I groaned, fuck I hurt. My head pounded and Joshua's grip on my hand became numbed and subdued. Mum opened the curtain, and I was given water, as opposed to the coffee I desperately craved. I wasn't sure of the time, I wasn't sure of anything really. It was all a blur of strange occurrences. The thick rain fell on the windows deafly. I wished I could hear it, be smothered by it, feel it on my skin. I sighed, and seeing how drained I must have looked, Joshua kissed my forehead and left. I missed him immediately once he had gone- I wished he would have stayed, even if we were stuck in perpetual silences. After a quick, reassuring smile to mum, I closed my eyes, and let the steady beeping engulf me.

Micheal. I shot up out of bed, sobs ripping from my throat. My hands shook. My legs were weak. Mum was downstairs, doing god knows what. Joshua was across the hall. I gasped trying to add air into my lungs. They had seemed to stop working. A pang of pain in my chest, told me he was gone. Death remained unusually subdued in my head. I sat up. My head continuing to spin painfully, I dropped my legs out of the blanket that I had been given, and with a painful yank of the headrest, I got up. My legs seemed to be too weak to support my body weight- but I urged them on, before they twisted painfully underneath me. I tried not to make much noise, and gripped the headrest once more, pulling myself up. I pulled back the curtains and made to walk. They continued to twist under me, giving out under my weight. My body hurt, as I limped painfully down the corridor. Tears threatened to stream down my face, and I could feel my vision tunnelling. The moonlight streamed through the crack in the curtains, and all was quiet except for the beeping's of the monitor. I kept moving, focusing on the door that was still ajar, and allowed the light in the hallway to come in. I shivered, and it nearly caused my legs to fall. I was so far away from any support, I just needed to get to Joshua, to tell him what I now knew. To warn him. As tears slipped from their prisons, I continued to painfully twist across the room.

It seemed to take more than forever, and when I finally got to the door, it was enough to make my legs shake in anticipation. It took all my strength to not fall, as I gripped the door handle to keep me roughly upright. The beeping and steady breathing could be heard deeply. The footsteps of nurses emanated from outside. My eyes burned with tiredness, and my mouth stayed incredibly parched. My ears heard things that weren't there, and missed fractions of details from my surrounding, like the man in the bottom beds heart murmur, which I would have otherwise heard. I only knew of it as the nurses had been discussing it. I couldn't fill my lungs with enough air to keep my vision clear. It was tunnelled. It was frustrating to say the least, after all, who could do anything with very little vision? The hand rail that led from the door suspended on the walls, made it easier to navigate. Joshua was in the other quadrant. Meaning he was at least 1-2 corridors down from mine. I smiled grimly at nurses who were busy working on their jobs. Cleaners were now mopping the floors, without much worry of people mucking them up. I continued to grapple my way through. I was numbed to all emotions, sweat breaking down my face from shear concentration of not fucking up. I felt weaker than I had ever felt, not because of my physical wounds, but by the deaths that had occurred. I had begun to realise that it took a dreadful tole on my mortal form. I could practically feel the weight of the bag under my eyes, and the thickness of oil on my skin, mixed with sweat and hormones. I shivered, hard as my feet came into contact with the freshly mopped floors of the corridor.

Though each step was like standing on glass, I continued to move. Spurred on by the simple necessity of talking to another about something. I was not good at secrets; I was good at letting my mouth spill them. Even when I was younger I could remember Mary Jane telling me a secret about how she had kissed Tommy on the playground. Now as a six year old, naturally I didn't see any harm with telling the teachers, which of course got both of the parties in trouble. It's ironic that I never spoke to Mary Jane again. At the time, I didn't think it was too bad to tell the teachers, now I could only imagine the embarrassment she had, even if she was only six. I wanted to purge that memory from existence.

As I continued to death grip the banister, I realised that I was nearly there. It took far too much willpower, to open the thick wooden door. As it swung on its hinges, I found a group of strangers speaking over the curly head of Joshua. I found a crevice and squeezed into it, before whispering in his ear.

"Micheal's dead. Don't ask me how I know. But I do. And Joshua, he's gone." I could feel tears well up behind my eyes, and Joshua's whole demeanour changed, as he told the others to move, so he could speak to me. One of the females scowled. The others moved away and went outside. When all was gone, he took my hands, patted the bed and told me to sit. He said a few simple words, still in the tattered voice as if his vocal cords had been grated like cheese.

"What happened, Myka?"

"What didn't? I was dreaming, I must have fallen asleep but I couldn't remember doing so. And I saw Micheal. His eyes. They were staring up at me. It was like I was seeing his life drain from him, there was others, but their faces blurred into insignificance. I couldn't wrap my head around Micheal. Joshua, his eyes were dead. He's dead. I can feel it. He's gone." His fingers gripped mine. He murmured into my hair, pulling me so my body was overlapping his; he grunted with pain, but when I attempted to shift so it would be more comfortable for him, he wouldn't allow it, and held tighter.

He called the others in shortly, and made no attempt of introducing us. I stayed curled into his side, lulled by his hushed voice. I don't know how he managed to get the others in here, as it was at least three from the time in the corridor. Continuing to talk about mundane little details, and it was in this moment, of him talking that I forgot where I stopped and where he began. I fell in love with the rich simplicity of his voice, it wasn't filled with undertones, it was just cool and clear, hinted with articulacy. It was beautiful. No-one chose to question my appearance in his bed, they just accepted it as it was. I had my eyes closed, and as listening to the vibration of his chest as he discussed varied topics with the others. I had never seen them before, but they did not act cold towards Joshua- which told me, they knew each other. There was a lot of things about Joshua I did not know. For one, I did not know what would happen if Beck came back, and for two, I wasn't sure how he had managed to get onto the school roster, and why Joshua had allowed him to hunt me down. Everything hurt to move, and when the strangers left. I decided to talk to him for a while. I listed my head, from its position on his chest, and pulled myself forcefully upright. And then the headache came.

I sensed her. A twist in my gut sent my senses sky high. I felt my eyes shift, from the blue, to the black, horns erupting from the bone in my skull. My mouth open in a pained scream. And suddenly I knew. I knew who had killed Ambrose and Micheal. And I was going to kill her. Ella. I could hear her thoughts, as she slept. I could hear Micheal talking to me, telling me. My cheekbones carved their way out of my skin. My fingers became talons, which could easily disarm. I had never flipped so far, and quickly before in this mortal life. And it gave me a thrill, which no one could describe. The blood lust searing through my brain, gave way to a pit of revenge boiling in my stomach. My canines sharpened. And I was ready. My bones clicked in their sockets, unused to being used in such a strange body before. And I was hyper aware of Joshua screaming for the others now. The patients had woken up. And this was going to be fun…