The Hollow Ward
A lone nurse. A skeleton crew. A hospital breathing its last ragged breath before closure.
But St. Ignatius Memorial has never played by mortal rules.
When night shift nurse Anya Wu discovers Patient M. Patel-no record, no history, no pulse-in Room 413, she thinks it's a paperwork error. Then the monitors scream. The walls bleed. The floor tiles ripple like muscle. And the whispers begin: Aha, now I have you.
What follows is a descent into a labyrinth where the dead don't stay buried, the walls remember every sin, and trust is the first casualty. The hospital's shifting anatomy-hallways that coil like intestines, chapels fused with coal-black roots, morgue drawers that rattle with familiar voices-becomes a prison. Every corner hides a ghost with a grudge. Every ally wears a familiar face... until they don't.
As Anya unravels the threads of a century of horrors-orphans traded for "medical progress," nurses swallowed by the building's hungers, a heartbeat thudding deep in the mines below-she realizes the truth: St. Ignatius isn't closing. It's evolving. And the thing in the dark, the Keeper with Dr. Carter's smile and a rose made of skin, has been waiting for her.
But the real question isn't how to escape.
It's who you'll become when the hospital peels back your flesh and rewrites your bones.
By the final chapters, you'll read by the sliver of light beneath your door. You'll flinch at the creak of floorboards. And when the clock strikes 3:15 a.m., you'll swear you hear the distant thud-thud of a heart that never stopped beating...
...because it's yours.
Dare to step inside?
The walls are listening.
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