After a long, harrowing night, the motel room was eerily still. The flickering light of the duct-taped flashlights had provided just enough protection to keep the Umbrella Man at bay, their beams casting long shadows on the walls. Alex was the first to wake up, his body stiff from the tension and his mind racing from the images of the previous night. He sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and glanced around the room—Maya, Ethan, and Lena were still asleep, their bodies curled up in the protective glow of the flashlights.
Quietly, Alex dressed and slipped out the door. He needed to clear his head and get some food for everyone.
The nearest superstore wasn't far, just a short drive away. As he walked inside, the fluorescent lights of the store buzzed overhead, harsh against his tired eyes. He grabbed a basket and began to fill it: breakfast burritos for himself and a large coffee to keep him awake. For Maya, he chose instant oatmeal with a side of bananas. Ethan would have a granola bar and a huge tub of yogurt, paired with sparkling water. And for Lena, her favorite—bagel with cream cheese and a small bottle of grape juice.
But as he approached the checkout counter, the gruesome death of the previous cashier played in his mind on an endless loop. He could still hear the bone-snapping, still see the man's body twisting in impossible directions, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. Alex's heart raced, his palms sweaty as he placed the items on the counter.
"Hello? Sir? Sir, hello?" The cashier's voice cut through his daze. "Next!"
Alex snapped back to reality, blinking at the woman behind the register. "Sorry... sorry about that, I was daydreaming," he muttered, trying to sound normal.
The cashier raised an eyebrow, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Sure."
She scanned the items, her eyes glancing at him curiously. "You alright? You don't look so good."
Alex forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah... yeah, I'm okay," he lied, feeling the weight of last night's horrors pressing down on him. His voice was low, strained. He grabbed the bags quickly and left without another word.
Back at the motel, the room was quieter than before. Maya had just woken up, her body still aching from the trauma, her fingers bandaged. When she saw Alex return, she immediately stood up, crossing the room to hug him tightly.
"Are you okay, Alex?" she asked softly, her hands gently cupping his face, searching his eyes for some sign of relief. There was a tenderness in her voice, but it was heavy with concern.
Alex's chest tightened. He nodded, trying to ease the worry in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm good," he said, though his voice wavered. "I feel... better than last night." But his words lacked conviction, and they both knew it.
They sat around the small table in the room, the breakfast Alex had brought now spread out between them. The tension was palpable as they quietly ate, each bite filled with unspoken fears. The flashlights taped to the bedframes still flickered faintly, their hum the only sound cutting through the stillness.
Alex cleared his throat, trying to break the silence. "We need to go to the hospital," he said, his voice low but firm. "Your wounds... we need to get them checked out. We can't just—"
Everyone froze. Lena, who was still bandaged and nursing her injured arm, snapped her head toward him. Her face twisted in disbelief, and she struggled to sit up, wincing from the pain. "Are you crazy, Alex?" she gasped, her voice sharp. "Do you want us to get killed? Or worse, drag innocent people into this? You think the Umbrella Man will just let us stroll into a hospital?"
Ethan nodded, swallowing hard. "She's right, man. We go there, we could get other people killed." His voice was steady, but there was a tremor of fear beneath it.
Alex clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as frustration boiled over. He slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the plates. "You're all hurt!" he yelled, his voice filled with desperation. "Lena, you have a broken arm. Ethan, you're missing fingernails and a freaking tooth! Maya's fingers are broken—you all need medical attention!"
Maya, silent until now, glanced down at her bandaged hand, flexing her fingers as best she could. The pain was still sharp, but she knew Alex was right. Still, she said nothing, feeling the tension rise between them.
Lena's face contorted in anger, her hand gripping her injured arm as the pain shot through her again. "And what if the Umbrella Man follows us there? What then, Alex? You think he won't tear through the hospital? Do you want more people to die? Is that what you want?"
Alex's heart pounded, the guilt from the previous night suffocating him. His voice cracked as he shouted, "No! I just..." His eyes darted from Lena to Ethan, then to Maya, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like a vice. "I'll go to my grandparents' house," he said, the words spilling out in desperation. "They'll know what to do. They'll know how to stop him!"
The room fell into a tense silence, only the buzzing of the flashlights filling the void.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your grandparents? How the hell are they supposed to help us stop a thing like that?"
Alex ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "My grandfather knew about these... these things. Supernatural stuff. He used to tell me stories—legends. He'll know what to do. He has to."
Lena scoffed, wincing as the movement jarred her broken arm. "And if he doesn't? What then? We're just supposed to sit here and wait to die?"
Maya reached across the table, placing her uninjured hand on Alex's arm. Her touch was soft, but her voice was steady. "Alex... I trust you. If you think your grandparents can help, then we should try." She paused, her eyes meeting his. "But we have to be careful. The Umbrella Man isn't going to stop, not until he gets what he wants."
Alex stared at her, the weight of her words settling over him like a heavy blanket. He took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "I know," he whispered. "We'll be careful. I promise."
But deep down, he wasn't sure he believed it.
After they finished their breakfast, the group quietly took turns showering, each of them lost in their own thoughts, trying to wash away the grime of fear and blood from the night before. The hot water provided a brief moment of respite, but the horrors they had faced still clung to their skin, refusing to let go.
Once cleaned up and dressed, they packed what little they had and made the decision to head to the nearest hospital.
As Alex drove, the atmosphere in the car was tense. The winding roads seemed endless, the dark clouds above casting shadows that mirrored the Umbrella Man's presence, making them feel as though they were constantly being watched.
When they finally pulled up to the hospital, the glowing red emergency sign flickering in the distance, they sat there for a moment in silence, parked in the lot just outside the entrance.
Alex turned off the engine and took a deep breath. He turned to the others, his eyes dark with exhaustion. "Alright," he started, his voice low but firm. "Before we go in, we need to be smart about this. We can't just walk in like everything's fine."
Maya, sitting beside him in the passenger seat, nodded, still nursing her injured hand. "You think he'll follow us here?" she asked, her voice quiet, but tinged with worry.
Alex rubbed his temple, his mind racing. "I don't know. I don't think he'll show up here, but we can't take any chances." He reached into the back seat, grabbing one of the flashlights he had bought earlier. He clicked it on, the light flickering slightly before stabilizing. "Take these," he said, handing one to Ethan and another to Lena. "Keep the flashlights and extra batteries with you at all times. If he shows up, this might be the only thing that keeps him away."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, accepting the flashlight, but still uneasy. "We're really going into a hospital with these things, huh?" he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual sarcasm. The fear was evident in his eyes.
Lena winced as she adjusted herself in the backseat, her injured arm resting awkwardly in a makeshift sling. "Better to look ridiculous than end up dead," she said flatly, her voice sharp but weary.
Alex gave a weak nod, gripping the steering wheel tighter. He looked out toward the hospital entrance, the automatic doors sliding open and closed as people passed through, oblivious to the danger that lurked just outside their reality. "You three go in and get checked out," he said, turning the key in the ignition again. "I'll drive to my grandparents' house and see what I can dig up about the Umbrella Man. I need to know more... how to stop him."
Maya placed a hand on his arm, her touch soft but firm. "Are you sure you should go alone?" Her voice wavered, her worry for him evident. "What if—"
"I'll be fine," Alex interrupted, trying to reassure her, though he wasn't sure if he believed it himself. "I have my own flashlight. Besides, someone needs to figure out how to end this. We can't keep running forever." He gave her a small, forced smile before turning to the rest of the group. "Just... stay safe in there."
Ethan sighed, opening the car door with a heavy push. "We'll be fine. Just hurry back, okay? Hospitals freak me out even without haunted umbrella dudes."
Lena managed a weak smile, though her face still twisted in pain. "Go get the answers, Alex. We'll hold down the fort here."
Maya lingered for a moment longer, her eyes lingering on Alex's face before she finally nodded. "Be careful," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Without another word, Alex watched as the three of them walked toward the hospital, their figures silhouetted against the bright lights of the emergency entrance. His heart pounded in his chest as they disappeared inside. He sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, knowing what he had to do but feeling the weight of the responsibility crushing him.
With one last glance at the hospital, Alex pulled out of the lot and drove away into the darkening afternoon, heading toward his grandparents' house, hoping they had answers—answers he desperately needed before it was too late.
As they stepped into the hospital reception area, the bright, sterile lights made them squint. The receptionist took one look at the group—bruised, bandaged, and battered—and her face immediately shifted from casual indifference to concern.
"Are you all alright?" she asked, her eyes widening as she took in their injuries. Before they could even answer, she reached for the phone. "I'll get some help. You need immediate attention."
Maya, holding her injured hand close to her chest, stepped forward, her voice soft but insistent. "Can we... can we all stay in the same room? Please?" Her eyes were filled with exhaustion and fear. She didn't want to be separated from the others after everything that had happened. Being alone felt too dangerous, too exposed.
One of the nurses, already hurrying over with a wheelchair for Lena, overheard and shook her head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but that's impossible. You've all got different injuries, and we'll need to take you to different parts of the hospital. But don't worry, we'll take care of you."
Maya frowned but nodded, glancing at Ethan and Lena. Ethan gave her a weak nod, trying to reassure her, but his hand instinctively reached for his flashlight in his pocket, a reminder of the looming threat.
Lena was taken first, her arm resting in a sling as she was wheeled toward the radiology department for an X-ray. The tension in her face betrayed the immense pain she was in, but she said nothing, her lips pressed into a thin line. The nurse wheeled her into a room lined with machines, the cool air making her shiver.
She lay still as the X-ray was taken, the machine humming quietly as it captured the damage hidden beneath her skin. When the images came up on the screen, the doctor who was examining them furrowed his brow, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief. He looked back at Lena, then at the scan, his fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the screen.
After what felt like an eternity, the doctor approached Lena's bed, his face pale and grim. He took a deep breath, clearly uneasy with what he had to say.
"Miss Martinez," he began, his voice calm but heavy with the weight of terrible news, "the damage in your arm is... beyond anything we can repair. Surgery won't help."
Lena blinked, her heart pounding in her chest. She had expected bad news, but the look on his face made her stomach drop.
The doctor hesitated, then continued. "I've never seen an injury quite like this in all my years as a doctor. Your arm... it's beyond repair. The bones are crushed in a way I've never encountered before, as if they were twisted and broken from the inside out." He paused, his eyes softening. "I'm afraid we have no choice but to amputate."
The words hit Lena like an anvil dropping into the deepest part of the ocean. Her heart sank, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
"Amputate?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if saying the word aloud made it even more real. Her mind swirled, trying to process the enormity of what was happening. She stared at her injured arm, numb, unable to comprehend a future without it.
The doctor nodded solemnly, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Lena. I truly am. We'll need to discuss options and the next steps, but I wanted to give you some time to process this."
He lingered for a moment, unsure if she would say anything. When she didn't respond, still too shocked to speak, he left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
Lena sat in stunned silence, the doctor's words still echoing in her mind—amputate. The reality of it crashed over her like a wave, and she couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she knew it, she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her whole body shook as she cried, her heart breaking under the weight of it all.
How am I supposed to keep living like this? she thought, her chest tightening with fear. How will I face my parents? What will they think?
A torrent of questions flooded her mind. She could barely breathe as the fear and grief overwhelmed her. The thought of her future—living without an arm—felt impossible. She had always been independent, but now... now she didn't know how she was going to carry on.
The tears wouldn't stop. Lena broke down completely, her sobs filling the small hospital room. It felt like everything had come crashing down at once.
Meanwhile, across the hospital, Ethan sat in his room. A doctor stood beside him, studying his chart. After a brief examination, the doctor gave him a small smile, but Ethan could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
"Good news," the doctor began. "Your injuries, while painful, will heal. You'll need at least six months for a full recovery, and your fingernails should regrow in time. No permanent damage." He scribbled something on the clipboard before looking back at Ethan. "But you'll need to stay in the hospital for some tests. We want to make sure there are no infections or other complications from... whatever caused this."
Ethan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Six months, he thought. It felt like forever, but compared to what Lena was going through, it was nothing.
As the nurse approached to clean the scars and bruises on his face, she gently dabbed a cotton pad along his jawline. She paused, looking into his eyes with genuine curiosity. "What happened to your face?" she asked, her voice soft but insistent.
Ethan hesitated, then gave her a tired, almost bitter smile. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," he said quietly, his eyes dark with the weight of what he had experienced.
The nurse glanced at him curiously but didn't press. She had seen all kinds of injuries in her career, but something about this group unsettled her. She continued her work in silence, trying to make Ethan as comfortable as possible, even though he had to stay for further tests.
In another part of the hospital, Maya was sitting up in bed, flexing her fingers slowly, wincing at the pain but feeling a strange sense of relief. A doctor stood at her bedside, his hands gentle but firm as he examined her injuries.
"You got lucky," the doctor said as he adjusted the bandages around her hand. "Your fingers were snapped back into place, but the healing process will take a few weeks. With proper care, you'll regain full use of them."
Maya nodded, though her mind wasn't entirely focused on the words. She was thinking of Lena, of Ethan, and of Alex, wondering what was happening with him. Her own injuries felt small in comparison to the others, but the horror of the night still clung to her like a shadow.
She glanced down at her bandaged fingers, the dull ache throbbing with each heartbeat. Weeks of healing, she thought, trying to take comfort in the fact that her injuries weren't as bad as they could have been.
But the memory of being hung by those chains, of the Umbrella Man's cold voice, still haunted her. She knew they weren't safe. Not yet. And until they stopped him, the fear would never really go away.
Maya left her room, the sterile white walls of the hospital making her feel boxed in. She needed to find Lena. Her own fingers ached beneath the bandages, but her mind was elsewhere—on Lena, on how her friend was handling the terrible news. Maya's chest tightened as she approached the reception desk.
"Excuse me," she said softly to the receptionist, who glanced up from her computer. "Can you tell me where Lena Martinez's room is?"
The receptionist tapped a few keys and glanced at the screen. "Room 159," she said with a polite nod.
"Thank you," Maya muttered, her heart beating faster. She made her way to the side of the hospital where Lena's room was, her steps slow and hesitant. Part of her wanted to turn back, to give Lena some space, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Lena needed her—now more than ever.
As Maya approached Lena's room, she heard something that made her freeze in her tracks: the sound of deep, heart-wrenching sobs. Lena was crying—crying so hard that Maya's own throat tightened in sympathy. For a solid 20 minutes, Lena had been crying her heart out, and even though Maya couldn't see her yet, she could feel the weight of Lena's anguish.
Maya reached the elevator, her mind racing, and when the doors slid open, she took a deep breath. This wouldn't be easy.
When she reached Lena's door, she knocked gently before pushing it open. Lena was sitting on the edge of the bed, her arm heavily wrapped in a cast, staring out the window. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, but when she heard the door creak open, she quickly wiped her tears with the back of her good hand, composing herself as best she could.
Maya walked in, her steps slow, careful. "Hey, Lena..." she greeted softly, her voice filled with concern.
Lena turned to face her, her expression hard, eyes filled with anger and pain. The tears that she had just wiped away welled up again, but this time, they were tears of rage.
Before Maya could say another word, Lena's face twisted, and she broke. "This is all your fault," she spat, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "You, Alex, Ethan—I told you not to go along with that stupid story. And now look at us!"
Maya's heart dropped, and she froze, unsure of how to respond.
Lena's voice cracked as she continued, her words a torrent of fury and grief. "But no, you all had to listen to Alex, didn't you? Had to summon that fucking demon, huh? How does it feel, Maya? To know that the Umbrella Man is real? That we're being hunted by some sick creature that sacrifices babies, Maya! I almost lost my life, and now—" her voice faltered, but she pushed through, "I'm going to lose my fucking arm because of that stupid story. And all because none of you would listen."
Maya stood there, stunned, her mouth slightly open, unsure of what to say. Lena's words cut through her like a blade.
Lena was trembling now, her tears flowing freely, her face twisted in anger and agony. "We're being hunted by a demon with an umbrella, Maya. You... you almost died because of it. And now I'm—" her voice broke, "I'm going to lose my arm, Maya. Do you get that? My arm."
Maya took a step forward, her own voice barely a whisper. "Lena, I—"
"No!" Lena screamed, cutting her off. "No, don't you dare try to make this better. I don't want your pity! I don't want any of you near me. Fuck you, fuck Ethan, fuck Alex! You've ruined everything!" Her voice cracked as she shouted, her body shaking with sobs again. "I trusted you, all of you. And now look at what's happened to us."
Maya's throat tightened, guilt and pain swelling inside her. She wanted to speak, to offer some sort of comfort, but nothing seemed right. Nothing could undo what had happened. Lena's words hit her harder than she could have imagined.
"I don't know what to say..." Maya finally whispered, her voice broken, her eyes welling with tears.
Lena looked away, her gaze fixed back on the window, her face a mask of despair. "Then say nothing," she muttered coldly, her voice barely audible. "Just go."
Maya stood there for a long moment, her chest tightening, before she slowly turned and walked out of the room. As the door closed behind her, Lena's sobs echoed through the hallway, a sound so full of loss that it made Maya's knees feel weak.
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ76eY8f5G17
