The Nurse’s Deception

GRANDPA’S NURSE CALLED ME ‘SARAH’ AND SAID, “YOUR DAD IS HERE.”

I was staring at the IV drip, trying to make sense of the new charts, when the nurse walked in with a clipboard.

She held a clipboard and a syringe, her smile unwavering, almost predatory in the sterile white room. “Sarah,” she said, her voice too calm for a hospital, “your father’s been asking for you. He’s outside, waiting.”

My stomach dropped, an icy dread spreading through me like ink in water. “There must be some mistake,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper in the echoing quiet of the room. “My dad passed away years ago. And my name isn’t Sarah. You have the wrong patient file.”

Her eyes narrowed, the blue surgical mask barely hiding a smirk that twisted her lips. “Oh, *that* father,” she chuckled, a cold, unnatural sound that made the fine hairs on my arm stand up. “No, honey, *this* one is very much alive and wants to see you now. He’s waited a long time.”

I felt a sudden, sharp prickle on my forearm, like a wasp sting, and looked down to see a tiny needle withdrawing. The sharp, metallic tang of disinfectant suddenly overwhelmed me, making my head spin. “What was that?” I demanded, trying to pull my arm away.

She simply held my arm firm, her grip surprisingly strong, her smile growing wider. My vision blurred at the edges, the bright overhead lights turning into hazy halos. The room started to tilt, and the floor felt strangely soft beneath my feet.

Just as I started to fall, a man stepped in, and whispered, “It’s finally time now.”

👇 Full story continued in the comments…My legs buckled, and I would have collapsed completely if the nurse hadn’t gently guided me towards the door. The last thing I saw before the world dissolved into darkness was the glint of something metallic reflecting the cold fluorescent light in the hallway.

I woke up with a throbbing headache, bound to a chair in a dimly lit room. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and something else, something metallic and sickly sweet, like overripe fruit. My hands and feet were tightly secured with thick leather straps. Panic clawed at my throat, making it hard to breathe.

The nurse, still wearing her unsettlingly calm smile, stood before me. She set the syringe down on a nearby table, next to a tray of surgical instruments that gleamed ominously under the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

“Welcome back, Sarah,” she purred. “He’s been eager to see you.”

“Where am I? What’s going on?” I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper.

The nurse chuckled, the sound still sending shivers down my spine. “Patience, dear. All in good time. Your father will explain everything.”

She walked towards a heavy, metal door in the corner of the room and opened it. “Come in, he’s waiting.” She said to someone, who was out of my view.

A moment later, a man emerged from the shadows. He was tall and gaunt, with a shock of white hair and eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. He wasn’t my father, not the one who had raised me. But, he had the same eyes as my father, the same sharp features I had inherited. He walked over with a slow and deliberate pace.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, Sarah?” His voice was a low rumble, and I could hear a tinge of longing.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I managed to stammer out, my voice trembling.

He stopped in front of me, his expression unreadable. “I am your father. Well, *a* father, one you never knew. The one that made you who you are.”

He reached out a hand, slowly, and gently touched my cheek. The gesture, though unsettling, felt strangely familiar. A flicker of recognition, a ghost of a memory, surfaced from somewhere deep within me. It was as if my body knew him, even if my mind didn’t.

He continued, “You were meant for more. A legacy. That’s what I hoped to get out of you. With my… research,” he paused and glanced at the nurse, “Your mother and I created something special, something beyond the scope of anything mankind has ever done.”

Suddenly, the nurse appeared beside him and gave him a needle. He took it and walked toward me, “Now, it is time for your true purpose,” he said.

A wave of pure terror washed over me as he raised the syringe. But at that moment, a loud crash echoed from the hallway. The lights flickered and died, plunging the room into near darkness.

“What was that?!” The nurse yelled.

Suddenly, the heavy metal door burst open, and a figure rushed in, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway. It was a man, tall and strong, wearing the same familiar features I remembered. He carried a crowbar, swinging it with a force that sent the nurse sprawling.

“Run, Sarah!” my father yelled.

He lunged at the other man, a furious battle breaking out in the sudden dark. While the nurse was getting up and running to grab the syringe, I used all the strength I could muster and finally ripped my hands from the leather straps. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the throbbing in my head, and sprinted for the door.

I didn’t look back. I didn’t know what they were doing or why they wanted me, but I knew I had to escape. I ran, adrenaline coursing through my veins, driven by a desperate need to survive.

I ran into the hallway, where I saw a man knocked out and a hospital worker helping him up. He saw me and told me to leave and that he would call the police. And as I ran out the hospital, I knew I would never be the same.