There was something unusual about Claire.

Her obsession with death leads to a strange discovery.

My name is Edwin, and here's a scary story.

I pretended not to notice that the guard was asleep when I came into the reception area of Beckin's hospital.

The door didn't close properly, so I gave it a little slab and watched the old man jump up and look

at me as though he was looking at the devil himself.

God knows what these people dream of when they sleep, especially considering that it had only been a couple of days since the incident.

Mr. Gomez, he said, his voice still crackling with sticky spits from when you just wake up, and he cleared his throat.

I'm here for Isabelle. She said she was going to get here a bit earlier than usual.

Ah, yes, he said, looking through a clipboard he had on the desk in front of him.

He didn't read anything.

I could tell, but he stood up and pointed me toward the break room.

The giant digital clock above the doorframe read 443. Right on schedule.

Over there, he said.

I'm sure you should be over there.

I was wondering if the guard even knew who stepped foot in there,

but I took his word for it and walked over.

I try not to look over the source of the sound of this constant beeping,

overlapping from

the two rooms down the dark hallway to my left.

That hallway seemed to never end despite this being such a small hospital.

I think it was built back when they had more people in there.

...