The smoke alarms start to squeal. There's the patter of footsteps up and down hallways, the shouts of urgency and confusion. Eventually, someone starts to unlock the doors leading to the rooms of the patients. A nurse with scrubs stained black with soot finally presses the door open, beckoning Tim out with shouts that smear into indistinct noise, indistinguishable from the roar of the flame. He's already begun to cough, eyes streaming and red, huddling against the door even as the knob starts to heat and the fire begins to chew away at the walls surrounding him, racing ever closer, closer -

Tim glances back, once, his eyes wide and dark with terror.

They settle upon Georgia, the lady he doesn't know, but the nurse doesn't acknowledge her whatsoever - meaning she isn't real.

Just like the man behind her. He can't read its lack of a face, but he knows, he knows, that it's...happy with him. The thought makes him want to retch.

The nurse starts to usher him out and down the length of hallway. He bolts ahead, unimpeded.

There's only one place he can go to be safe.