The Hospital: Book 3 of 'The Advocate' series (The Advocate Series) by Ashley Beegan

Author:Ashley Beegan [Beegan, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2022-03-30T23:00:00+00:00

21

Swanson

Swanson opened his heavy eyes, but the darkness was all-encompassing. He couldn’t make out a thing. His body ached all over and he stretched his arms with a groan. It must be the middle of the night. Once again, he’d fallen asleep on the sofa.

A rancid, burning smell infiltrated his nostrils. It clogged his throat and made him gag, forcing him to sit up straight on the sofa. What the hell was that? Had he left something in the oven? Meat? A red light in the corner of the darkness caught his half-open eye. He squeezed his eyes and opened them again to focus his blurred vision. The light needed to be turned on. He needed to–

Nausea heaved up from his stomach.

The devil had come for him.

Red eyes were staring at him from a horned and grotesque head. No mouth or body was visible, but Swanson knew what it was.

He tried to stand up, but his body wouldn’t move. He was frozen to the spot. Sentenced to sit there and die without a fight.

“You’re here for me.” He heard his own voice say the words, but his lips didn’t move.

The devil didn’t reply, but it began to bleed. Blood seeped from the red eyes, just a few tear drops at first. Within seconds the blood ran like a tap, and then a river.

And still Swanson couldn’t move.

The blood surrounded him and filled the living room floor. It rose over his feet, then his knees, and he knew he was going to drown in the devil’s blood. He closed his eyes and waited for death.

And the heaviness in the room disappeared.

Swanson opened one eye, and the devil had gone. Instead, Dr Randall stood there, surrounded by a pale light. He wore a maniacal grin and pointed a grotesquely long finger at Swanson.

“The devil is here,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Swanson again heard his own voice speak, though his lips never moved.

“You already know,” Dr Randall said, and disappeared.

As soon as he was gone, daylight filled the room. The heavy feeling and disorientation dissipated. He was free. He stood up and rubbed his face roughly, trying to shake off whatever the hell he had just experienced. His work shirt was soaked through with sweat, as were his hair and beard. His breath came in heavy pants. What the fuck was that?

A nightmare? He never even dreamed, never mind had nightmares so vivid. Can you have a nightmare whilst awake? He rubbed his face again. He should have read the side effects on those damn painkillers.

He looked down at his crumpled, damp mess of a suit. It wasn’t unusual for him to fall asleep on the sofa, but he usually managed to at least strip down to his pants first. He stretched and twisted to get his aching body to move and get rid of the pain in his neck. But the memory of Summer made him freeze.

He had to know if she was OK. He rubbed his tired eyes hard and forced them back open to search the living room for his phone.

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