What's poppin', peeps? So before going for the update, please take time to read this:

So I haven't told you guys that today's update was gonna be a double feature LOL! While I was writing this chapter in WPS Office and copy-pasted it in Wattpad, I was totally shocked that the word count reached a total of 7,000+. So I don't want to post the update in one go, considering the long-ass word count LOL!

So I decide to divide the updates into two chapters instead; consider Chapter 9 as a separate chapter, but also an extension of Chapter 8 (what? Man, I don't even know if that makes sense LOL! But yeah, I hope you guys understand.)

So as the chapter title suggested, and take the story blurb into consideration, I think y'all might have an idea already of what the latest update has in store LOL! xD

ALSO! I would like to thank themonocommittee for featuring a review for this story on their review shop entitled 'The Mono Reviews'.

I also want to thank and dedicate this chapter to Veladino for giving out his thorough and honest thoughts and opinion about this story; your tips are helpful and motivating! He's one of the reviewers in 'The mono reviews' btw and is also a fellow writer who has a special interest in science fiction. You can check his story out in his profile; it's titled 'Paradox'.

To anyone out there who wants to get an honest review about their work and improve on their writing skills, you can visit the mono reviews free and anytime!

Link for the shop is right below!

👇

https://my.w.tt/oTXpPviGN8

So, that's it for now. Feel free to leave a push on that shiny star icon and comment to let me know what your thoughts and feedbacks are to the story so far; It'd really be heartwarmingly appreciated! <3

I'll post the date for the next update in my message board anytime within the next week, so heads up!

Enjoy reading and have a safe day y'all! <3

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CHAPTER 8: The Mysterious Girl

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Samara's feet made haste for the stairs, her eyes focused out front, not daring to look back. When the lights had inexplicably blacked out, plus the fact that her attacker was waiting by the entrance, her first thought in mind was to retrieve her phone that she, to her regret upon her realization, had left from her sickroom; it was rather the only means of calling for help.

With the telephone from the nurse's desk tampered and the masked stranger blocking her only exit, Samara's decision of getting her cellphone was the easiest course of action to take in her current situation.

She ascended up the stairs, nearly crawling so as to navigate her way through the darkness. Her surroundings did not end up being better than she thought; the upper floors were all completely windowless and therefore, rendered the halls flooded with no source of lighting. Either she would have to walk her way blindly through the paper-black darkness or turn back.

By the time she got to the second floor, she heard the echoing 'click' coming from the twin doors downstairs. Her mind rose with panic as she proceeded climbing. Samara wasn't about to head back down; she did not waste much time and continued running—half-crawling too—up the stairs leading to the third floor.

She got to the hospital's third unit. Her lungs breathlessly collect for air, her chest tightened; the darkness around her had greatly obscured her line of vision. She was practically seeing nothing but a blank. Everything she felt previously from her cabin was returning in a moment's notice; much rather worse than the first time. She was basically trapped in a second round of 'Cat and Mouse' with the masked stranger.

She glued herself against the cold, concrete walls, hands outstretched while sliding against the hard surface of the walls, scooting blindly with caution.

Pit-pat! Pit-pat!

Samara could clearly make out the distant sounds of rushing footsteps. With each of that little echo growing louder and louder, she quickened her pace too. Her heart was beating faster due to the immense fear that she felt. All her mind could process was to find her sickroom and get to the safety of it.

With each door she touched, she counted them in her mind. When she counted the last one, Samara did not waste any second to twist the knob open and deliberately threw herself inside the sickroom. She quietly closed the door and locked it.

"Oh, shit..." She mumbled, gasping for air continuously, "oh shit... oh shit..."

She didn't know how many times she kept repeating the same phrase over and over. She never felt this fearful for her life—and she thought her uncle was the worst, but this unknown assailant—a total stranger—trying to catch up on her tail takes the cake; they were deliberately trying with their full willingness to hurt and kill her without any hesitation at all.

When she was able to breathe at a normal pace again, Samara blindly roamed around the vicinity of the sickroom. With the occasional bumping against objects, she was able to locate and retrieve her phone, a short sense of relief rushed over her in the process.

"No signal?! Are you seriously shitting me right now?!" She groaned in frustration upon finding out that her phone does not have a signal.

She turned her cellphone's flashlight on, the light illuminating the cold, dark room. Her eyes peered over to the door across her.

If her phone had no signal to pick up, then she would have to take the riskier choice; she would have to run her way out of the hospital.

"Fuck. No choice."

Samara had no other options to pick from. The only exit to this building was the main entrance. Either she stays inside and go on forever with the waiting game, or make a run for it.

With a gulp, she closed in to the door. Samara pressed her ear against the surface of it, listening intently in silence. When she was sure that the coast was clear, she twisted the doorknob and gave it a careful pull.

Her eyes peeked from left to right, and when there was no sign of the masked stranger nearby, she went out of her sickroom stealthily.

Her breathing was short and hushed, careful not to let out a sound of exhaling air interrupt the deafening silence, in fear that her attacker might hear it. Her hands were shuddering from the dread she felt.

Even with the suffocating feeling on her chest and arms, she moved forward, making her way toward a corner that will lead her to the stairs.

And by the time she neared her desired destination, there was already another company hiding from the other side of the corner, ready to surprise her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Her eyes fluttered open like a butterfly's pair of colorful wings. Before she could even have a chance to lift her head up, a bothersome sensation throbbed from the back of her skull, causing her to lay back down. Her mind felt like it was spinning, her eyes squeezed shut, fighting back the pain with constant, hushed wails.

When she was sure that her head was in good shape, she carefully opened her eyes again. The first thing her sight had caught was the illuminating, blue light from her right side nearby.

Her head tilted, spotting a portable night light sitting on top of a bedside table; the crescent moon glowed its lunar light amidst the dark.

"Where-where am I?" She wondered out loud.

Confused and anxious, she got out of her bed. She let out a pained gasp, suddenly feeling a strange, blunt pain from all around her body—like she was being hit repeatedly with a hard object.

She sat back down onto the bed to let the writhing ache subside. She examined herself, realizing that she was wearing nothing but only a hospital gown and clean undergarments.

When she felt the strength to move her body again, she carefully stood up. Despite the throbbing pain from her muscles returning, she paced around the room, eyes traveling among the details of her surroundings. When her eyes spotted a single, tall, mirror hung up on one of the four walls of her environment, she approached it with feeble steps.

Despite the dominance of the darkness around her, she could fairly see a view of her complexion.

Her short, straight, jet-black hair remained kept and neat; one side of it, judging how it looks, was recently buzzed neat and was extremely short therefore, while the other side looked fairly medium and trimmed in length; her side bangs covered one of her eyes partially.

She brushed some strands of off of her eye and just stood there, awkwardly staring at her hair in an asymmetrical pixie cut style.

"Who am I?" She genuinely wondered, thoroughly studying the fair features among her small figure.

Her pair of doll-like eyes had a natural, dark color to it. Her hands admirably touched her small, pointed nose, stroking it once with a finger. Her pair of small, soft lips remained agape, her evenly, thick eyebrows crooked in support for the overall bewilderment across her face.

"Who am I? What am I doing here? What is going on?" She pondered on and on, her hands touching her face in awe.

Her face had apparent signs of recent injuries. Her right cheek had a tiny pad of cotton taped evenly to it. Her forehead had a stitch too, concealed with a clean, gauze pad. The lower section of her right arm was rolled up with bandages; the same case to one of her bare ankles.

The longer she stared upon her reflection, the bigger this strange feeling intensified. This quaint feeling that she, herself, recognized 'this girl' in front of the mirror, led her mind into puzzlement; it was —should it ever make clear sense—as if seeing herself felt unusually familiar.

She knew who she was yet, she couldn't.

Her little moment was interrupted when her eyes caught a glimpse of a mobile device sitting on top of a bedside table where the night light stood. She turned around with curiosity peaking, and she soon found herself approaching the table, interacting with the device on her hand.

"What...?"

When she pressed the power button, the phone lit up. Her sight squinted a little from the brightness, and she found herself staring back at a photo of a girl on the lock screen.

"This is me...?!" She whispered, unsettled by the mere presence of her image in the phone that, for now at this point, presumably belonged to her.

Her eyes traveled upon the phone clock that read '11:07 PM'. Just underneath the time, her eyes deciphered a name typewritten with decently, small font size.

"Amanda Hasner?"

her eyes looked into nothing but empty air as her mind progressively processed the new information she had achieved.

"I'm Amanda Hasner?"

This abnormal sense of familiarity intensified as she dug deep into her newfound realization; she could, for an ample part at the least, recall having that name. She was uncertain, however. And as weird as it was, the name—her name rather—felt close to hit home.

"I'm Amanda, right... right..." she trailed off, "but where am I and what am I doing here?"

As fulfilling as it felt to eventually found out her real name, finding answers to her current circumstance was a different thing. She didn't know how she ended up in what seemed to be a hospital room, unfortunately. However, she didn't want to stay in a cold, dark, place for any longer, and so she decided to leave the sickroom.

She turned her phone's flashlight open, the strong beam of light illuminated the paper-black darkness surrounding her.

She got out of the room, head still feeling oddly fuzzy. The same pitch-black shade of light-less surroundings greeted her as she wandered her eyes around. She limped her way through the dark, holding nothing but her phone's flashlight while ignoring the throb around her body.

It was quiet—perhaps a little too quiet for her comfort. The vibe around the air was seemingly off, or at least that's how it was for her; it was as if her mind was warning her of something inexplicable. She tried to brush off the feeling, not wanting to be bothered.

As she passed from door to door, her nose suddenly caught the smell of something foul. The stench was coming from the last door that she had just passed by. Indeed, Amanda knew enough what the terrible odor of carcass smelled like. She can't be wrong with what she was thinking—what she was dreading.

With a gulp and a shaky breath, Amanda pushed the door open with sluggish force. Her forehead scrunched in disgust, her nose catching the same, agonizing stench, only a lot stronger than it was beforr. Her guts could barely fight back the foul scent of flesh; her stomach churned from the nausea. However, her curiosity got her the better, and she still decided to enter anyway.

"Oh my...!"

Her eyes grew wide in full circles, looking away immediately from the horrifying sight in front of her. She covered her mouth to prevent a petrified scream from coming out. Her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, and despite not wanting to look at the bloody mess in front of her no more, she still found herself doing the exact opposite.

What was supposed to be a normal hospital room coated in heavenly coloration was now completely replaced with nothing but hellish crimson red. The once-white shades running along the soft hospital bed was now nothing but a messy color of crimson. The chilling sight of blood was splattered among the walls and ceilings too, coating the room completely in a gut-wrenching mess.

And just to add the final touch to it, a mutilated corpse lied on top of the bed. Their stomach was brutally carved open, their organs were strewn across the floor—liver, intestines—every organ that could normally be found inside a human body were all sprawled around like a bunch of children's toys left on the floor.

It was as if some sort of wild animal had ripped its way through the corpse's abdomen to look for its dinner. However, this gruesome sight wasn't the handiwork of a vicious animal, and Amanda was sure to herself that whoever was responsible for this innocent human's murder was still roaming around here—in the same hospital grounds that she was in.

Amanda scrambled herself out of the room, took deep breaths, and rest her back against the wall for a moment. She tried her best to stifle the urge to burst out in tears. She felt scared—helpless. She didn't want to stay to her spot any longer. One more second, and she might throw up.

She proceeded forward, trying hard to forget what her eyes have had seen not a while ago.

She was nearing to a corner until she stopped mid-step.

Pit-pat. Pit-pat.

The pure silence of her environment was replaced with a faint sound of what seemed to be like feet pacing against the floor.

Amanda felt the rush of dread loomed over her again. This prompted her to position her body against the wall. Her mind was racing with multiple thoughts that she couldn't comprehend clearly due to sheer panic. Her heart felt like it was pounding louder than a bomb exploding; beating seemingly faster than a flash of bolt. Her breath was caught in a hitch that she didn't notice before; she didn't want to release another breath in fear of being heard of whoever might be on the other side of the corner.

As the footsteps rounded at the spot where Amanda was hiding, she took the opportunity to pounce on the mystery person.

And her instincts proved her right once she found herself clashing against a human figure.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Argh!"

Samara roared a grunt, taken by surprise when an unknown individual tackled her onto the floor.

She landed against her back, hitting the cold floor. She winced upon the blunt force hitting the muscles from her back area, the excruciating pain worsened than it already was.

Despite that, she did not stop wrestling against whoever was on top of her. It was like a battle between two, fierce, animal in the wilderness; it was messy, but Samara did not bother about it. She didn't give a damn if she and her assailant kept thrashing and kicking from all over the place. Even though Samara's injuries brought difficulty for her to defend herself properly, she did not back down.

Once she felt an opportunity coming in, Samara arched her knee upward with force, causing her mysterious attacker to flinch in reaction. She felt the pressure from above her lighting up, and so she took this advantage by kicking the attacker away.

The pressure she felt once had now completely disappeared like a mist. Samara scrambled up to her feet, picking up her still-lit phone flashlight. She shone the beam of brightness to the unknown individual's direction.

"Agh...!"

She heard a soft, voice from her assailant. Her bewildered eyes gazed upon a girl, roughly in the same age as her, writhing on the floor. When Samara felt that the girl was, in no way, an actual threat, she lowered her guard down and approached the latter.

"Jesus, are you okay?" Samara asked with concern, helping the girl properly stood up to her feet, "may I ask by the way? What flipping shit made you jump on me?" She immediately interrogated after.

"Sorry..." The girl apologized, still rubbing the part of her abdomen where Samara's kick had connected. "I-I thought you were someone who's gonna attack me or something..."

Samara chuckled incredulously. "For someone who tackled me first," the young brunette shook her head in amusement before continuing, "seriously, pixie cut? What kind of shit you were smoking to make you jump on me?"

"You would've done the same thing if you literally felt alone in a dark and abandoned place like this, wouldn't you?" The girl snapped back.

Despite that, Samara did not take offense of it.

"Who the hell are you, by the way?"

"A-Amanda," the girl answered softly, leaning her head down in nervousness. "I don't know why I'm here."

"Well, you're a patient in a hospital, obviously. Isn't that how hospitals and hospital patients were supposed to work?"

"I know what a hospital is. It's just that—argh...!"

The girl released a whimper, placing a hand over her abdomen again.

"Jeez. My bad for the kick," the young brunette apologized, "I mean, had you not tried to attack me though, but, whatever..."

"I-it's okay."

"Anyway, what were you saying?"

"I was about to tell you... that I don't remember how I got here in the first place."

Samara stared at the girl named 'Amanda' without a word, mouth agape, along with her blue eyes blinking a couple of times; her mind tried to process the small piece of information that she had just received from the latter.

"You're joking...?" The young brunette deadpanned.

"I'm serious," Amanda insidted, "I don't know why I ended up here nor why I was even confined here in the first place..."

Samara was dumbfounded by Amanda's reply.

Judging the small gal's appearance and vibe, it was as if she was not a commoner around town—a foreign one. It seemed, to Samara, that Amanda doesn't live around anywhere in Amberlyn. In fact, she does not recognize this girl before—never in her life.

"I-I just want to get out of here. Someone was killed. I don't want to be around here any longer."

Samara could see the anxiety within the girl's eyes. As much as she was annoyed and mystified with Amanda right now, she needed to bring the latter along with her. After all, despite being the more capable between them, Samara herself was just as scared as Amanda was.

"Come with me," she ushered the girl once she started pacing forward. She then shone her light ahead of them. "Just stick close, don't stray far, stay sharp, and don't be dumb, got it?"

The young brunette felt like her last instruction was unnecessary to say to a complete stranger, but Amanda seemed to not mind of it; she was silent all throughout.

The two girls navigated their way down the stairs and around the dark hallway once again, quiet and wary of their surroundings. Samara never spoke a word nor did she tried to start a conversation with Amanda, and vice versa; it was better that way.

They stayed like that—just roaming quietly, trying to find the next set of stairs. When she spotted their desired destination, Samara let out a sigh of relief.

"Amanda, what the hell..."

She felt Amanda's grip from her hand tightened, almost to the point of squeezing her tendons suffocatingly. Her forehead crooked in irritation, feeling the small gal not moving from her position.

"Sshh," she heard Amanda shushed, "do you hear that?"

Scrape. Scrape.

Those chill-inducing, sounds came to return. Samara suddenly found herself not able to move a muscle. She wanted to release her breath, but she can't. It was as if some sort of cold grip kept her mouth shut. Her throat felt sickly dry, just the same case as to her mouth. She could hear her heart pumping—not normally, however.

"Argh!"

The next thing or two happened so quickly that Samara was not even able to prepare herself for it.

An unknown force propelled itself toward her. She found herself getting tackled to the floor yet again, landing to her side this time around.

A looming figure seized Samara, got on top of her, pressed their knees real hard against her stomach, and began wrapping their death grip around her neck.

She was struggling against her attacker; kicking and kicking despite her airway becoming tighter and tighter. Her eyeballs felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets, and her breath was diminishing slowly and painfully. Her situation was deja vu all over. She didn't want to die, and she kept kicking, but her feet started to feel soft and weak as jelly. Is this going to be her end?

"Get off of her!"

The pressure around her neck suddenly loosened up, along with the weight that was firmly pressed against her abdomen. Samara found herself gasping for air with wide eyes. She couldn't process what was going on; she was too wrapped up in stealing quick, short, breaths.

When she got back to her senses, Samara glanced over at the scuffle that was occuring from behind her.

"Urgh!"

Samara grabbed her phone that was lying somewhere on the floor. She shone her flashlight to the direction of the ensuing struggle. Her mouth dropped open, eyebrows seriously crooked as she spotted Amanda fighting with the same, masked stranger that was terrorizing her all night.

Amanda was clinging onto the stranger's back, digging her nails against their neck. The stranger kept thrashing and moving; staggering and crashing themself against the walls as means to strike Amanda with repeated offense.

"Urgh!" the small gal exclaimed, her body collapsed onto the floor after the stranger crushed her small body against the wall yet again.

The stranger loomed over a weakened Amanda. They pulled out their hatchet from their hip holster, brandished the blade, and began raising their arm up in the sky, ready to swing their weapon down at the defenseless girl.

With a sharp movement, Samara scrambled up to her feet and dashed toward the stranger. She raised her elbow up and sent it crashing against the attacker's back, clashing with them.

"Aahh! Fuck!!"

Samara collided with the stranger, ending up on the floor as a result. Her entire arm felt excruciatingly numb, the agonizing pain coming from a struck nerve from the elbow area caused by the blunt force that she did.

"Fuck!! Argh!!" The young brunette wailed, her free hand gripping tight against her other numbed arm that kept stinging with excruciating pain.

Pit-pat! Pit-pat!

She heard the sounds of feet pit-patting to her spot. The next thing she realized, Amanda was helping her back up.

"Come on!" The small gal exclaimed, "we have to keep moving!"

She found herself running—limping with Amanda through the dark halls with haste. She could feel the physical pain around her body, most especially from the neck and affected arm. Her throat pricked, and she didn't want to speak so as to not worsen its condition. She couldn't move her numb arm freely, the agonizing sensation was still yet to subside. She could notice Amanda was under just as much physical hurt as her—or even a lot more severe, judging from the struggling expression across her small face. But their beat-up bodies were the least of Samara's concern; survival was the only thing imprinted in her mind. She had to get out of the hospital with this mysterious girl. Alive.

Both of them kept running and running, their phone flashlights dancing wildly through the dark. Their panicky breaths echoed from each step they took, and their feet continuously carried them like there was no tomorrow.

Samara stole a glance over her shoulder, her breath coming in and out thrice the speed when her peripheral vision caught the glimpse of their assailant's silhouette close behind.

"Holy fuck! Keep running!" She hollered, her feet pacing faster and faster as if her life depends on it.

Samara was getting ahead of Amanda. In reaction, she pulled the small gal along with her, primarily leading the way for both of them. Her ears could make out those fear-inducing pitter-patter sounds of heavy footsteps from behind them. The stranger was giving chase and was, in no way, going to let them escape. Samara exerted more speed in her running, not giving an ounce of a damn if she was dragging the small gal along.

The two girls went for the last flight of stairs that will lead them down to the ground floor, rapidly descending in quick, uneven steps. They were breathless, but that didn't stop them from going; there was no time to compete with their conditions.

"The main entrance!"

"Just keep fucking running!"

Samara's eyes could make out the moonlight shining through those twin, glass doors. Her heart beat faster, bare feet trudging along the cold floor. She was going to make a charge for it.

The duo burst out of the glass doors. The cool, ghost town air greeted them first, brushing past their faces, eyes locked forward to the sight of people in similar mocha-brown police attire drawing their weapons to their direction.

The two girls raised their hands up in the air, their eyes caught sight of Dane among the small crowd.

"Move it!" Commanded the young cop.

When the troop of police brushed past Samara and Amanda and into the hospital, they let out their relief.

The sense of safety gradually loomed over them. Tired and physically drained, both girls felt confident enough to finally let their guard down in one piece.