seven:Misfire

The hospital doors swung open with force, a gust of cold night air trailing behind as five men stepped inside. The dim fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting pale reflections on the pristine floors. The hospital, usually eerily quiet at this hour, felt heavier with their presence—like the air itself had thickened.

The scent of antiseptic and sterilized corridors did nothing to steady their breaths. It felt suffocating.

Their footsteps, rapid and uneven, echoed down the empty hallway. They didn't notice the officers leaving. The officers didn't notice them either.

Because right now, nothing else existed.

Only one name weighed on their chests—

Shivani.

They burst into the reception area, their presence crashing through the stillness like a wave against the shore.

Ranvijay reached the desk first, his hands slamming onto the counter with a force that made the receptionist straighten in alarm. His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he had been running for miles—but he had only just begun.

His voice came out low, rough, edged with something dangerous.

"Shivani Thakur Agnihotri. Which room?"

The receptionist's fingers hovered above the keyboard, her pulse quickening. She had seen anxious families before, had dealt with worried visitors at odd hours of the night.

But this was different.

The sheer force of their presence, the undeniable intensity in their eyes, made her stomach twist. They weren't just desperate. They were breaking.

Rudransh stood stiffly beside Ranvijay, his body tense, his jaw locked. He wasn't just waiting for an answer—he was holding himself back from demanding it.

Ayaan shifted on his feet, his hands curled into fists at his sides. His face was pale, his breath shallow.

Veer's fingers twitched. Every second of silence made his patience thinner, his frustration sharp enough to cut.

Kabir barely blinked, his eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the answer to appear faster.

The receptionist swallowed, her fingers typing as quickly as they could.

"Room 203. Second floor."

She had barely spoken the words before they were gone.

No acknowledgment. No hesitation.

They turned in unison, their movements quick, unrelenting—as if time itself was slipping through their fingers.

Their footsteps disappeared down the hall, but the weight of their presence lingered.

The receptionist exhaled only after they vanished from sight, pressing a hand to her chest to steady her heartbeat.

She had seen panic before. She had seen fear.

But never like this.

Never this raw, this suffocating, this terrifying.

It felt as though a storm had passed through, shaking the very air around her.

And at its center— Was Shivani.

They rushed toward the elevator, the urgency in their movements unmistakable.

Ranvijay pressed the button once. Then again. Then again—harder this time, as if sheer force would make it respond.

The panel stayed dark.

His jaw clenched, his breath coming out sharp as he turned to look at the others.

Rudransh's patience snapped first. "Damn it!" His voice echoed down the corridor, sharp enough to cut through the silence.

Ayaan hit the side of the elevator in frustration, his palm stinging from the impact. There was no time for this.

Veer exhaled roughly, his hands flexing at his sides. The anger bubbling beneath his skin was ready to spill over.

Kabir barely spared the lift another second. "Stairs," he muttered, already moving.

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

They turned and ran.

Their shoes thundered against the metal stairs, each step taken two at a time. The hollow echo of their rushed movements bounced off the walls, amplifying the weight in their chests.

Ranvijay's fingers curled around the railing for balance, his grip almost painful. His mind was racing, battling between the hope that she was okay and the fear that she wasn't.

Rudransh moved like a man possessed, his breath sharp, his emotions barely contained. The feeling of helplessness clawed at him, but there was no time to process it.

Ayaan's hands shook as he moved, his stomach twisting with a guilt he couldn't put into words. He had always believed there was time—but what if there wasn't?

Veer's frustration boiled over with every step. His fists clenched, his movements rigid, controlled only by the need to reach her. The hospital, the world, everything felt too slow.

Kabir remained eerily silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't need to say anything—his silence screamed louder than words ever could.

They didn't stop. They didn't breathe. They just ran.

Because every second felt like a countdown.

-------

The hallway echoed with hurried footsteps as five men sprinted toward Room 203—

or so they thought.

Veer reached first, his impatience overpowering his caution. Without glancing at the room number, he shoved the door open and charged inside. The others followed blindly, hearts pounding, minds clouded with panic.

Then they stopped dead in their tracks.

The sight before them sucked the air out of their lungs.

A woman lay on the hospital bed, wrapped from head to toe in plaster. Both her legs hung suspended in casts, one arm was secured in a sling, and her head was heavily bandaged. A thick layer of ointment covered her swollen, bruised face. Only her eyes—barely visible beneath the puffiness—blinked at them in utter confusion.

Ayaan gulped. "Y-Yeh… yeh Shivani hai?"

Ranvijay's stomach twisted. "No... no, it can't be..."

Rudransh clenched his fists, trying to process the horrifying sight. "Warden ne toh bola tha stable hai!"

Ayaan, his brain struggling to keep up, blurted out, "Suicide hi toh tha na? Yeh toh pura fracture factory lag rahi hai!"

Veer staggered back. "Oh god… yeh toh bohot bura ho gaya!"

Kabir's eyes welled up. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto a chair, shaking his head. "Shivani… aisa kya ho gaya ki tu itni buri haalat mein hai?!" His voice cracked, fingers gripping his hair.

The plastered woman blinked. Then grunted. Then tried to lift a hand… but all she managed was a weak twitch.

All five men gasped in unison.

For a long moment, nobody moved. Then, to their absolute horror, the woman teared up.

Her lips trembled. Her breath hitched. And before they could react—

She let out a choked sob.

Ayaan, suddenly feeling like the world's most important investigator, stepped forward and lifted a wise finger. "Par ek second. Confirm toh karna padega ki ye sun bhi sak rahi hai ki nahi."

Ranvijay's throat went dry. "Doctor ko bulana chahiye…"

But just as Ayaan turned toward the door, his eyes finally registered the number outside.

201.

Not 203.

His heart stopped.

His stomach dropped.

His soul exited his body.

"Ek… ek second…" Ayaan croaked.

The others turned to him, pale-faced, emotions crashing into their expressions.

Ayaan swallowed hard. "Yeh… Shivani nahi hai…"

Dead silence.

A long, dreadful pause.

Then—

The woman on the bed groaned weakly. "Nurse…"

The five men stared at her.

She stared back.

The heart monitor beeped louder.

Then—

"BHAAAAAAAAGOOOOO!"

Ranvijay yanked Kabir up, Veer practically shoved Rudransh, and Ayaan led the stampede as they BOLTED out of the room like their lives depended on it.

Kabir wiped his tears mid-run. Veer grabbed Ayaan's collar before he could turn around and say, "Ek aur test karne do, na!"

They skidded to a stop outside, panting, chests heaving.

Ayaan bent over, hands on his knees. "Bhai yeh kya tha?!"

Veer wiped his forehead. "Mujhe laga zindagi khatam ho gayi!"

Kabir, still emotionally shattered, sniffled. "Par Shivani ke saath aisa ho bhi sakta tha…"

Rudransh smacked him upside the head. "Abbe pehle sahi room dhundh lein, phir rote rahiyo!"

Just then, a nurse walked past, eyeing them suspiciously.

Ayaan straightened his posture and cleared his throat. "Humein kuch nahi pata. Hum yaha the hi nahi."

Ranvijay exhaled, rubbing his temples. "203. Is baar sahi room pe ja rahe hain."

And with that, they rushed down the hall, praying they wouldn't traumatize another patient.