Many people always find hospitals to be particularly gloomy at night. In addition to the impact of countless tales of horror about hospitals in human history, the colors that bring calm and relaxation during the day inevitably seem chillingly cold at night.
Most hospitals adopt colors like white, blue, and gray, which are meant to be non-stimulating to patients' vision. But under the enhancement of darkness and the cold lighting, it unavoidably reminds people of death, which in reality occurs less often than recovery.
Batman walks down such a cold corridor, with every recessed door resembling a mouth ready to devour. Batman wouldn't necessarily make this association, but he couldn't help speculating about events occurring in each ward.
At the first room to the left, the doormat is askew, a corner still folded from an earlier scuffle. The scrapes on the floor suggest a fight that took place during the day, likely involving a sick patient and two nurses.
The door frame of the third room on the right has been bumped, possibly by someone not watching where they were going while carrying an IV pole. So, perhaps a patient here suffering not only from a mental illness but also from a chronic disease that requires regular infusions.
As Batman slowly walks on, countless pieces of information are collected and sorted inside his brain, gradually reproducing the diverse day-to-day realities of this corridor.
With patients coming and going, medical personnel weaving in and out, Batman sidesteps medical staff wrestling with a patient, avoids some vomit just dropped at his feet, and brushes past a patient carrying an IV pole, when he hears a distinct ring.
"Cling!"
Batman swiftly turns back, all imagination vanishes, but the sharp resounding echo remains. At the end of the corridor, a shadow flickers past.
"Click click click click click," the lights along the long corridor go out in rapid succession as if something is approaching. Batman turns and blocks.
A gust of cold wind blows up his clothes. As he lowers his cloak from in front of his face, Batman only sees darkness.
Another sharp ring. Batman can't help but turn back to the corridor he just walked from. The sound is indeed coming from the end of that corridor, but now there's nothing there.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps are heard. Batman frowns and swiftly walks toward the stairway.
Just as he steps across the threshold of the staircase, a shadow bumps into him. It's Natasha.
This was no romantic collision, Natasha had fallen down four steps, tumbling straight into Batman's arms, causing him to step back half a step.
But Batman is not surprised. He had already identified by the footstep frequency that it was his teammate approaching, hence his rush to get there.
Natasha steadies herself, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes.
"What's going on?" Batman asks.
Natasha takes another deep breath, peeks down the long corridor, and then looks to Batman, "This might sound unbelievable, but this hospital is haunted."
Batman squints his eyes.
"I was lying there in the ward when suddenly I heard a 'cling.' I thought someone in the next room knocked something over. But when I got up to check, I saw in the reflection of the glass in the door's peep-window a ghost standing behind me."
Just as Batman was about to speak, Natasha stops him with a hand gesture and says, "I didn't take the medicines they gave me; I'm not hallucinating, and whatever that thing was moved by teleportation. As soon as I turned around, it disappeared, so it's either a ghost or a spirit, definitely not human."
Batman reverts to his serious expression and says, "You ran out of the ward."
"I had to." Natasha looks up at the top of the stairwell, "That thing is weird. The moment I turned to look at it, the cabinet next to me fell over. There was a sharp sculpture inside it that smashed the glass cabinet door and chipped the tile in front of it. If I hadn't dodged, you'd be looking at my corpse right now."
"It can influence reality."
"Yes, and I think it wants to kill us."
Natasha glances at the stairs she had just tumbled down from. A piece of tile was missing from exactly the step she had trodden on, which had been intact during the day.
Just as Batman was about to say something, Natasha, standing across from him, stiffens. The female agent instantly coils up, hiding in his arms like a frightened animal, using Batman's body to cover her mouth, and mouths to him.
"It's behind you."
Without changing his facial expression, Batman, as though comforting Natasha, places his hand on her back. The next second, the light bulb above his head explodes with a "bang", sending fragments of glass flying like shrapnel while Batman, holding Natasha, falls back hard on the floor around the corner.
The two get up from the ground. The moment Natasha turns her head back, she sees at the end of the corridor, reflected in a window, a ghost with long black hair and a red dress glaring at her with icy eyes through the gaps in her hair.
Batman sees her too.
Batman doesn't react much. After all, he's seen far scarier things in Gotham. So while the ghost locks eyes on him, he also stares right back at her.
The female ghost might be trying to scare him, but Batman is observing her for further information. Regrettably, this shadow flashes away and never reappears.
The entire corridor begins to shake frantically.
"Run!" Natasha yelled.
They sprinted toward the other end of the hallway at top speed, rushing through just a split second before the ceiling tiles and plaster plummeted down. "You've angered her!" Natasha called to Batman.
"It's not my fault." Batman responded rationally while running: "No matter what we do, she would be angry. All she wants is to be angry."
After rounding a corner, Natasha caught a glimpse of something reflected in the hospital room window, and her face turned aghast.
Natasha abruptly pulled on Batman's arm, bringing the two to a halt. Batman turned to look at her, "Why did we stop running?"
Natasha stared blankly for a moment as if she had forgotten what she wanted to say. "What do you mean 'we'?" she said to Batman. "It's as if I'm the only one running."
"I was just going along with you," Batman shrugged, "We didn't really need to run. The fragments of plaster and tile aren't heavy enough to hurt anybody."
"Have you never watched a horror film…? That's not what I mean!" Frustrated, Natasha put her hand to her forehead then pointed to the window. "Did you see anything there?"
Batman shook his head.
Natasha wore a dubious expression as she went to take a closer look. Then, without a word, she continued along the hallway, leading Batman with her.
"What did you see?"
"Nothing, probably just an illusion." Natasha brushed back her hair, but as soon as she looked up, she saw the red ghostly figure at the end of the hallway again.
Batman tried to move forward, but Natasha stopped him. Just as Batman was about to ask why, Natasha said: "We aren't shooting a horror movie, but look at the glass behind her."
Batman followed Natasha's gaze, his pupils shrank.
The look of terror, in stark contrast with his usual cool and solemn demeanor, appeared on Batman's face for the first time.
The glass behind the red ghost did not reflect her figure, nor Batman's and Natasha's. Instead, it bore the reflection of a thin, pale hand, clutching a bone-chilling knife.
That hand, obviously, didn't belong to the ghost.
Upon seeing the hand, Batman and Natasha simultaneously shout, "Run!"
Without a second thought, they turned and ran. This time, their speed was more than twice as fast as before. They whizzed through the hallway, behind them, a shrill ghostly shriek echoed.
The light bulbs and tiles in the hallway shook wildly again, plaster falling onto Batman and Natasha. As they were about to approach another stairwell, Batman swiftly pulled Natasha into the nearest hospital room.
The room was eerily quiet, with only two patients sleeping soundly. Their medication schedules hung on the bed posts, indicating that they had already taken their medications for the day. At a glance, Batman noted that both patients have schizophrenia and were prescribed similar medication dosages.
Perhaps due to the medications, both patients slept heavily and remained undisturbed by the commotion caused by Batman and Natasha.
In the darkness, Batman and Natasha exchanged a look, each reading disbelief in the other's eyes.
"I'm sure that was not an illusion." Batman was the first to speak.
"Then we're really in trouble." Natasha replied.
"Let's get out of here first." After looking around, Batman decided to leave the cramped hospital room, in case of any unexpected occurrences. It would be difficult to fight in such a small space.
Natasha followed Batman out of the room. They had only taken a few steps when they heard a sudden noise from behind. Batman turned back to see a patient, who was previously asleep by the window, had sat up.
"Possession." Natasha immediately named the phenomenon, but then hesitated, "The question is, which ghost possessed him, could it be…"
The seated patient convulsed a few times, then suddenly stood up, lunging towards Batman and Natasha with outstretched hands.
Without even attempting to dodge, Batman sent the lunging patient flying with a kick. Natasha let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God it wasn't worse. I told you we were having illusions."
Next, the second patient sat up. Before Batman could react, Natasha walked over and knocked him unconscious with a punch.
Natasha opened the door and peeked out. The hallway was still quiet, cold and gloomy. It seemed as if their room was the only one affected by the strange happenings.
A chill wind swept through the hallway, pulling at Natasha's red hair. She turned toward the source of the wind, and sure enough, she saw the red figure again.
Despite herself, Natasha looked again at the window behind the red ghost and saw even more of the pale hand gripping the boning knife.
With a bang, Natasha slammed the door shut and leaned against it, staring at Batman with an aghast expression: "It's not an illusion, it's Shiller!"