The further she got down the hall, the more foolish she felt. Her hand rested at her side once more, another smile creeping along her pouted lips. She was merely imagining things, she thought to herself. It would defy the laws of logical thinking for something to suddenly-
“Sarah-?” a voice sounded from somewhere down the hallway.
The voice had a certain timbre to it. It had a sloppy, wet tone, as if the person was attempting to speak while underwater. It sounded unnatural.
“Doctor Rean?” she called out in answer, her feet picking up in a run.
He was a nice, older man that had taken her under his wing the day she began working. He showed her around the building, as well as taught her some of the subtleties of her fellow coworkers. She had enjoyed the old man's company, even considered him a friend.
“Please help me,” she heard him say again as she rounded the hallway, directly before Cell C.
Her hand immediately covered her mouth, to avoid screaming. Dr. Rean Was slumped against the wall, his eyes looking up into her's.
In the least, his eye sockets were.
His once wrinkled, yet healthy looking skin was now blanketed with sickening lesions and black necrosis. Blood covered his body; she knew well it to be his own. Trails of gooey, reddened paste oozed from his ears, nose and eyes. He opened his mouth to reveal a swollen, blackened tongue.
“Help me,” he repeated the plea, that past wetness to his voice now evident as more of that same red goo crept from the corners of his lips.
Sarah took a step back, her back pressed against the wall. Dr. Rean got on his hands and knees, more wet sloshing sounds reverberating from his body. It was as if he was liquefying.
“It's so painful,” he managed to say while crawling to her, “help me.”
She shook her head from side to side. He was beyond any kind of assistance.
“I can't,” she said, “I have to go.”
She attempted to step past him, but he grabbed a hold of her calf. His hand was slick and puffy.
“You can't leave me-”
She kicked his hand away and quickly ran past him. She stopped a moment as the horror of the full event set in, as her eyes settled upon Cell C. Hand shaped blood prints coated the walls. A desk was overturned, papers and glass spilled upon the fluid stained floor. Both of the lights were shattered above. Long cracks ran down the inside of the door. It looked bowed out in specific areas, more blood and other strange liquids splashed upon it.
“Sarah!” Rean had shouted behind her.
That same timbre, blended with his tone of utmost urgency, caused a shudder to crawl along her shoulders. She dare not look at him; she was amazed that her stomach hadn't contracted already. She swallowed down a glob of unpleasant tasting saliva and ran for the stairs.
She ignored Dr. Rean's cries slowly fading away as her feet clattered noisily upon the concrete of the stairwell. She jumped from the third step leading to the bottom and quickly rounded a left.
What had happened? How could it have escaped, let alone do that in such short time?
The cherry red receiver hung from the walls just a few paces ahead. Sarah practically leapt for it. She ripped it from the handle and pressed the plastic to her ear. The ringing, a drone of monotone sound filled her head, calming her and slowing her racing heart.
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