Shh, quiet.

Jongin closes the staff door, turning the keys to lock it with a click. He glances from both ends of the long stretching halls and heaves out a sigh. Jongin brings a hand to put some pressure against his neck—it hurts so much it needs some salonpas later.

“Damn that Head Nurse Park, all I want is a cup of coffee.” Jongin whines to no one. Head Nurse Park Chanyeol has been bossing him around to every possible manual job an intern could possibly do.

Jongin sighs again, releasing his slight frustrations in the air and sets the key inside his pocket. The white walls makes him dizzy, the strong smell of chlorine fills his nostrils, his footsteps heavy against the neatly swept marble floor. Hospitals are crowded and noisy in the morning but the deafening silence at eleven in the evening makes Jongin uncomfortable.

“I should really log out and go—“  

—hmmm—hmm-hm- hmm…

A jolt of electricity makes him halt, soft humming vividly ruining the absolute silence.

Jongin frantically leaned back, the hallway is clear from any visitors or hospital staffs considering that it is nearing midnight.

Hmmm—mmm-mmm-mmm… love me too…

Jongin doesn’t really believe in ghost stories or creepy gossips Baekhyun was filling him whenever they got short breaks to eat snacks neither is he a great believer of evil spirits. Jongin doesn’t regard himself as coward or any sorts that tarnishes his manly image but he, himself, cannot understand as to why the hair at the back of his neck stands to no end or why he suddenly feel sick inside.

Jongin can perfectly hear the rush of his palpitation in his ears, he doesn’t know why but Jongin is scared, Jongin is never scared but right now… he is.

Slowly, Jongin takes a step, cautiously feeling around, taking bit by bit of steps, scanning the hallway.

I love you.
You love me,

The intern curses under his breath, someone is singing. Someone is ing singing and this isn’t even funny.

Jongin’s hand found the hem of his uniform, tightly gripping against the fabric until it’s all crumpled in between his fingers. “Byun Baekhyun, I swear. If you are playing pranks on me I will tell this directly to Head Nurse Park,” the intern threatens, voice barely audible as he dare to threat.

Someone chuckled.

Childlike—it was everywhere, though the sound is soft, almost a whisper. Jongin can feel the small bumps in his skin, heart clenching, the rapid thumping makes it look like his heart is about to soar out of him, Jongin finally admits—he is afraid.

The humming continues, filling the silence.

, , !

Jongin doesn’t know where his own legs brought him, doesn’t know why he’s been circling the same floor for almost half an hour, missing the elevator, missing even the stairs that was supposed to be there—even the nurse station, no one is there to help him, no patient room to open, no visitor to seek for help. Joingin doesn’t know why wherever he go, he can still hear that childlike voice, laughing—giggling, mocking, taunting Jongin’s temper, messing Jongin’s mind, another set of laugh echoes through the hallway that had the intern taking a break.

Hmmm—hmm-hm-hm… I can see you,

Was it a coincidence? Or was it planned by someone? Neither of them, Jongin has no idea why he’d stop, right in front of the nursery.

“Yes, yes—I’m sure we’ll have fun.”

It was Sehun’s voice, Jongin lights up with hope. Sehun could be inside the nursery, Sehun could be with another person, Jongin could be saved from this—this horror, this nightmare happening in his own reality. Jongin could be—

From the small crack of the thick curtain behind the big glass window, Jongin peeked to see if Sehun is inside, only to get pale and trembling, knocked out of breath, with the sudden splutter of blood against the glass, coloring it red with the droplets, even staining the mint green curtain.

Terror.

Jongin wanted to run, bang the door and save Sehun, he wanted to run and run and run and leave his friend behind, Jongin wanted to save Sehun but Jongin wanted to save himself more. Someone inside there just killed a person—or a baby! No matter how fast his heartbeat is, or how much his mind tells him to leave, Jongin couldn’t move his legs nor his eyes.

The lights inside blinks, illuminating a glimpse of body hunched on a metal stool not far away from the glass window, back facing Jongin. The shoulders are broad, hair strands stands out in chocolate brown, dressed in given university scrub, one hand strained in the air, holding something so thin Jongin couldn’t identify.

“Hmm, hmm—hmm-hmm- I love you…” Sehun.

Sehun, go! Leave! Sehun! Jongin wants to scream, Jongin wants to yell at Sehun but Sehun is humming, creating his own world inside the familiar song that has been haunting Jongin. Don’t—

“What would you like me to do next, Lu? Should I stitch your legs, too?” moving a bit, Sehun drops a small limp body on his lap, picking up the thread attached to a needle. Sehun is aware of the blood pooling out of the small figure, creating a small lake of red against the white flooring. “I think—what? You want me to stitch your arms first?”

Jongin watches Sehun glance to his side, shifting completely, making it more visible for Jongin. He should’ve just stayed the way he is sitting earlier, Jongin should’ve ran and never look back, he should’ve avoided looking at Sehun’s face—full of scratches, blood covering half of his face, lips smiling genuinely to a doll sitting on top of a carrier. Jongin can perfectly see the wounds in Sehun’s arms—it was covered with dried blood, yellow greenish substance pooling out, small white worms crawling on the surface of each lacerations—it was decaying, Jongin feels the bile at the back of his throat, the recoil was too much he has to cover his mouth.

When the intern’s eyes slides down to Sehun’s lap, he was not mistaken. It was a dead baby, head smashed that was dented on the side, Jongin can practically imagine how Sehun slammed the poor one against the floor or any concrete object near him. The small figure’s head was cut open, abrasions trailing down to its eyes, it was missing an arm, flesh peeking out with a glimpse of the white bone—Jongin couldn’t look. This is too much! They—He cut it open!

Sehun.

Sehun is smiling down while lovingly patting the small doll’s face, the back of his hand caressing the doll’s cheek. Jongin—Jongin feels like he’s looking at something he shouldn’t be looking at. He had seen a murder but this, the look in Sehun’s eyes—this is mad.

Sehun leans down a bit, squishing the small limp figure on his lap as he level his gaze with the doll, red liquid oozing more like a sponge. “I love you…” Jongin had to tightly cover his mouth, he was screaming, screaming from the inside as his stomach twists into something rather painful. No! This is madness, this is ridiculous—Sehun shouldn’t be looking at that old piece of trash with overflowing admiration and pure love.

It is a doll!

It is a ing doll and Sehun just killed an innocent life—for a doll!

“I love you—hmm…” Sehun stops then hums. The wide smile adorning his face drops as his lips tightens in a straight line. In one swift move, Sehun grabbed the remaining small arm of the baby and tossed it carelessly on the floor, something that made Jongin’s whole body shudder from the lack of empathy. “Do you think he’s still watching us, Lu?” it was a whisper, airy.

Sehun talks with the doll, Jongin’s skin crawls at the sight, disgusting and terrifying. Sehun had been odd for the past weeks but it never occurred to Jongin that Sehun lost his mind. This is crazy—why would, how would—why? Why, Sehun?

“Hmm, hmm, hmm-hmm—Luhan doesn’t like hide and seek,” Sehun picks up the doll gently from the carrier, bringing it near his chest as he gather his feet, white shoes drenching from the blood, pale crimson sipping through the fabric of the shoes. “Luhan can see you perfectly, Jongin.”

The intern cursed, this time forgetting how to breathe. The horror in his face tells how much he wants to snap back into reality from this awful nightmare. Jongin swears to those big brown eyes, slowly—so slowly sliding to meet his fear-stricken ones. The smile was there… the smile was there, bright, mischievous, taunting—disconcerting.

The head turns to face Jongin, Luhan doll faced him.

Those big brown eyes, the cheerfulness was long gone, replaced by the diabolic eyes staring straight back at Jongin.

Those thin pink lips, smiling warmly drops into a grin, evil, almost reaching the equally evil orbs, so terrifying—so—

Sehun made a face, frowning at Jongin. There is an unfinished stitch at the corner of his mouth stretching up to the middle, someone stitched Sehun’s mouth—or he did it to himself. Jongin doesn’t know, Jongin doesn’t want to know. He keeps on shouting for help, screaming for someone’s help.

The doll’s hand moves to touch Sehun’s wrist, tiny fingers digging the skin, clawing it out and Sehun remains impassive, almost frowning—he pities Jongin. “Luhan likes you, Jongin.” The disdain was there, blood starts to leak from the wound.

Sehun! Sehun!

Sehun looks dead, Sehun what have you done?

The Luhan doll giggles, childlike voice piercing Jongin’s ears as the intern crawls back, hitting the wall. He has nowhere to go.

The light goes out. The shout coming out of Jongin’s mouth is full of desperation, fear, everything all mixed.

“No—no—no! NO! Don’t come near me! Don’t—no—Sehun! Help! Help! Sehun—please! Someone, help me! Please—plea—hel—som—no—“

Sehun smiles warmly at the corpse lying on the floor, proud of his another masterpiece. Left eye ripped from the socket. “I should take the other one too, right, Lu?”

The doll all but smiles.

-

Baekhyun asked him about the dark bags hanging under his eyes, Sehun smiles warmly at the other intern, placing down his food tray on top of the small table in the nurse station. The older shrugs and continue organizing the medical chart.

“I have been stitching all night,” he smiles, just like the doll he loves.