Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1891: Time to Get Your Medicine

Villain Ch 1891. Time to Get Your Medicine

The hospital loomed at the edge of town. Tucked behind a wrought iron gate, its crumbling sign hung from rusted chains.

It might’ve once been a clean place.

Now it was something else.

The walls were gray with rot. The windows were clouded glass, some shattered, others boarded up. Ivy coiled like veins across the brick. The scent of mold and antiseptic fought in the air like two ghosts trying to out-decay each other.

Inside?

It was worse.

Much worse.

They stepped into the reception hall, and it was like walking into a memory that didn’t belong to them. Everything was tinted blue. Like an old photo. Dust floated thick as snow. The walls were peeling. Chairs overturned. Gurneys rusted.

But the lights were on.

Flickering. Stuttering.

As if they were caught in a loop, just like the town.

“This place smells like regret,” Vivian muttered.

“It smells like sterile nightmares,” Bella said, sniffing.

Allen didn’t say anything. He was already walking down the main corridor, boots echoing on cracked tile. The others followed. Quiet now. Focused.

The rooms to either side were empty—but not untouched.

Each one had signs of recent use. Bedsheets disturbed. Blood on pillows. Wheelchairs tipped over. There were photos on the walls—blurred, water-stained faces of patients that stared just a little too long.

At the end of the hall, the door to the stairwell stood open.

Allen didn’t like how it invited them.

“Up or down?” Shea whispered.

Jane stared at the cracked map on the wall. “Grandma would’ve been in the ICU unit. She is old and Elise stabbed her. That’s the second floor.”

They took the stairs slowly.

Every step creaked.

There were whispers now. Faint. Like someone breathing into their ears. One syllable at a time.

“…Eliiiise…”

“…Eliiise…come back…”

“…she didn’t mean to…”

“…did you see the wedding?”

“…she was beautiful…”

“Make it stop,” Zoe growled, fists tightening.

“Not yet,” Allen said.

The second floor was a long corridor bathed in moonlight through broken windows. The air was colder here. Condensation clung to the walls. Their breath fogged visibly.

ICU room was at the end.

Allen walked up and placed a hand on the knob.

It was ice.

He pushed it open.

Inside—

ICU Unit 2B.

Five beds.

Four of them occupied.

Or at least—had been.

The room was dim, washed in a cold blue tint like moonlight filtered through an aquarium. Everything stank of rusted metal and dying breath. Monitors flickered, though none were plugged in. The heartbeats on the screens jumped and sputtered in erratic rhythms. IV bags hung from crooked poles, still dripping red—not blood, not saline. Something darker. Thicker.

The sheets on the beds were soaked. Dried rust-brown at the edges, wet crimson near the center.

And the patients…

They were still there.

In a way.

Thin. Twisted. Limbs curled at wrong angles like they’d been in pain so long their bodies forgot how to be human. Oxygen masks clung to slack faces. Eyes wide. Milky. But aware.

They turned as the group entered.

All four.

Turned slowly. As one.

Their mouths moved, but no words came.

Just sound.

Low, choked whispers that pressed against the eardrums like ice water pouring into the skull.

“…end it…”

“…hurts…”

“…forgotten… please…”

“…make it stop…”

Allen raised a hand instinctively, halting the others.

The ghosts didn’t move.

Didn’t attack.

They just begged.

Jane whispered, “They’re not hostile.”

“No,” Allen murmured. “They’re trapped.”

The fifth bed was empty.

Bloody sheets.

IV line still dripping red onto the floor.

And beside that bed stood a woman.

Or what was left of her.

She looked older than time. Face drawn and sagging, skin semi-translucent like wet rice paper. Her hospital gown fluttered as if caught in a breeze that wasn’t there. The moment she turned to face them, her jaw stretched too wide, down to her chest, unhinged and raw.

But her voice was quiet. Warm.

“Elise?”

Allen took a step forward. “Wait.”

The ghost looked through him. Past him.

“Elise… my sweet girl…”

From further down the hall came the soft, muffled sound of sobbing.

Allen turned.

There she was.

Elise.

On the floor. Knees pulled tight to her chest. Hair a mess. Blood smeared across her hands and the side of her face. Eyes swollen from crying.

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I didn’t… I’m sorry, Grandma…”

Allen didn’t move. Just watched her. Listened.

Behind her, the ghost of her grandmother glided forward. No sudden movements. No sharp rage.

Just sadness.

A weight of it so heavy, the whole room seemed to sink.

“I know, child,” she said softly. Her voice carried more memory than sound.

Allen felt it then.

The pressure in the air lightened.

Not entirely.

But enough.

The patients in the beds shifted. Their whispering slowed. For the first time, one of them closed their eyes and exhaled.

Like they’d been waiting for this moment.

The ghost’s smile trembled.

“She’s not the only one left behind,” she added, barely above a whisper.

Allen exhaled through his nose. Low. Controlled.

Of course not.

This place didn’t just hold people.

It fed on them.

The grief. The guilt. The pain. It kept looping.

Feeding.

A new whisper slithered up from the floorboards.

Wetter. Hungrier.

Familiar in a way that made his gut twist.

Down the hallway, the emergency lights snapped off one by one. Click. Click. Click.

Then came the voice.

“…time to get your medicine…”

It was sing-song. Mocking. Like a lullaby hummed by something with teeth.

Allen gripped his sword tighter.

“Everyone,” he said, calm but sharp. “Formation.”

The others moved without question.

Because yeah.

The hospital wasn’t done yet.

The flickering hallway cast long shadows, warping every movement into something feral and twitchy. The air was thick with disinfectant and despair, like the building was sweating ghosts through the walls. Tile underfoot was slick. Blood? Maybe. Or just condensation from the endless humidity of rot.

Allen stepped forward slowly, sword at his side, head slightly tilted.

The lights sputtered. Then flared—bright and sudden.

And that’s when they walked in.

Two nurses.

And a doctor.

No—not people. Not anymore.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

600 Power Stone = 1 bonus chapters

400 Golden Ticket= 1 bonus chapter

Magic Castle= 4 bonus chapters

Space Craft= 6 bonus chapters

Don’t forget to leave comments/reviews/any support~

Thank you for your support XD