(Part 7 of 8)
🕯️ ??:?? AM – The Room with No Door
Blackness.
No sound. No motion.
Then—
A slow mechanical hum.
Renz opened his eyes.
He was lying on a hospital bed.
Sa paligid niya: faded blue walls, peeling like skin. Fluorescent light sa kisame—blinking softly, walang rhythm. There was no door. No window. No monitor.
Just one thing on his lap:
A patient folder.
He sat up.
The folder was thick. Heavy. Familiar.
Cover stamped in faded red ink:
TRANSFER APPROVED
Name: Renato Cruz
Room: 421-B
Status: IMMERSION STAGE
His heart pounded.
“I didn’t transfer. Hindi ako pasyente…”
He stood, searching for any exit. Wala.
The walls were seamless.
He began to panic.
“TAO PO!” sigaw niya, pounding on a wall. “TAO PO! MAY TAO PO BA DITO?!”
His voice bounced back—delayed by half a second, like the room had to remember what screaming sounded like.
📁 Unknown Time – Records That Rewrite Themselves
He opened the folder.
Inside were photographs—some old, some from last week, some of him sleeping.
Each page was a copy of his thoughts.
"I want to leave."
"No one believes me."
"What is this place?"
Every sentence he had thought the night before was there—typed.
Then, the pages began updating.
Letters appeared in real time, like an invisible typewriter:
"He understands now."
"He belongs here."
"Final phase begins tonight."
He threw the folder across the room.
And then heard a voice from the ceiling.
“You were never hired, Mr. Cruz.”
🧍 Moment of Truth
The lights flickered again.
Now standing in the far corner of the room—where nothing had been before—was a figure.
Male.
In full technician uniform.
Holding a badge.
Badge 0421.
But the man wasn’t moving.
He just stared.
Renz stepped forward slowly.
The man had his face.
But with deep, sunken eyes. And when he spoke, it was a whisper echoing in layers:
“You signed the waiver.
You asked to forget.
You knew this would happen.”
Renz whispered, “Hindi… Hindi ako pumirma ng kahit ano…”
But even as he said it…
A memory stabbed into his mind.
Faint. Distant. Like a dream.
Himself, sitting in a clean office.
A clipboard.
A paper with a line at the bottom.
And his hand…
Signing:
“Renato Cruz.”
“You wanted to live forever,” the double said, stepping forward.
“But you didn’t ask where.”
The walls behind him peeled back—
Revealing an endless corridor of rooms.
All marked 4A.
Inside each one—
People, sleeping. Hooked up to machines. Unmoving. Forgotten.
And in the center of it all…
A glowing red sign:
“DISCHARGE DENIED.”
🧩 Final Part: Chapter 1, Part 8 — “Repeat”
Renz will try to escape—but the elevator returns… and so does his shift. The cycle begins again, and this time, someone else wears his badge.
YOU ARE READING
The Fourth Floor Doesn't Exist
Mystery / ThrillerThere are only three floors in Saint Oriel Hospital. Everyone knows that. But when a new technician starts his night shift, his ID badge unlocks an elevator to a floor that supposedly doesn't exist. No signs. No records. Just a long hallway, flicker...
