You have worked at the hospital long enough to know what is going on...

Added Sanity system, Safe Rooms, Survivor strategies, Trust system, and more!

CONTEXT

This takes place in a giant hospital, not like animal hospital. One patient is brought into the hospital late at night during a thunderstorm. Nobody knows what happened to them. Their body is covered in deep scratches and black veins pulse beneath their skin like something alive is moving inside them. The patient never speaks once during treatment.

By morning, the Doctor that checks up on them is missing.

The hospital enters lockdown shortly afterward.

At first, the infection seems like an extreme sickness. Patients develop violent fevers, aggressive behavior, and severe hallucinations. Some begin attacking walls hard enough to break their own bones. Others scream about “things inside their heads” before collapsing unconscious.

Then the mutations begin.

Bones crack loudly beneath skin. Teeth sharpen and split apart. Fingers elongate into claw-like shapes capable of tearing through metal doors and flesh alike. The infected lose the ability to speak normally, replacing words with distorted growls, shrieks, and broken attempts at human speech.

Worst of all, they stop paying taxes...

Everyone becomes prey.

Intern witnesses the first full transformation inside Recovery Ward C. A patient suddenly lunges off their bed and tears into the visitor who game to see them before security can react. The creature moves unnaturally fast across walls and ceilings, breaking its limbs repeatedly just to squeeze through narrow spaces.

After that, the hospital collapses into chaos.

Secret Agent immediately takes control of the surviving staff. He arms himself with scavenged equipment and begins leading groups through maintenance corridors while trying to find a way out. He already knows more about the infection than he admits. Hidden documents inside his bag reveal the hospital had been secretly researching infected organisms recovered from underground tunnels beneath the city.

Something escaped.

Nurse refuses to abandon injured survivors even while the infected spread through every floor of the building. She drags people into barricaded rooms, desperately trying to treat wounds that keep turning black within minutes. Eventually she realizes bites are not the only way the infection spreads.

Blood alone is enough.

Head Nurse seals entire wings of the hospital without warning, trapping both infected and healthy people behind reinforced doors. Some survivors call her cruel.

Others realize she is slowing the outbreak.

But the infected continue evolving.

Some become massive flesh-covered brutes that teleport, like Stalker... Others grow unnaturally thin and crawl through vents silently before dropping onto victims from ceilings. A few retain fragments of memory, using voices and cries for help to lure survivors into dark rooms before attacking.

The hospital becomes a slaughterhouse.

Emergency lights paint the halls red while alarms scream endlessly through the building. Bodies pile across operating rooms and waiting areas. Blood floods down stairwells. Every floor echoes with distorted animalistic noises and the sounds of metal being torn apart somewhere nearby.

Intern slowly begins noticing symptoms in themselves near the end.

Black veins spreading beneath their skin.

Violent coughing.

Hunger that never fades.

They hide it from the others.

Especially Secret Agent.

Because deep below the hospital basement, behind a sealed laboratory door covered in claw marks, Secret Agent finally discovers the truth:

The infection was never accidental.

The hospital created it.

Secret Agent was infected long before the outbreak ever reached the hospital.

He hid it for months.

The infection consumed the entire left side of his body slowly, mutating it instead of fully transforming him. Blackened veins spread from his shoulder down through his arm like roots beneath dead skin. His left hand no longer resembles anything human, having twisted into a living weapon made of hardened flesh, jagged bone growths, and elongated claws sharp enough to carve through metal doors and infected bodies alike.

Sometimes the arm moves on its own.

Twitching.
Reaching.
Flexing like it is alive separately from him.

The infection destroyed his left eye completely. What remains is a darkened, mutated hollow glowing faintly beneath flickering lights. The eye no longer sees normally. Instead, the infection altered his hearing, giving him a form of echolocation through his left ear. Every sound becomes a map inside his mind. Footsteps through distant hallways. Breathing behind walls. Movement crawling through ventilation systems overhead.

He can hear the infected even when nobody else can.

Sometimes he reacts to things before they appear.

The survivors eventually realize Secret Agent always knows when an attack is coming. He hears the creatures moving inside the walls long before they emerge. He knows which hallways to avoid. Which rooms contain infected. Which survivors are beginning to turn.

But the infection inside him is getting worse.

During moments of extreme stress, the mutated side spreads farther across his body. Bone protrusions push beneath skin along his neck and chest. His voice distorts slightly whenever he becomes angry. The claws on his infected arm grow larger after every fight.

And occasionally—

he hears the infected speaking to him.

Not with words.

With understanding.

Like they recognize him as one of their own.

He fights it off, never giving in to the infected.

The Entitys.

Spotter.

A violent anomaly that constantly scans its surroundings with all three glowing eyes independently. It becomes enraged by sudden movement and attacks with brutal speed once it locks onto prey. Survivors describe feeling physically sick after prolonged eye contact with it. Upgraded version of "Eye Monster" Any survivor that comes into contact with it will be turned into mush and just food for it. Can be calmed with eye drops.

Grabber

A ceiling-dwelling anomaly rarely seen directly until it attacks. Long skeletal limbs cling silently above survivors while distorted breathing echoes through vents and hallways. Most victims only notice it moments before being dragged upward into darkness. Upgraded version of "Bed Monster" Nobody knows what happens when you are caught..Can be calmed with maple syrup.

Wall Banger

A massive brute anomaly that endlessly smashes itself against walls and doors until it somehow blends in with the wall perfectly, could change color depending on the color of the wall.. Every impact sounds powerful enough to shake entire sections of the hospital. Survivors usually hear it long before seeing it, though by then escape is often impossible. Upgraded version of, "Wall Monster" When caught, you are then slammed into the wall until your bones get soft enough to eat, becoming food for the monster. Can be stopped with a fire extinguisher.

Skinning

The second-most feared anomaly in the hospital.

Skinwalkers perfectly imitate infected patients or survivors before revealing their true form. Their bodies split apart into twisted flesh and elongated limbs once close enough to attack. Some retain fragments of stolen memories, allowing them to mimic voices, behaviors, and emotions unnervingly well. Once caught, your skin is peeled off, leaving only your flesh, muscles, and bones visible. Becoming a new voice for the monster. Nobody knows how many Skinwalkers are already inside the hospital pretending to be human. Upgraded version of skinwalker anomaly. Can be stopped with a taser or gun.

The Watchwoman...

The Watchman is an evolved form of the Stalker that no longer hunts purely on instinct.

It studies people first.

The creature spends hours silently observing survivors from distant hallways, dark rooms, or behind cracked observation windows before ever attacking. It memorizes routines, escape paths, hiding spots, and even emotional reactions. Many survivors later realize the Watchman had been following them long before they ever noticed it.

Its body mutated into an unnaturally tall and thin shape, with stretched flesh pulled tightly over protruding bones. Its elongated arms drag against the floor while moving, producing a faint scraping noise through quiet hallways. Every joint bends slightly wrong, causing violent jerking movements whenever it changes direction.

Its face is nearly featureless except for an enormous split grin packed with rows of flat human teeth.

Unlike ordinary infected, the Watchman prefers psychological torment over immediate violence.

It intentionally allows itself to be seen.

Survivors frequently spot it standing at the far end of corridors or partially hidden inside dark rooms. Each sighting becomes closer than the last. It wants people exhausted, paranoid, and sleep deprived before finally attacking.

The Watchman also developed advanced mimicry abilities. It perfectly recreates voices, emotional tones, and speech patterns from previous victims. It can imitate wounded survivors begging for help, terrified crying, or even calming reassurances from trusted staff members.

Many people die after following familiar voices into dark sections of the hospital.

Secret Agent is one of the only survivors capable of identifying the mimicry reliably. His infected hearing detects dozens of overlapping whispers hidden beneath the creature’s copied voice.

The Watchman becomes most dangerous during power outages.

Its body unnaturally blends into darkness, making portions of it difficult to perceive directly. Survivors often describe seeing only its grin first before noticing the rest of the creature emerging around it.

When it finally attacks, the Watchman collapses onto all fours and moves with horrifying speed through hallways, vents, and walls. Bones crack violently beneath its body as it chases prey with animalistic movements, often tearing victims apart before dragging remains into hidden sections of the hospital.

But the worst thing about the Watchman is its memory.

It remembers everyone it kills.

It leaves behind personal belongings from victims in places survivors will eventually discover them. Some claim it repeats private conversations nobody else could possibly know. Others believe the creature absorbs fragments of memory from anyone it infects.

Nobody remembers who the Watchman originally was anymore.

Except Secret Agent.

And he refuses to explain why.

ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ!!!

The Camera Monster is one of the strangest anomalies inside Animal Hospital, because it cannot normally be seen.

With the naked eye, there is nothing there.

Hallways appear empty. Rooms look completely normal. Even standing directly in front of the anomaly gives survivors no indication that anything is nearby.

The only way to see it is through a camera.

Any device capable of taking a picture or displaying a camera feed can reveal it. Phones, digital cameras, security monitors, recording equipment, and even certain old hospital cameras can expose its presence.

The moment a survivor looks through a camera lens, the Camera Monster becomes visible.

It appears as a tall, distorted humanoid figure with an unnaturally thin body and elongated limbs. Its entire form looks as though it has been corrupted by a broken photograph, with sections of its body occasionally becoming distorted, stretched, or covered in visual static.

Its head is completely featureless except for a large, black camera lens embedded where its face should be.

The strangest part is that the Camera Monster doesn't appear in the exact same position as it physically is.

Looking through a camera may show it standing several feet behind the survivor.

Looking again may reveal it standing directly beside them.

Looking a third time could show it at the opposite end of the hallway.

The camera isn't simply revealing the monster.

It is showing where the monster is going to be.

The Camera Monster seems to exist partially outside normal perception. It can move through areas without being detected, passing directly beside survivors without making a sound. It cannot be heard approaching, and physical barriers provide little protection against it.

However, cameras appear to anchor it to reality.

Photographing the Camera Monster temporarily forces it into a visible state. For a few seconds after being captured on camera, its physical body becomes partially tangible, allowing survivors to see distorted shadows and faint outlines of it even without a device.

This is the only time it can be directly observed.

The effect doesn't last.

After several seconds, the Camera Monster disappears from normal sight again.

Photographs taken of it are even stranger.

The Camera Monster is always visible in the picture, even if it wasn't visible through the camera when the photograph was taken. Sometimes it appears in the background. Sometimes it's directly behind the photographer. Sometimes the image shows it standing somewhere that wasn't even present when the picture was captured.

Worse...

The photographs don't stay the same.

If someone looks at an old picture again later, the Camera Monster may have moved closer.

The Camera Monster doesn't attack immediately after being discovered. It seems to become interested in whoever sees it through a camera, following them afterward.

This creates a terrifying rule among the survivors:

Never casually point a camera into an empty hallway.

You might discover something that was already standing there.

Ratthew is particularly careful with cameras because of this. Whenever he finds one during supply runs, he checks its battery before using it and never looks through the viewfinder without a reason.

Liz, however, has taken advantage of the anomaly.

Because she carries a camera almost everywhere, she can detect the Camera Monster when everyone else believes the area is safe. She has documented dozens of photographs showing the creature in places nobody remembers seeing it.

Some photographs show it following the survivors.

Some show it standing inside rooms that were supposedly empty.

One photograph shows it standing directly behind Secret Agent.

Secret Agent was completely alone when the photograph was taken.

The Camera Monster's greatest weakness is also its greatest advantage.

It can only be seen through a camera.

So when a survivor suddenly raises their phone and sees a tall figure standing directly behind them...

They have only seconds to turn around.

Because by the time the camera is lowered...

The Camera Monster may already be there.

Slimebert — The Dissolving Horror

Slimebert is not simply an anomaly.

He is a biological nightmare that has no business existing inside Animal Hospital.

Nobody knows what Slimebert originally was. Dr. Harlow's earliest records don't classify him as a patient, employee, experiment, or even an animal.

The oldest file found in Ward Zero contains only three words:

"DO NOT RELEASE."

Slimebert's body is an enormous, constantly shifting mass of translucent, semi-fluid tissue. His shape changes continuously, sometimes resembling a vaguely humanoid figure before collapsing into a crawling pool of slime. His interior is almost impossible to see through. Shapes occasionally move inside him, but nobody has ever determined what they are.

His entire body is corrosive.

Not mildly corrosive.

Slimebert's slime behaves like an extremely aggressive biological acid capable of rapidly breaking down organic and inorganic material. Flesh, bone, clothing, plastic, glass, concrete, and metal can all be damaged by prolonged exposure.

And the more Slimebert consumes...

The more dangerous he becomes.

His corrosion isn't limited to physical contact.

The slime constantly releases a faint acidic vapor. In enclosed areas, breathing it for too long causes irritation, coughing, dizziness, and eventually severe respiratory damage. Survivors who realize Slimebert is nearby are forced to escape quickly instead of simply hiding.

The safest distance from him is constantly changing.

Because Slimebert can throw himself.

His body can suddenly launch enormous portions of itself across a hallway, coating walls, ceilings, and floors with corrosive slime. A survivor who thinks they're safely out of reach can suddenly find a tendril of Slimebert stretching across the entire room toward them.

His reach is unpredictable.

His body can stretch through vents, cracks, underneath doors, and between barricades. A locked door isn't necessarily protection.

If even a tiny amount of his slime gets inside...

The door becomes useless.

Slimebert can also divide himself.

When damaged or separated, his body doesn't simply regenerate.

It multiplies.

A chunk of Slimebert left behind can continue moving independently, slowly growing until it becomes another portion of the main creature. Attempting to cut him apart can therefore make the situation dramatically worse.

Survivors learned this the hard way.

The first security team that attempted to shoot him thought they had succeeded when his body was blown apart across a hallway.

Then every piece started moving.

Within minutes, the entire corridor was covered in Slimebert.

His most terrifying ability is Assimilation.

Anything Slimebert completely dissolves becomes part of him.

This doesn't simply increase his size.

He gains physical characteristics from what he consumes.

If he absorbs metal, portions of his body can temporarily harden into incredibly dense armor.

If he absorbs electrical equipment, electricity can begin traveling through his body.

If he absorbs organic tissue, he can reproduce distorted biological structures within himself.

Arms.

Eyes.

Teeth.

Claws.

Even voices.

He can recreate them imperfectly from the things he has consumed.

The faces inside him aren't hallucinations.

They're remnants.

Sometimes a survivor will hear their missing friend's voice coming from inside Slimebert.

Sometimes they'll see their face.

Sometimes the creature will recreate their voice perfectly and call their name from somewhere in the darkness.

It doesn't mean the person is alive.

Slimebert is simply using what remains of them.

His intelligence is also far greater than anyone initially believed.

He doesn't blindly wander.

He learns.

He remembers.

If someone escapes him through a particular route, he remembers the route.

If someone uses a particular weapon against him, he learns to avoid it.

If a group repeatedly hides in the same safe room, Slimebert eventually begins waiting outside it.

He can even imitate environmental sounds to lure survivors toward him.

A radio transmission.

Footsteps.

A door opening.

A person's voice.

Anything he has heard enough times can eventually be reproduced through his body.

And he doesn't need to kill everyone he encounters.

Sometimes he deliberately lets survivors escape.

Not because he couldn't catch them.

Because he wants to know where they'll go.

Slimebert can leave tiny traces of himself behind.

A drop of slime on someone's shoe.

A smear beneath a door.

A microscopic amount stuck to a piece of equipment.

Those traces slowly grow.

If they aren't discovered and removed, they can eventually become extensions of Slimebert himself.

This makes escaping him extremely dangerous.

You may think you've gotten away.

You may have actually brought him with you.

Fire is one of the few things that can temporarily force Slimebert to retreat, but even that isn't a guaranteed solution. Extreme heat causes portions of his body to harden and rupture, scattering corrosive fragments across the surrounding area.

Trying to destroy him can therefore turn him into a hazard zone.

Dr. Harlow eventually realized something terrifying.

Slimebert wasn't an experiment that had gone wrong.

The infection didn't make him.

Harlow didn't create him.

He had simply discovered something that was already there.

Something that had been dormant beneath the hospital long before Ward Zero existed.

And Harlow's experiments had awakened it.

Harlow's final notes regarding Slimebert contain no scientific explanation.

No measurements.

No theories.

No classification.

Only one sentence:

"It isn't adapting to us. It's learning how to consume us."

After the outbreak, Slimebert became one of the most dangerous entities inside Animal Hospital.

The survivors have developed strict rules for dealing with him.

Never touch the slime.

Never enter a room containing unexplained puddles.

Never shoot him unless absolutely necessary.

Never assume separating him means he's dead.

Never follow a familiar voice without confirming who is speaking.

And most importantly...

Never let Slimebert touch you.

Because getting attacked by Slimebert isn't necessarily an instant death.

That's what makes him worse.

You have time to realize what's happening.

You feel the burning.

You feel your clothing dissolving.

You see the slime spreading across your body.

And if nobody gets you away quickly enough...

You become part of him.

Another face.

Another voice.

Another memory for the thing underneath the hospital to learn from.

Ghosts

The Ghosts are the lingering spirits of patients who died inside Animal Hospital. They are not infected patients and are not traditional anomalies created by Dr. Harlow. They are the remnants of people who died within the hospital and were unable to move on.

Ghosts can appear after a patient dies unexpectedly, dies during surgery, or dies while being treated elsewhere in the hospital. The more traumatic or sudden the death, the more likely the spirit is to remain behind.

They usually appear as translucent, pale versions of the patients they once were. Their bodies may have faint wounds or distorted features reflecting the way they died. Ghosts who died during surgery may appear wearing fragments of surgical equipment, hospital coverings, or other items associated with their final moments.

Some Ghosts still remember who they were.

Others barely remember anything.

A Ghost may wander through the hospital repeating the same actions it performed before its death. A patient who died in an operating room might repeatedly walk toward the surgery ward before disappearing, while another may stand outside the room where they died, staring through the doorway.

Ghosts cannot normally be touched.

Hands pass through them like smoke.

However, they can interact with the environment in subtle ways. Doors may open when they pass through them. Medical equipment can turn on by itself. Lights flicker. Monitors may suddenly display readings belonging to patients who are no longer alive.

Their presence is often announced by a sudden drop in temperature.

The hospital becomes unnaturally cold.

Breathing becomes visible.

Machines may begin making quiet noises despite being turned off.

Then the Ghost appears.

Some Ghosts are peaceful and simply wander the hospital, unaware that they are dead.

Others are confused or distressed.

The most dangerous Ghosts are those who died violently or experienced extreme fear before death. These spirits may become aggressive toward living people, especially anyone they associate with their final moments.

A Ghost may suddenly appear directly behind someone.

It may whisper.

It may imitate the voice of another staff member.

It may even appear on security cameras when nobody can see it in person.

Ghosts cannot infect anyone, and killing them is impossible because they are already dead.

However, they can temporarily frighten, disorient, or physically affect living people. A particularly powerful Ghost can slam doors, knock objects from shelves, shut off lights, or cause medical equipment to malfunction.

Ghosts are especially common around the surgery rooms.

When someone dies during an operation, the operating room may remain haunted afterward.

Sometimes the surgical lights turn on by themselves.

Sometimes an empty operating table becomes covered in frost.

Sometimes the heart monitor begins producing a heartbeat even though nobody is lying on the table.

And sometimes...

The Ghost of the patient appears above the operating table, staring down at the place where they died.

The staff have learned one important rule:

If a Ghost appears peacefully, leave it alone.

It may eventually disappear on its own.

But if it starts following you...

Don't let it lead you back to where it died.

The Baiter

The [Master] Baiter is an upgraded form of the Purple Tentacles. Unlike the original Purple Tentacles, which primarily attack from concealment, the Baiter actively hunts survivors by manipulating their instincts and trust.

The Baiter resembles an enormous, unnatural anglerfish-like organism combined with a mass of dark purple tentacles. Its actual body is rarely visible at first. Most of its body remains hidden inside its host.

The creature hunts by finding a living host.

Once it catches someone, it kills them and enters their body, eventually settling inside the victim's stomach and surrounding internal organs. The host's body becomes a temporary disguise and hunting vessel for the creature.

The Baiter can then create fake objects outside the host's body.

Its most common forms are:

Fake Coffee

Fake Medkits

Fake Medical Supplies

Fake Food

Fake Drinks

The objects appear almost completely normal from a distance. A survivor may see a cup of coffee sitting on a table in an abandoned hallway and immediately assume someone left it behind.

But the object isn't real.

It is bait.

The Baiter uses its tentacles to manipulate the fake object, sometimes making it twitch, move slightly, or appear as though it was recently placed there.

The creature specifically understands that survivors are more likely to investigate useful supplies.

This makes coffee particularly effective bait because survivors such as Barney actively depend on it to maintain their sanity and prevent transformation.

The Baiter can deliberately create a perfect-looking cup of coffee and leave it somewhere isolated.

When someone approaches and attempts to pick it up, the fake object suddenly changes.

Purple tentacles erupt from beneath it, wrapping around the survivor's limbs and pulling them toward the host.

The host then opens unnaturally, revealing that its body is no longer human.

The Baiter attacks.

If the survivor is killed, the creature can use the new body as another host.

The Baiter does not simply attack immediately. It prefers to lure prey close enough that escape becomes difficult.

The creature can also imitate small environmental details to make its bait more convincing. A fake medkit may have the correct hospital markings. A fake coffee cup may even have warmth coming from it. A fake radio may emit distant voices.

However, there are subtle signs that something is wrong.

The bait may:

Have no proper weight

Feel slightly warm or cold when it shouldn't

Make faint wet noises

Have tiny purple veins beneath its surface

Move when nobody is touching it

Appear in a location where nobody could have placed it

Disappear when viewed from a different angle

Or briefly reveal a tiny purple eye somewhere on its surface

The Baiter's greatest weakness is that its bait cannot perfectly reproduce reality.

Experienced survivors learn to check suspicious supplies before touching them.

Barney is particularly vulnerable to this anomaly because fake coffee is one of the most effective ways to lure him.

The Baiter may deliberately leave a cup of coffee somewhere obvious and wait for Barney to find it.

The creature understands exactly why he would take the bait.

The Baiter is extremely dangerous because survivors cannot simply assume that useful supplies are safe.

A medkit might be a medkit.

A cup of coffee might be a cup of coffee.

Or it might be something waiting for them to get close enough.

The Purple Tentacles were predators.

The Baiter is a predator that has learned how to make its prey come willingly.

THE BLACK-RED EYED FIGURE:

???

Infection AU Lore

Years before the hospital entered lockdown, Animal Hospital was far more than a place to treat patients.

Hidden beneath the public floors was an underground research facility known only as Ward Zero. Its existence was erased from blueprints, hidden behind reinforced blast doors, and accessible only through security clearances held by a handful of employees.

The project was led by Dr. Harlow.

Officially, Dr. Harlow was researching abnormal biological regeneration to treat injuries that modern medicine couldn't heal. Public reports described his work as revolutionary, capable of restoring damaged organs, repairing nervous systems, and eliminating incurable diseases.

None of that was the real objective.

Months before construction of Ward Zero, a living organism was recovered from beneath the land where the hospital would eventually be built. It wasn't an animal, a parasite, or a fungus. It possessed no recognizable species and refused to die under any known condition.

Whenever pieces were removed from it, they continued living independently.

Whenever tissue samples were destroyed...

They grew back.

Dr. Harlow believed he had discovered the next stage of evolution.

Against repeated warnings from other researchers, he began implanting microscopic samples into volunteer subjects. At first, the results were miraculous.

Broken bones healed overnight.

Damaged organs regenerated.

Terminal illnesses disappeared.

The subjects became stronger, healthier, and almost impossible to kill.

Then the changes continued.

Their senses sharpened beyond human limits.

Their bodies adapted to injuries instead of suffering from them.

Their minds slowly began hearing thoughts that weren't their own.

By the time researchers realized the organism wasn't healing people—but replacing them—it was already too late.

Dr. Harlow refused to terminate the project.

He insisted humanity simply wasn't allowing the organism enough time to complete its work.

Several researchers attempted to destroy Ward Zero.

None of them survived.

The project continued in complete secrecy for years.

Eventually, containment failed.

Nobody knows exactly how.

Some believe a test subject escaped.

Others believe Dr. Harlow intentionally released the organism after becoming convinced the world needed to evolve.

Within hours, the infection spread throughout the underground laboratories before reaching the hospital above.

Patients transformed first.

Staff followed soon after.

Emergency lockdown procedures sealed every exit automatically, trapping everyone inside with the outbreak.

As the infection spread, survivors discovered something horrifying.

Not everyone transformed the same way.

Most victims lost themselves completely, becoming the mindless monsters that now roam the hospital's halls.

A handful, however, adapted differently.

Instead of surrendering their minds, they reached an unstable balance between human and anomaly.

Secret Agent was one of the first.

His left side was permanently claimed by the organism, mutating his arm into a living weapon and destroying his left eye. In exchange, his hearing evolved into an echolocation-like sense capable of detecting movement throughout the hospital.

Barney was another.

His body quietly accepted the anomaly without consuming his humanity. The mutation granted him enhanced strength, resilience, and heightened senses, but at a terrible cost. Without regular doses of the hospital's specially prepared coffee, the organism begins overwhelming his mind, slowly pushing him toward the same fate as every other infected patient.

Nobody knows why coffee suppresses the anomaly.

Some believe Dr. Harlow accidentally discovered the effect during early experiments.

Others think he knew all along.

What nobody can explain is why the coffee machines throughout the hospital continue working, even after the power failed.

And nobody has ever found Dr. Harlow's body.

Some survivors believe he died during the first night.

Secret Agent disagrees.

Whenever he explores the sealed corridors leading toward Ward Zero, he hears slow footsteps echoing from the darkness below.

Only one set.

Always walking.

Never running.

Waiting.