White light.
Too clean. Too sterile. The hum of machines.
Lee blinked. A ceiling full of fluorescent panels stared back at him. His body was tucked under starched sheets. Medical wires were taped to his arms, and a heartbeat monitor beeped rhythmically beside him.
He was in the hospital.
His head throbbed with a dull ache. His mouth was dry. The metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue.
I bit her.
He remembered the look in Natasha's eyes - the fear, the betrayal - right before everything went blurry. There were sirens. Flashing lights spun through his mind. The taxi driver was shouting. Someone must've called emergency services.
Now he was here.
Lee sat up, wincing as he moved.
Across the room, he saw a doctor watching him. Not with concern, but curiosity. He was writing something on a clipboard.
What's he doing?
Through a narrow glass pane into the next room across the corridor, Lee spotted Natasha. She lay on her back, her right hand bandaged, speaking quietly with a nurse. Her face was pale, with red-rimmed eyes.
Had she been crying?
Lee glanced down at his hands. They were clean. The nurses must've washed him. More strikingly, his skin looked healthier. Stronger. The missing fingernails? Thin, pale layers were pushing through like nothing had happened. They were healing already.
The doctor with the clipboard stepped closer.
"Hello, Lee. It's good to see you're awake."
Lee croaked out a response.
"Am-... Am I in a hospital?"
"That's right. You're at St. Aldwyn's Medical, South London. You were brought in a little over four hours ago. My name's Dr. Alade."
Dr. Alade flipped through a few pages on his clipboard.
"I have to say, Lee… your bloodwork is unlike anything I've ever seen."
Lee stayed quiet.
The doctor's tone shifted, sharper now, more probing.
"Can you tell me where you've been?"
Lee shook his head.
"I don't… I don't remember."
"I see… You bit the woman who tried to help you. Mrs. Palmer. Do you recall that?"
Shame rose like bile in his throat. Lee nodded.
I do.
The doctor studied him for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he scribbled something onto his clipboard with slow, deliberate strokes.
"I think it's only fair that you know, Lee. You were considered clinically dead when the paramedics found you."
Lee's blood turned cold.
"Flatlined. No respiration. For seventeen full minutes."
"Dead?"
"Yes… In the backseat of a taxi, you passed away. And then, somewhere between the ambulance doors and A&E… you came back. You should be in critical condition. Organ failure. Neurological collapse. But your vitals? They're stable. Strong, even."
Dr. Alade paused, something like fascination creeping into his voice.
"Your blood is… different."
He cleared his throat.
"What happened today is unprecedented. We've classified this as a black swan event. The Home Office has requested to send someone in."
Lee blinked.
"Sorry, I'm confused. What do you mean by a black swan event? Who is coming?"
"When something unpredictable happens that has the potential for severe consequences, it's labeled as a black swan. It's something no one sees coming - and something that only really makes sense after it's happened."
He flipped another page on his clipboard.
"Your blood samples. Your situation… coming back from death after such a long time, with no signs of brain damage. It doesn't happen. Ever. There is no model for it. And because of this, MI5 is sending a representative to discuss with you and Mrs. Palmer first thing tomorrow."
He let that hang in the air for a beat before continuing.
"In the meantime, I'll be monitoring your condition personally. For your safety - and everyone else's - we've stationed two police officers outside your door."
His voice grew firmer.
"Please… don't try to leave. Understood?"
Lee nodded, but his eyes drifted toward the window. Toward Natasha.
"Is she going to be okay?"
The doctor also glanced at the room across the corridor.
"She's not well. They've started her on antibiotics and antivirals. She's under close observation because of the bite wound."
Lee noticed Natasha was paler and more fragile than before. Guilt settled on his conscience.
"I didn't mean to, I just-..."
The doctor held up a hand, cutting him off.
"I understand. For now, our focus is on her recovery."
***
Later that evening, the hospital ward was a lot quieter.
Visiting hours were over. Most of the lights in the corridor had been dimmed. Outside, London breathed faintly. Distant sirens, the hush of tires on wet roads, the occasional rumble of a train.
Lee sat upright on his bed.
Dr. Alade had left an hour ago, and Lee hadn't spoken to anyone since.
Natasha slept across the hall. Her bandaged hand was carefully propped on a pillow. A nurse slipped into her room quietly, checked her vitals, then dimmed the lights further.
Her bedside monitor beeped in a slow, steady rhythm.
The nurse left.
And then -
There was a long pause. Too long.
Lee leaned toward the window without leaving his bed, drawn by some instinct he didn't understand.
Natasha suddenly twitched beneath the blanket. Her breathing hitched.
Then, with unnatural sharpness, she sat up.
Her head turned toward the window, and her eyes opened.
Dark. Glassy. Glinting with the corridor light in a way that felt off, like staring into polished stone.
Not awake. Not asleep. Not her.
She locked eyes with Lee. No recognition. Just a cold, unwavering stare.
Lee froze.
His chest tightened, breath caught halfway between inhale and scream.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
The heartbeat monitor shrieked.
In disbelief, Lee spoke to no one but himself.
"...What the fuck."
A shadow moved across the corridor. One of the police officers had rushed to Natasha's door.
"Dan! Go find a nurse!"
She barked, shoving the door open.
Lee heard the scuff of boots as Dan turned and sprinted down the hallway.
The remaining officer stepped cautiously inside.
Natasha was upright on the bed, eyes still locked on the window. Silent.
"Mrs. Palmer? Are you alright?"
She asked, approaching her, one hand hovering near the radio on her vest.
"I'm Officer Bennett."
But Natasha didn't answer.
Officer Bennett took another step closer.
"Mrs…?"
Natasha lunged. Inhumanely fast. No warning. The cables and wires plucking from her, one after another.
Bennett had no time to react. Natasha's hands clamped onto her shoulders, and her teeth sank into the soft flesh of the officer's throat.
Blood sprayed across the glass.
Bennett's legs kicked as she hit the floor, gurgling, eyes wide with shock.
Natasha didn't stop there.
She dropped to her knees over the dying officer, straddling her like prey, growling like an animal. Her mouth worked violently, rendering meat with sickening, wet crunches. Blood spread fast, pooling across the linoleum, turning her hospital gown into a canvas of red.
Lee stared in horror. From his bed, he couldn't see everything - only hideous glimpses.
He wanted to yell, to move, to do something. But he couldn't. His muscles were locked.
The sounds were worse than what little he could discern. Bones cracking, cartilage tearing.
Officer Bennett's body spasmed, then went still.
Natasha fed. Frenzied. Starving. She wasn't human.
The door swung open hard.
"Laura? What's going-"
Officer Dan Hodgkinson froze mid-step. The nurse he'd fetched skidded to a halt behind him.
Blood. Everywhere.
Bennett's body lay twisted on the floor, her throat a gaping ruin. And Natasha. She crouched over the corpse, face slick with gore, teeth crimson and bared.
Dan reached for his radio.
Too late.
Natasha moved in a blur - two strides and she was on him. Her hands slammed into Dan's chest like a truck, hurling him backward through the doorway. He crashed against the nurse behind him, sending them both sprawling to the floor.
Dan struck the ground hard; the air punched from his lungs.
Then Natasha was on him.
Claws. Teeth. Screams.
The nurse scrambled forward on hands and knees, crawling into the room, heading toward the panic button near Natasha's bed.
She glanced back. The woman was still on Dan, tearing into him, every movement savage and wild.
"Oh my fucking God!"
She stepped over Bennett's lifeless body, heart pounding, fingers stretching for the red emergency switch.
Then something clamped around her ankle and yanked her.
Bennett.
Eyes black and dilated. A gaping, ragged wound where her throat had been.
A guttural snarl rumbled up from what was left of her neck as she dragged the nurse down, lips peeling back to reveal bloodied teeth.
She bit her ankle. Hard.
The nurse screeched, but it was short-lived.
Bennett was soon mounted on top of her. Growling. Ripping. Feeding.
Only the wet, grisly sound of chewing remained.
No alarms, no more shouting.
Lee stayed frozen in his bed.
What the fuck is happening!?
A whole minute dragged. Then - movement.
Silhouettes staggered into view in the corridor. One. Two. Three… Four.
Natasha. Officer Bennett. Officer Hodgkinson. The nurse.
They moved with unnatural stiffness, limbs jerking with every step like marionettes with tangled strings. Their faces were slack, eyes black and vacant, mouths smeared with each other's blood.
Through the glass, Natasha's bottomless eyes found Lee again.
Her blood-slicked hand latched onto the door handle of Lee's room.
It creaked open.
Lee shrank back instinctively, his heart hammering.
But they didn't rush in. The four figures stood silently in the doorway. Natasha was at the front, gore dried on her face like war paint. The others shambled behind her, jawed daze, heads tilted, as if waiting for something.
Then Natasha stepped in.
Her bare feet made no sound. She crossed the room slowly, never breaking eye contact with Lee.
Lee pressed back against the headboard, his throat dry. He was preparing to accept his fate.
"Natasha…"
She paused at the foot of the bed. She whispered.
"I feel it."
The voice was raspy, but unmistakably hers.
Lee glanced at the three others in the hall. They swayed gently back and forth, not moving. He turned back to Natasha.
"The pull. It's inside me now, like a thread. I can feel it winding through us. All of us."
She pivoted, gesturing toward the doorway with a faint motion of her hand. The three outside twitched in response - just once, barely perceptible - but enough to chill Lee to the bone.
"They're not like me. They don't remember. They don't think. But they listen… to you. To me. To us."
Natasha looked back over her shoulder. Her lips parted in something like a smile, though it never reached her eyes.
"Consume them."
Lee churned.
"W-... what do you mean?"
She tilted her head.
"You are hungry. I know it. That emptiness, gnawing at the edges."
A slow dread crept through him as he noticed the aching in his stomach.
Natasha's right.
Since arriving in the hospital, he'd eaten two sandwiches and a bag of tortilla chips. That was barely two hours ago. He should still feel quenched, but it barely touched the sides.
"Their meat will satiate you."
"No… I'm not like you. Or them."
Lee swallowed a nervous lump. Natasha stepped closer.
"You're not like us... You're greater."
Her voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. There was no malice in it - just her truth, delivered cold.
She gestured towards the doorway. The three shambling creatures obeyed, drifting into Lee's room like sleepwalkers.
"The pull… Your blood is calling for more. These corpses are an offering. From me. They will help."
The ember inside him surged, brighter this time. That same sensation he'd felt when he bit Natasha. The warmth of flesh, the rush beneath the skin - it stirred something in him. It wasn't just hunger. It was a need.
His fingers twitched against the bed sheet. His jaw clenched. Every nerve in his body hummed with tension, like he was teetering on the edge of something irreversible.
And then he moved.
Not by choice. Something compelled him, lifted him, drew him to his feet as though he were possessed.
The three undead stood motionless, waiting.
Lee's breathing hastened. The thrum in his chest wasn't fear - it was anticipation.
"What's happening to me?"
Natasha took a slow step back, giving him space.
"You're waking up."
She nodded toward the nearest corpse. Officer Hodgkinson.
"Feed, Lee."