the smell of decay, and Sherry gagged, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of an exit, but all she saw were shadows and the remnants of what had once been a functional hospital.

"Uh...please?," she whispered, her voice breaking.

A soft whisper reached her ears, a susurration that sent chills down her spine. She turned slowly, her eyes widening as the curtains around one of the beds rustled. A figure emerged, a young nurse in a stained uniform, her eyes hollow and vacant.

"Wait, hold on...," Sherry pleaded, taking a step forward.

The nurse's head tilted, a slow, unnatural movement. Her lips parted, but the voice that came out was a haunting echo.

"You can't leave. None of us can."

Sherry's heart raced. "You said that already...why...why are you saying this!" Sherry cried.

The nurse shook her head, her form flickering like a disturbed image. "We are trapped in the echoes of our own despair. This place...it feeds on us. Beware the doctor. He is the one who binds us here. His experiments...they keep us tethered."

A loud crash echoed from the corridor, and the nurse's figure dissolved into the shadows. Sherry's pulse pounded in her ears as she turned and ran, the nurse's warning replaying in her mind. The doctor. She had to avoid him at all costs.

The tapping footsteps resumed, closer now, more urgent. Sherry broke into a run, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. She turned corner after corner, each one leading her deeper into the labyrinth. Her skin prickled with the sense of being watched, unseen eyes tracking her every move.

In her frantic flight, she stumbled into another corridor, this one lined with windows that offered a glimpse of the night outside. The moon cast a pale glow, illuminating the abandoned landscape. She could see the outlines of trees and the faint glow of distant fires, but no sign of any living soul.

Come on, Sherry, you can do this.

She continued down the corridor, the tapping footsteps never far behind. Her mind raced, trying to remember the layout of the hospital, to find some clue that would lead her to safety. Every turn she took seemed to lead her deeper into the building, and the sense of being trapped grew with each passing moment.

Finally, she reached a door marked "STAIRS." Her heart leaped with hope, and she pushed it open, finding a narrow, winding staircase that descended into darkness. She hesitated for only a moment before plunging into the inky blackness, her footsteps echoing loudly in the confined space.

As she descended, the air grew colder, and the smell of mold and decay became almost unbearable. The walls were damp, and her fingers brushed against the slimy surface as she felt her way down. The darkness was so complete that she could barely see her hand in front of her face, and each step felt like a leap into the unknown.

At the bottom of the stairs, she found herself in another corridor, this one even darker and more foreboding than the last. The exit sign pointed to the left, and Sherry followed it, her footsteps the only sound in the oppressive silence.

As she walked, the sense of being watched grew stronger. She could almost feel eyes on her, tracking her every move. She quickened her pace, her fear driving her forward. She turned a corner and froze, her blood turning to ice.

A figure stood at the end of the corridor, shrouded in shadows. It was tall and thin, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. Sherry's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling with fear.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

The figure didn't respond, didn't move. It just stood there, watching her with those eerie, glowing eyes. Sherry took a step back, her heart pounding. She glanced around, looking for another way out, but the corridor was a dead end.

Desperation clawed at her, and she turned back the way she had come, her feet pounding against the floor as she ran. The darkness seemed to close in around her, the walls narrowing until she felt like she could barely breathe. She reached the stairwell and practically flew up the steps, her lungs burning with the effort.

When she burst back into the main corridor, she didn't stop running. She had to find another way out, and had to escape this nightmare. Her mind raced, trying to piece together a plan, but fear clouded her thoughts.

She rounded a corner and nearly collided with another figure, this one dressed in a tattered nurse's uniform. The woman's eyes were hollow, her skin pale and waxy. Sherry skidded to a halt, her heart in her throat.

The nurse's head tilted to the side, her movements slow and unnatural. "You can't leave," she said, her voice a hollow whisper. "None of us can."

Sherry's pulse quickened.

"STOP!!!!" Sherry screamed.

The nurse shook her head, her eyes darkening. "This place is a trap. It feeds on our fear, our pain. The doctor...he keeps us here."

Sherry's mind raced.

The nurse's expression twisted into one of fear and anger. "He is the one who binds us. His experiments...they are what keep us tethered to this place. You must avoid him at all costs."

A loud crash echoed from the corridor, and the nurse's figure flickered and vanished, like smoke blown away by the wind. Sherry's heart raced as she turned and ran again, the nurse's warning ringing in her ears. She needed to avoid the doctor, but she also needed to find a way out of this nightmare.

As she ran, the tapping footsteps grew louder, almost deafening. She glanced over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat as she saw a shadowy figure pursuing her. It moved with an unnatural speed, closing the distance between them with terrifying swiftness.

Sherry pushed herself harder, her legs burning with the effort. She turned corner after corner, each one a desperate bid for escape. The hospital seemed to stretch on forever, a never-ending maze designed to trap her. Her panic grew with each passing moment, her mind racing with fear.

Finally, she burst into a large, open room. The walls were lined with shelves of medical supplies, and a single, flickering light cast long shadows across the floor. Sherry's eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of an exit.

In the corner of the room, she spotted a door marked "SUPPLY CLOSET." It wasn't an exit, but it might offer a place to hide. She darted across the room, her heart pounding in her chest, and wrenched the door open. The small closet was packed with boxes and supplies, but there was just enough space for her to squeeze inside.

She pulled the door closed behind her, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The darkness was almost complete, the only light coming from the thin crack beneath the door. She pressed her back against the wall, trying to steady her breathing, and listened.

The tapping footsteps drew closer, then stopped just outside the closet. Sherry's heart felt like it might burst from her chest as she listened to the sound of the door handle turning. She held her breath, praying that whoever—or whatever—was out there wouldn't find her.

The door creaked open, and Sherry bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. A shadowy figure filled the doorway, its glowing eyes scanning the small space. Sherry pressed herself deeper into the darkness, her body trembling with fear.

The figure seemed to hesitate, then stepped back, closing the door. Sherry waited, her heart pounding in her ears, until the sound of the footsteps faded into the distance. She let out a shaky breath, her body sagging with relief.

She couldn't stay here forever. She needed to find a way out, to escape this nightmare once and for all. Gathering her courage, Sherry opened the door and stepped back into the room. The flickering light cast eerie shadows on the walls, but the room was empty.

Taking a deep breath, she moved to the door on the opposite side of the room and pushed it open. The corridor beyond was dark and silent, but Sherry could see a faint light at the end. She started toward it, her steps cautious but determined.

As she walked, the air grew colder, and the smell of decay became more pronounced. The walls seemed to close in around her, the darkness pressing in from all sides. Sherry forced herself to keep moving, her mind focused on the light ahead.

Finally, she reached the end of the corridor. The light was coming from a small window set into a heavy, metal door. Sherry's heart leaped with hope as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room beyond.

The room was small and sparsely furnished, with a single, barred window that let in the faint light of the moon. A wooden table and two chairs sat in the center of the room, and a large, metal cabinet stood against one wall. Sherry's eyes were drawn to the cabinet, and she approached it cautiously.

She pulled the door open, revealing a collection of old, rusted tools and medical instruments. Her stomach turned at the sight, but she pushed her revulsion aside and searched for anything that might help her escape.

In the back of the cabinet, she found a small, dusty key. Sherry's heart pounded with excitement as she took it, hoping it would unlock one of the many doors she had encountered. She turned back to the room, her eyes scanning for any sign of an exit.

Her gaze fell on a small door in the corner, partially hidden by shadows. She crossed the room and tried the handle, but it was locked. Her hands trembled as she inserted the key and turned it, her heart leaping with joy when the lock clicked open.

She pushed the door open and stepped into a narrow, winding passage. The air was damp and cold, and the walls were covered in mold. But the passage led upward, and Sherry's hope grew with each step she took.

The passage twisted and turned, and Sherry's legs burned with the effort of climbing. She forced herself to keep moving, her mind focused on escape. Finally, she reached a small, wooden door. She pushed it open and stepped into the night air.

The cool breeze was a welcome relief, and Sherry took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air. She found herself in a small courtyard, the moonlight casting eerie shadows on the ground. She could see the outline of the hospital building behind her, a dark and foreboding presence.

Sherry's eyes scanned the courtyard, searching for any sign of an exit. She spotted a small gate on the far side and started toward it, her heart pounding with excitement. She reached the gate and pushed it open, stepping into the freedom of the night.

As she walked away from the hospital, the sense of being watched slowly faded. The tapping footsteps were gone, and the night was silent and peaceful. Sherry took a deep breath, her mind reeling with everything she had experienced.

She didn't know where she was or how she had ended up in that nightmare, but she was free. And she would do whatever it took to stay that way.