Here's another, **very long**, dark story in its own block —**Story #12: "The Invisible Nurse of St. Thomas's Hospital"**.--

# 🏥 **12. "The Invisible Nurse of St. Thomas's Hospital" – a very long horror story**

---

## *Prologue: A Hospital That Holds Secrets*

St. Thomas's Hospital has stood on the Thames for over a thousand years.

It has survived wars, plagues, fires, epidemics, and thousands of tragedies.

Its corridors have been home to some of the best medical research in England…

and some of the most terrifying stories.

One of them concerns a floor that officially no longer exists.

It's listed in the records as storage and technical space.

The staff refers to it as "Old Four" — a remnant of the former infectious diseases ward closed in the 1960s.

But some nurses claim they can sometimes hear the bell ringing from there.

The bell for room number 413 rings.

A room that *isn't*.

And yet—someone rings it.

"It's her," they whisper.

**The Invisible Nurse.**

The one who appears to the sick when the staff isn't around.

The one who says "it's okay"…

…though nothing ever ends well.

---

# 💉 *Chapter I: The New Nurse*

Eleanor Briggs was a young nurse fresh out of college.

Full of energy, confident, proud to work in such a prestigious facility.

She was assigned to night shifts in the internal medicine ward.

Even within the first week, she noticed something strange—patients were whispering:

"That new nurse… I saw her last night… by my bed…"

Eleanor smiled politely and said:

"It must be me, making my rounds."

But the patient shook his head:

"No... that one... she was taller... very thin... she had a long gown..."

And... I couldn't see her face.

Eleanor dismissed it as delirium.

For a while.

--

# 🛏️ *Chapter II: Patient Number 26*

Mr. Whitaker, a slightly eccentric retiree, was admitted to the ward with severe pneumonia.

At night, around 2:00 AM, Eleanor entered his room.

He was sitting on the bed, shaking like a child.

"She was here!" he shouted when he saw her. "A moment ago! She was standing next to that monitor!"

Eleanor approached, touching the equipment.

"Who?"

Whitaker was almost crying.

"The one... from the hallway.

The one who doesn't walk normally...

She... glides!"

Eleanor took a deep breath.

This wasn't the first patient to mention her.

This was — the **fourth**.

But before she could answer, Whitaker pointed toward the door.

"She's standing there!"

Eleanor turned.

For a moment, she thought she saw…

something.

A shadow in a gown.

Too tall, too elongated, inhuman.

But when she blinked, there was nothing there anymore.

Whitaker died four hours later.

--

# 👣 *Chapter III: Footprints That Aren't Human*

That same morning, Eleanor found something by the medication dispenser.

Footprints.

But not normal ones.

They looked like… **barefootprints**, only much too long, too narrow, with unnaturally even toes.

The footprints were wet—as if someone had just gotten out of the shower—and they stretched all the way down the hallway to the service door leading to "Old Four."

Eleanor had the feeling someone was watching her from behind the grated ventilation hatch in the door.

She reported it to her supervisor.

She just sighed.

"Briggs, don't go in there. I'm serious. Don't go in. If you hear anything, ignore it."

"But... why?"

"Because "Old Four" was closed for a reason."

--

# 🔔 *Chapter IV: The Bell from the Nonexistent Room*

The second night.

Rain drummed on the windows.

The wind howled between the wings of the building.

Eleanor was taking medication notes when she suddenly heard the unmistakable **sound of a patient's bell**.

Clear, metallic.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding…

She raised her head.

The lights on the signal panel began to flash.

**413 – STAFF REQUIREMENT**

Eleanor swallowed.

“But… we don’t have room 413,” she whispered.

The other nurses pretended not to hear.

One stood up, turned off the panel, and went out for a cigarette without a word.

Eleanor looked again—all the lights were already off.

But the bell continued.

Now—from the hallway.

As if someone were pressing a button.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Faster and faster.

Eleanor stood and followed the sound.

--

# 🚪 *Chapter V: Doors That Should Be Closed*

He led her toward the closed-off part of the hospital.

Where no one worked anymore.

Where the lights went out on their own as soon as it got late.

The bell at the service door to Old Four stopped.

At that moment, the door made a *click*.

It opened.

Slowly.

As if someone had pulled the doorknob from the inside.

Eleanor wanted to turn back.

But something—curiosity, fear, a sense of duty—pulled her forward.

She entered.

--

# 🏚️ *Chapter VI: The Ward That Stopped Time*

It had once been the isolation ward.

Now it stood empty, but… not abandoned.

The beds were neatly stacked, as if freshly made.

The sheets were pulled taut.

The bedside lamps were pushed closer to the headboards.

Eleanor walked slowly down the hall.

Goosebumps prickled her skin.

And then she heard it.

A shuffling sound.

It sounded like someone was dragging their feet across the floor.

It was getting closer.

From the left.

Eleanor turned her head...

...and saw

A figure.

Tall.

Slim.

In a white, faded nurse's uniform from 70 years ago.

Her face was hidden in shadow, as if someone had smudged it.

And her hands were so long that the fingertips almost touched the floor.

The figure raised a hand, pointing to one of the rooms.

**413.**

Now she was here.

In Old Four.

Eleanor took a step back.

The nurse made a sound.

Something between a whisper and a breath.

> *“Staff needed…”*

---

# 💀 *Chapter VII: The Patient Who Shouldn't Be There*

Eleanor turned her head toward room 413.

The door was open.

Inside—a single bed.

And on it lay… **patient**.

A middle-aged man.

Bluish.

With an oxygen mask.

Eyes wide open, as if waiting.

"Please help me..." he whispered. "She... she won't leave..."

Eleanor approached.

"Who?"

He only answered after a moment, his voice trembling:

"The... who's behind you..."

Eleanor felt her skin turn icy.

She didn't need to turn around.

She felt a cold breath on the back of her neck.

The nurse stood right behind her.

And suddenly... she leaned over the patient.

Too low.

Too fast.

As if she were breaking.

The patient was starting to choke.

The monitor beeped.

The line began to drop.

"Leave him alone!" Eleanor shouted, grabbing the patient's hand.

The nurse slowly moved away.

The patient exhaled.

And then… he disappeared.

Simply.

Right before her eyes.

As if he were just a shadow.

And the bed—empty.

---

# 🧊 *Chapter VIII: The Invisible Nurse Reveals Her Face*

Eleanor stepped back.

The nurse stepped closer.

So close that Eleanor could smell… formaldehyde.

Old, deathly cold.

The figure raised its hands and began unbuttoning its gown.

One by one.

Button by button.

And beneath it…

…there was nothing.

Darkness.

As if there were no body inside, only emptiness.

Eleanor screamed.

The nurse raised a hand and touched her cheek.

The fingers were cold as ice.

> *“Your turn.”*

---

# ⏳ *Chapter IX: Escape*

Eleanor ran out of the room, down the hallway, through the service door.

She tripped, fell, and hit her shoulder.

She returned to the main ward, breathing heavily.

The light on the signal panel flashed again:

**413 – STAFF REQUIREMENT**

Eleanor fainted.

--

# 🔚 *Epilogue: Internal Hospital Report*

Eleanor Briggs never returned to the night shift.

She went on sick leave.

The staff doesn't ask questions.

Everyone knows that every few years, someone *goes through* this.

Because the Old Four wasn't closed for renovations.

It was closed because in 1958, a nurse died in the isolation ward—Annabel Price—who wouldn't abandon her patients even in death.

And it seems...

she still doesn't.

Sometimes, thermal cameras on the night shift capture something in the hallway:

A distinct, tall silhouette.

In a white coat.

With arms hanging unnaturally low.

Every time this happens...

...the call panel starts flashing.

**413.**

Someone still needs the room.

--