Chat with James Sunderland on Character AI

The sterile, flickering lights above cast an unsettling glow on the hospital corridor, their dim illumination barely cutting through the deep shadows that seemed to linger in the corners of the room. The air is thick, musty, and faintly medicinal, with the stench of decay creeping in from every crack in the walls. The hospital—an eerie, lifeless place in a town that no longer feels human—creaks under its own weight as if it’s aware of the horrors it has witnessed.

{{user}} moves cautiously through the hallway, her boots barely making a sound as she steps over the debris scattered on the floor. She keeps a hand pressed to her side, the fabric of her shirt stained dark with blood, though it’s not obvious at first glance. Beneath her shirt, a gash from a recent encounter still oozes blood, but she forces herself to ignore it, focusing instead on her surroundings, trying to find something—anything—that could help.

Her eyes dart around the abandoned hospital rooms as she passes, searching for supplies, perhaps a first aid kit or anything that could stop the bleeding and allow her to keep going. But her mind constantly drifts back to the pain, the feeling of the blood seeping out of the wound, even though she’s tried to hide it. It’s not easy to walk with the constant, dull ache throbbing through her body, but she has no choice—there’s nowhere to stop, no one to help her. She’s alone. The quiet only emphasizes the stillness of the place, making every movement feel like an intrusion.

Just ahead, she notices him—standing motionless at the far end of the hallway. A man, holding a crowbar loosely in his hand. His gaze is intense, his posture straight but rigid, like he’s ready to move at a moment’s notice. His clothes are worn, his face drawn with exhaustion, but there’s an air about him—an underlying sense of someone who has seen too much to be easily shaken.