THE WOLFS PREY
Chapter 6: Something Off
Ana POV…
The night was cool, but there was nothing inviting about it—at least not for someone like me, someone who's going to die soon. I had just woken from a long, drugged slumber only to realize I was still trapped in this goddamn hospital.
The doctor did a great job putting me to sleep for hours, but he's definitely not winning a Headies Award for it.
I scanned the room with my eyes, searching for Eva. I needed to be sure she was completely gone before I could execute my plan. After minutes of searching without catching even a glimpse of her, I took a deep breath.
As for the healthcare personnel—those who would no doubt try to stop me from leaving—they were all asleep. They couldn't stop me from claiming the freedom I deserve.
Like I told the doctor earlier, "I'll kill myself before this sickness does." He must have thought I was joking when I said that, but he should've known better. A psycho is always serious. And this… this is my best chance to go see my family.
Without hesitation, I tossed aside the white bedsheet covering me. As I pulled it across my face, the hospital smell filled my nostrils and made me sneeze. Is this what's been covering me all this while?
The moment my toes touched the cold hospital floor, a chill shot up my spine, making me shiver. I quickly slipped on my slippers and got out of bed.
Of course, I was careful not to make a single sound. I couldn't risk anyone interrupting my peaceful escape. When I reached the door, I slowly cracked it open—but then I paused.
Even if I managed to get past the doctors and nurses, I wouldn't be able to slip past the guards wearing this ugly hospital gown still clinging to me like a little child clutching their mother's leg, begging to go outside with her.
I had to do something—but what? Time was running out, and any moment now, a doctor or nurse might check in on me. What do I do now?
I thought hard for a few seconds… and then it hit me. How could I forget? I came in here wearing my own clothes! Now, I just needed to find them, put them on, and get out of this place.
I rushed to the bed and searched around it—under it, beside it—but found nothing. Did Eva take it home with her? Gosh, what do I do now? I thought for a moment before my eyes landed on the brown wardrobe, not far from my bed.
Without a second thought, I dashed toward it and flung the door open. And there it was—the almighty outfit I had been searching for. My one and only savior. I threw it on immediately and slipped out of the ward.
My steps through the hospital were slow and calculated. And when I finally walked out of the building, I couldn't believe it—I was free. It felt like a miracle. Like a dream come true.
The security guards were sharp; they nearly caught me when they asked for some documents. But I was sharper. I tricked them—somehow—and escaped that horrible place.
I walked through the streets of America like a wandering ghost. People stared. Their eyes pierced through me, but I didn't care. Maybe they were staring because I looked like a total mess. My hair was wild, scattered across my face. My clothes were wrinkled and torn in places from the rush back in the hospital. And my slippers? A complete mismatch—only a lunatic would wear bathroom slippers out on the street. But I didn't care. I was focused on the mission. Their useless stares wouldn't stop me.
But one stare did get to me—the piercing gaze of a young man. I snapped. "Can't you just mind your business and stop staring at me?" I shouted, stepping toward him. I saw the fear in his eyes as he backed away.
"What's wrong with her?" I heard some people whisper as they watched. I suddenly felt exposed and stupid.
I dashed away, hurrying toward the bridge. I couldn't take their stares and murmurs anymore; they were eating me alive.
When I finally reached the bridge, I took in a deep breath. A smile crossed my lips as the cold wind swept across my face, tossing my hair even more wildly. But I was happy. I felt like the ocean below was welcoming me back. It was proud of my return—to finish what I once started.
"Hello, buddy," I said to the water. "I've never met a lunatic so happy to die and I am that lunatic."
I stepped closer to the edge. I couldn't wait. The anticipation was overwhelming. Finally, it was time. Time to end it all before the sickness did.
I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. "It is time," I whispered with a smile.
But just as I prepared to leap, a sudden gust of wind swept through me—so powerful it spun me around.
And then I felt it—that familiar presence I couldn't forget. Slowly, an image formed before me. As my eyes focused, I realized I wasn't wrong.
It was him. Angel—the man who saved me the first time.
But something about him was off.
Something wasn't right.