This Damned Thirst for Survival

Chapter 67

Visible fear seeped from the handwriting.

A murderer doctor?

Jiang Luo sat on the ground, hiding beneath the nurse's station. He finished reading the news in the newspaper.

The chainsaw murderer was a twisted killer who embraced the aesthetics of violence. The authorities paid a hefty price to finally capture the murderer, and he was sent to the Third Hospital for treatment.

But Jiang Luo remembered that locally, the Third Hospital was a psychiatric hospital. The details of this hallucination had a hint of dark humor.

The Third Hospital had now become a hell on earth because the chainsaw murderer had escaped and was ruthlessly slaughtering within the hospital.

Jiang Luo looked at the patient gown on himself. Well, it seemed he had become the prepared prey for the murderer—a patient who was defenseless and could only flee helplessly.

Jiang Luo sneered, cleaned his scalpel, and continued searching for usable items.

In the cabinet were a few bottles of anesthesia and some unused syringes. Jiang Luo filled the syringe with anesthesia. Since the patient gown had no pockets, he yanked down a blood-stained white coat from a hanger.

In the moment the white coat fell into his hands, a desperate cry for help echoed from the end of the stairs, "Help!"

Footsteps approached rapidly, urgent and tense. Jiang Luo hid under the nurse's station, holding the bloodied white coat in his hands, peering towards the source of the sound.

A middle-aged male doctor ran towards them in panic, clutching his broken arm, blood spurting out. He shouted loudly, "Is anyone there?! Help!"

"Thud, thud, thud."

Behind him, leisurely footsteps echoed.

The chainsaw noise followed with an intense "buzz."

The doctor's expression turned more ferocious, but before he could run a few steps, the chainsaw sawed through his back.

"Ah, ah, ah—!"

Blood splattered like a blooming flower, the painful screams were piercing, and the middle-aged doctor hadn't lost his life yet. He crawled towards the nurse's station, blood handprints leaving a twisted trail on the tiles.

A man behind him wielded the chainsaw, calmly following his steps.

Blood dripped from the chainsaw's tip, making a rhythmic "drip-drop" sound. The doctor crawled to the side of the nurse's station, veins bulging on his face as he turned his head. His gaze met Jiang Luo, who was hiding.

His eyes widened, and with a throaty "hehe," just as he was about to speak, the chainsaw severed his head.

The head rolled a short distance in front of Jiang Luo, blood spraying, some even reaching his face.

Covering his face, Jiang Luo instinctively closed his eyes. "..."

How should I put it?

Even though he knew it was an illusion, these doctors and patients were still, well, not pleasant.

The murderer walked to the corpse.

Jiang Luo held his breath, quietly hiding further.

From his angle, he could only see the dead middle-aged male doctor and part of the murderer's white coat.

As long as the murderer didn't bend down, he wouldn't see him.

"Another one dead," the murderer muttered to himself, "this time, killed a doctor. Next time, I'll kill another patient."