"Out of the way!"
"Move!"
Nick heard numerous voices around him. In his blurred vision, he could only discern the uniformed individuals beside him and the rapidly retreating ceiling with bright white lights placed in succession.
'...What the… what's happening…?' he muttered, trying to recall, but his brain was in a haze.
"We're sending the patient to the ER, immediately," said the doctor with half his face covered by a white surgical mask to his colleagues.
"Doctor… what's… what's happening?" Nick tiredly asked as he was rolled into a special medical room. An assistant doctor quickly placed an oxygen mask on his nose and mouth.
The doctor raised a surgical knife and squinted his eyes, as though smiling under the mask, and said, "I told you, kid. You don't have my money, you're so fucked."
A sense of dread washed over Nick. That voice, that dreaded voice, he could recognize it anywhere in the world. He writhed and wanted to scream, but his voice didn't leave his throat.
