Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“He’s, ahhh . . . having a day,” I tell Knight. “I think you’re going to have to tap him out. He can’t quite hack the morgue lifestyle.”
“What’s wrong?” he chuckles. “Does he have a queasy stomach?”
“More like an exploding stomach,” I laugh to myself. “He hasn’t said anything. I think he’s too proud or doesn’t want to give you a reason not to trust him with this, and while it’s more than entertaining, this level of continuous throwing up couldn’t be good for him.”
“Shit. Okay. I’ll let him off the hook, but not before somebody takes his place.”
“I don’t know if it’s really necessary during day shift. There are people everywhere. It’s like a zoo in here. Elias won’t be able to get to me here.”
“I don’t care. I’m not taking the risk. I don’t want you defenseless.”
I scoff. “I’m hardly defenseless. I can dangle from a pull-up bar, you know?”
Knight laughs. “That you can, doll.”
I grin and go to make some cheesy response when the door of the morgue opens and the whole team of interns, admin, and assistants swarm the hallway, chatting among themselves. “Oh hey, Dr. Madden,” one of the young interns says. “We’re heading up for lunch. Did you want to join us? Perhaps bring that bodyguard of yours along.”
I gape at the group of women in shock. Lunch? They get lunch breaks? Shit. Back when I was just starting out, lunch breaks didn’t exist. I used to eat on the go, always wanting to get to the next thing, always wanting to learn something more. I was a sponge, always needing more, and nothing has changed.
“I’m okay,” I tell them. “Go on without me. I’m going to catch up on some of my reports.”
“Awwww,” I hear Knight say in my ear as the group of women heads toward the elevator, leaving me to my conversation. “Are you making friends already? And on your first day. What a clever girl.”
“I want to smack you.”
“Keep that attitude for when you get home.”
A sly grin creeps across my face as I swipe my access card and listen for the soft beep. “Oh, you can’t handle this attitude,” I tell him, shoving my hip against the door to make my way back inside. “I better go. I need to have a chat with Dr. McKullan about his taste in music.”
“Alright, doll. Stay safe.”
“Right back at ya,” I say before ending the call and stepping back inside the morgue, the sound of Dr. McKullan’s classical playlist the only sound I hear.
I make my way over to my desk as I slip my phone into my pocket, wanting to take advantage of the peace and quiet to work on the report from this morning’s autopsies, when a strange gurgling sound has my back stiffening.
I turn around and find Dr. McKullan across the morgue, directly facing me, his face ghostly white as he stands abnormally still. “Are . . . Are you alright?” I ask, taking a hesitant step toward him when a strange redness begins soaking through the front of his lab coat.
“Ru—run.”
My eyes widen in horror, and I suck in a gasp just as blood begins to trickle from his mouth. “Dr. McKullan.”
I start to race toward him when he drops to his knees, only as his body falls forward, Elias appears directly behind him, a long, bloodied blade dangling from his fingers. “Hello, kitten,” he purrs, his vile gaze roaming over my body as I skid to a halt, terrified for Dr. McKullan on the floor. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“No. NO!” I scream, horror pounding through my veins as I hastily back up, my gaze constantly flicking back to Dr. McKullan as he begins bleeding out. I need to get to him. I need to stop the bleeding. If I can just get a team in here, we could still save him, but it needs to happen now.
Elias laughs and steps over Dr. McKullan, not even bothering to have worn the mask to cover the sickening injuries still covering his face. Then as I continue to back up, he looks at my mentor. He crouches down and grips Dr. McKullan by the hair, pulling him up and exposing his neck, making my blood run cold.
“No,” I cry as Elias laughs.
“RUN!” Dr. McKullan demands just moments before Elias swipes the blade clean across the base of the good doctor’s throat, spilling every last drop of his blood. Dr. McKullan goes limp in Elias’s hand, and he carelessly drops his body as I gape at the scene in horror, my chest heaving as my hands violently begin to shake.
“No. No, no, no,” I cry, my whole body trembling. How can this be happening? He was supposed to retire. He was going to spend long days watching his grandkids in the pool. He was going to take his wife around the world just like she’s always wanted, and now he’s just . . . just dead?