Submitted by: Nadia, 38
Registered nurse
I work in healthcare and have seen death many times. I do not believe every strange sound is paranormal. Hospitals are full of old pipes, faulty electronics and exhausted people.
Room 614 was different.
The room had been empty for three days because of water damage near the bathroom. Maintenance had disconnected the bed, removed the mattress and sealed the room until repairs could begin.
During my first night shift that week, the call system displayed:
614 — Bathroom assistance.
I cancelled it from the desk.
Thirty seconds later, it appeared again.
I assumed moisture had damaged the wiring. I called maintenance and recorded the fault.
At 1:40 a.m., the alarm activated for a third time.
This time, it showed:
614 — Emergency.
An emergency call cannot be cancelled remotely. Two staff members must enter the room and reset the panel manually.
My colleague was helping a patient, so I went alone.
The corridor outside 614 felt unusually cold. The plastic seal over the door had been pulled loose at one corner.
I entered using the master key.
The room was dark except for light from the hallway.
The empty bed frame stood against the wall. The call cord had been removed and lay coiled on the windowsill.
The emergency light above the bathroom flashed red.
I crossed the room and opened the bathroom door.
Nobody was inside.
As I reached for the reset button, I heard breathing behind me.
Slow, wet breathing.
The privacy curtain around the empty bed began to move.
I said, “Hello?”
The breathing stopped.
I pulled the curtain aside.
The bed frame was empty.
However, the metal bars were lowered as though someone had recently climbed out.
I reset the alarm and left.
When I returned to the nurses’ station, the system activated again.
614 — Pain relief.
Then:
614 — Family present.
Then:
614 — Patient deceased.
That final message was not part of our call system. There was no button or setting capable of displaying it.
My colleague and I returned together.
The door was locked, but the plastic seal was now hanging from the ceiling.
Inside, the room smelled strongly of antiseptic and decaying flowers.
The empty bed frame had been moved into the centre of the room.
A deep indentation appeared on the plastic sheet beneath it, as though a heavy body were lying there.
My colleague stepped closer.
The indentation slowly shifted.
It looked like someone turning their head toward us.
We left and called security.
The guard found nothing unusual except the moved bed. He accused us of playing a joke until we reviewed the hallway camera.
The footage showed me entering the room alone at 1:43.
Twenty seconds later, an elderly woman in a hospital gown walked down the corridor.
She stopped outside 614, looked directly at the camera and passed through the closed door.
She never came out.
A senior nurse later identified her from the recording. The woman had died in Room 614 eleven years earlier after repeatedly calling for help during a night shift.
The records stated that her call button had malfunctioned.
Nobody reached her for almost an hour.
The room was repaired and returned to service. Management replaced the entire alarm panel.
The calls continued.
They stopped only after a handwritten sign was placed beside the bed:
We hear you. You are not alone.
I do not know who wrote it.
Editorial note: This is an original fictional horror story presented in a realistic user-submission style. It is not a verified eyewitness account.