Reincarnation Hospital.
First floor, registration area.
Large patches of gray paint were peeling from the walls, revealing dark brown, unidentified bloodstains underneath. The hanging incandescent lights were coated in a murky film, and intermittent sobs could be heard drifting through the corridors.
The patients here all had their heads bowed, their skin a dull gray. A dinner knife was sticking out of one's head, while another was entangled in aquatic weeds, their skin bloated as if they had been soaking in a cold pond for a long time.
The service center was deserted. A nearby electronic screen flickered with garbled text, next to it a glass half-filled with coagulated blood plasma.
All the women had been transported to the hospital at the same time.
Everyone could smell the scent of disinfectant mixed with rust, a sensation like countless tiny insects squirming in their tracheas.
This bizarre scene was far more terrifying than the Blood Moon Restaurant.
More importantly!
