**Chapter Four: Shadows of the Dock**
One of the fascinating aspects of my gig as a kitchen hand was the access it granted me to the hospital's inner workings. My daily routine took me through the belly of the beast—the loading dock on Level B2.
As I made my way to the dock to pick up supplies for The Loft, I often crossed paths with Shane, the storeman. Shane was an enigma. He had funded his university studies in pharmacy, and it showed in the way he meticulously organized the hospital's supplies. Yet, there was something about him that made him seem detached from the world, like a man lost in his own thoughts.
One day, as I wheeled a cart stacked with boxes toward the dock, I couldn't help but comment on Shane's creative Halloween decoration. A skeleton sat perched on a chair, a cigarette in its bony fingers. It was a macabre touch, one that had somehow slipped past the hospital censors.
Shane chuckled as I pointed it out. "Figured it'd be fitting," he said, his voice oddly flat. "You know, with all the smoking and all."
It was a strange statement, one that lingered in my mind as I continued my rounds. Smoking and cancer—there was a connection there that was hard to ignore. And it got me thinking about the patients I saw in the hospital.
Mixed in with the real cancer patients, were there others? Test subjects, perhaps, used like crash-test dummies to try out new cancer drugs? It was a disturbing thought, one that added another layer of mystery to this place.
As I left the loading dock and headed back to The Loft, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this hospital than met the eye. The shadows of the dock seemed to stretch and envelop me, and I knew that I was just scratching the surface of the hospital's secrets.
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