Night Shift

Claudia Stevenson was a twenty-seven year old nurse with a four year old daughter named Sam. She was a single mother, so she took as many extra shifts as she could and tonight was one of them.
After dropping Sam off at her mother’s, Claudia drove quickly as it had taken an extra ten minutes to get Sam in the car. She managed to arrive three minutes early…with a speeding ticket.
She speed walked through the hospital to the nurse’s station, waving to orderlies with attitudes and surgeons with God complexes. Sherryl, the head nurse, laughed at her red face and gave her the information for her rounds.
Her first few visits went smoothly. Mr. Toro in room 209 had had a heart attack, but was recovering fully. Mrs. Goldstein in 311 needed a new liver, but was too far down on the list. And Johnny Thompson in the emergency room had broken his arm and was leaving that night.
She walked into her fourth room of the night, but didn’t get far after closing the door. “What the…” she whispered taking in the room.
The floor was tiled, like usual, only it was beyond filthy and tinted red from blood. It didn’t have the typical equipment of a patient’s room. There was a cart filled with surgical tools such as scissors and a scalpel.
A few feet away, there was a metal table that resembled a gurney. Claudia gasped as she saw what was on the table. A man who appeared to already be dead. He had been cut open from the top of his sternum to the bottom of his stomach. The open incision revealed a motionless heart and several important missing organs. She could tell from the bleeding that it had happened while he was still alive and had been the cause of his death.
As she heard the distant roll of speaking wheels beginning to grow nearer, the room faded away, but the sound did not. She was temporarily granted a glimpse of the hospital room that should have been there all along as a new room set itself, all the while squeaking wheels becoming louder.
In the new room, also tinted red, the same equipment sans cart was present but arranged on the other side of the room. This time, she noticed, the victim, a woman, was alive and screaming, but hadn’t noticed her.
The squeaking wheels that had been forgotten momentarily were remembered with horror as the missing cart was wheeled into the room. The man pushing it was dressed in an apron, large rubber gloves, and a large gas mask, all caked and dripping with blood.
He stopped short as he heard Claudia’s screams join the victim’s. He slowly turned to her and said, “Why, Nurse Stevenson, you’re late.” In a sickeningly soft voice.
He picked up one of the tools, but she didn’t catch which one and began taking steps toward her. As he approached, she began backing into a corner, then slid to the floor and closed her eyes.
She screamed and opened her eyes. She stooped though, as she realized she wasn’t in the hospital any longer, but in her own bed. The sheets drenched in sweat and tangled from ruthless tossing and turning. She slowly sat up and put her head in her hands, breathing heavily.
“Thank God. It was just a dream. I’m okay.” She whispered still gasping for air.
“Are you?” A soft and deranged, but oh so familiar voice asked.