The Hospital Trap

Alena's head throbbed. Her entire body ached as if pierced by thousands of needles.

The familiar scent of antiseptic filled her nostrils. The steady beep of a heart monitor hummed softly.

She opened her eyes slowly. White ceiling.

Hospital.

She recognized this place. Manhattan Memorial Hospital—where she was always treated. But how did she end up here?

"Miss Kensington! Thank God, you're awake!"

Nurse Anna's voice, the nurse who'd been caring for her all this time, sounded relieved. Her face appeared beside Alena with a genuine smile.

"W-what happened?" Alena's voice was hoarse. Her throat felt parched. "How did I get here?"

"You collapsed on the street, Miss. Luckily, a kind stranger brought you in. We were so worried."

A kind stranger? Who?

Alena tried to remember. The elevator. A man in a black suit. A deep voice asking if she was okay. Then... darkness.

"Where—"

"Alena! Thank heavens you're awake!"

Before Alena could ask more, the door to her room swung open. Dr. Julian Marks strode in with a stethoscope around his neck. His smile was broad, deliberately warm.

"How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"

He approached, checking the monitor beside her with an expression of deep concern.

But Alena was starting to remember. She remembered everything.

Dr. Julian Marks. The doctor she'd trusted had betrayed her by leaking her medical information to Tristan and Sienna. He was probably even involved in their plan to kill her.

"Fine," Alena lied. Her heart raced.

She knew she had to leave. Now. As quickly as possible. Without making the doctor suspicious.

"Good. Now we're going to give you an injection. It's important to stabilize your condition."

Dr. Julian picked up a syringe from the table. The clear liquid inside gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

Alena's instincts screamed danger.

What was that liquid? Chemotherapy? Or poison?

"Wait—" Alena tried to sit up, but her body was too weak.

"Relax, Alena. This won't hurt." Dr. Julian moved closer with the needle in his hand.

"No! Don't touch me!"

Alena shoved his hand with all her strength. The needle clattered to the floor. Nurse Anna jumped back in shock.

"Miss Kensington! What are you doing?"

"Don't let him inject me, nurse! Dr. Julian is working with my husband to kill me!"

Dr. Julian stepped back, his expression shifting from concern to cold calculation. A flash of emotion crossed his eyes, but he tried to maintain his composure.

"Alena, you're hallucinating. This is an effect of your deteriorating condition—"

"I'M NOT HALLUCINATING!"

Alena ripped the IV from her arm. Blood dripped, but she didn't care. She had to get out of here.

"You're all conspiring to murder me."

"Nurse Anna, restrain the patient! She's in a state of delirium—" Dr. Julian commanded with firm authority.

"I'm sorry, Miss—"

Nurse Anna tried to hold Alena's arms, but she leaped down from the bed. Her legs trembled, barely able to support her weight. But Alena kept moving. She ran.

"ALENA, STOP!"

The doctor and nurse gave chase.

Alena burst out of the room. The hospital corridor stretched long and white. Several nurses turned toward her with confused expressions.

"Can I help you, Miss?!"

A young nurse tried to intercept her. But Alena didn't care. Her legs kept running even though her body felt weightless. She stumbled and nearly fell.

"ALENA!"

That voice.

Alena looked back. Tristan Kensington. Her husband. Walking briskly toward her with Sienna at his side.

No.

Alena ran again, but her body felt impossibly weak.

"Honey, what's wrong? Why are you running?" Tristan tried to sound worried, but Alena knew it was just an act.

"DON'T COME NEAR ME!"

Alena backed away until her spine hit the wall.

"Let me go."

"Alena, listen to me. You're sick. We just want to help you—" Sienna attempted a smile, but it looked like a mask.

"YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME! STOP PRETENDING TO CARE!"

Several nurses and patients began to gather, staring at them in confusion. But no one believed her. They all thought Alena was crazy.

"Dr. Julian, what's happening?"

Tristan looked at the doctor, who now stood behind Alena, blocking her escape route.

"She's experiencing acute delirium. Her leukemia is worsening. She's hallucinating and paranoid—normal symptoms for late-stage patients." Dr. Julian explained in a perfectly professional tone.

"No! I'm not hallucinating! They're evil. They want to kill me."

Alena tried to explain. But no one was listening.

Nurse Anna and two other nurses approached, trying to calm her.

"Miss Kensington, please calm down. We're not going to hurt you—"

"NO! THEY WANT TO KILL ME!"

Alena screamed as loud as she could, hoping someone—anyone—would believe her. But their eyes were all filled with pity. Pity for a dying madwoman.

Tristan moved closer. His hand gripped Alena's arm, squeezing too hard.

"Sweetheart, this is for your own good. Let's go back to your room."

"Let go of me! LET GO!"

Alena fought with every ounce of strength she had. But her body was too weak. She couldn't resist. They dragged her down the corridor, back toward her room.

"Help! Please, someone help me!"

Alena locked eyes with Nurse Anna—the only person who'd always been kind to her. The woman who always smiled when changing her IV. The woman who asked how she was every morning.

"Nurse... please save me... they... they want to kill me..." Alena's voice grew faint. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Nurse Anna looked at her with glistening eyes. "Miss... you just need to rest. Everything will be okay..."

She didn't believe her. No one believed her.

Alena's body went limp. Her legs could no longer support her. They dragged her back into the room. The door closed behind them.

Tristan stared at Alena with a terrifying smile. "You think you can escape, Alena? You think anyone will believe a dying madwoman?"

Sienna stood beside him, their hands intertwined. Like the perfect couple.

Dr. Julian retrieved a fresh syringe from the drawer. "Now, let's continue your treatment."

"Don't... please... don't..."

But no one was listening.

Alena's vision began to blur. Her body no longer responded. She could only cry for her own helplessness.

The needle pierced her arm. Cold liquid flooded into her veins.

"Sleep well, Alena." Tristan's voice echoed from somewhere far away. "I hope you never wake up again."

Everything went dark.