The creatures' outlines were different from that of the emaciated zombies of before.  There was a body, a corpse at the very least despite having no arms, one of two trudging towards him, one of which was most certainly feline.  But the head was a lot thicker, bloated even.  In fact, bulges were all over its body like thick bruised welts.  When it came closer however, James soon realised that they were tumours.
Bulbous tumorous corpses, with scars all over their body, gaping stitched wounds that seemed to breathe for air.  James readily aimed his handgun and fired at one, the thicker head making for an easier target.  It didn't go down from just the one shot, merely replying with a strangled gurgling that cut through his teeth.  He fired again, shooting each shot carefully despite his aim turning shakier.
	"Get the fuck back!"
Naturally they didn't listen, merely walking forwards until one of them, the creature he wasn't shooting at, suddenly lashed out with some kind of meaty tentacle.  It slapped itself around James' neck, wrapping around his throat and slowly squeezing him like a python.  To his disgust, he soon realised from the stench that it wasn't a tentacle, but a large intestine slowly choking him.
He tried to keep his aim as the thing pulled him closer, strangling the raptor while making its own choking sounds.  Pulled nearer to the monster, he soon realised that the scars were actually mouths.  Hungry breathing mouths filled with teeth as deadly as a shark's, clamouring for their prey as the raptor was pulled closer.  The gnashing and chattering of toothy maws turned louder with each pull, seeing them all over the creature's body in random places.
Despite his choking panic, he aimed for the tentacle-like intestine's source, a fleshy noose around the neck, shooting at it point blank to try and sever the cord, pulling away when he successfully managed to.  Coughing hard as he tried to regain his breath, the creature soon slumped over and vomited dryly on the ground, heaving back filthy choking gasps before a final spasm.

With this in mind, the raptor quickly aimed for the other creature's neck and fired two bullets straight in, cutting the tentacle through, watching the other creature fall and asphyxiate from the loosening of its own noose.  It struggled and rubbed its body hard along the ground to try and get up, but no luck.  Soon it gasped its last breath, as the raptor reloaded his handgun.  Eight bullets left.
The radio however did not turn silent this time, its hissing screech now reduced to a slithery whimper.  More monsters up ahead, even in the darkness James could see their shambling forms.  He didn't want to get close to any of them, hoping he could find more ammo.  But then something else caught his attention.  A much larger outline in the darkened fog.
A huge building on his left, stately above the mist.  Another tentacle-intestine corpse was guarding it, alongside another police zombie.  James briefly wondered if these things even had names, as he readily aimed for them, taking out the tentacle creature first.  The darkness made him misfire, only alerting them to his position even moreso.
They shambled towards him, the tentacle reaching out towards him with a sickening swipe, trying to find its prey.  James did his best to aim, only managing to hit the extended reach of the intestinal limb, but not the neck.  He dodged around to his left, towards the choking armless cadaver first, firing straight into the throat and sending it dead.  He would stomp on it to finish it off, but the idea of corpse juice on his feet disgusted him.
Shooting the police-suited thing next, which had been far too useless to aid its companion in any way other than spewing its mace spray harmlessly into the night fog, James ran towards the large building in the distance, trying to find safety.  As he neared the entrance, the radio static slowly dying off almost in reverance of the structure, he realised it was a hospital.
	"Brookhaven...this must be it."
With the slightest hesitation, he opened the large plexiglassed doors and stepped inside.

James had not been in many hospitals in his life.  He had kept himself relatively healthy enough to avoid them.  A place like this however would be more fitting to call a morgue.  Unwashed filth-skinned floors, walls peeled with the colour of rotting teeth, the ceiling lights filled with dirt and filament.  There was no way such a place was still operational.
	"What the hell Luisa, this place is dead...how the fuck would ANYONE get treated here?"
Before him a receptionist's office and several doors lining two hallways that circled around the office.  Shrugging with resignation, he opened the receptionist's room.  The place was a mess, papers shoved into filing cabinets, trays with entry names peeled off, the raptor finding the place to be an insult.  Nevertheless, he examined the register in the hopes of finding something.
Various names had been scribbled into the logs, none of which he could read particularly well.  The latest entries however did reveal something.  Luisa did come here for her medicine.  Her last name however had been rendered illegible by some sort of water damage.  He also noted another much clearer name.  Francis Zack Gregson.
	"Now that is an awesome name."
These were the only two he could read in the entry, deciding not to write his own name down since it would be pointless in such a deteriorated institution.  Not like anyone was going to be around to tell him what not to do, like not walking into the receptionist's office to sift through private papers.  Nothing of interest was in them however, not even a key hidden among them, except for a map of the entire hospital which picked up, along with a pen as he left the office to investigate the many doors.
His pendant from Dar-Ma glistened gently in the darkness as he checked and failed to open several doors, all of them with seemingly broken locks.  He was starting to feel as if someone was preventing him from roaming too freely of his own will, when he managed to find one that opened, from the same central area the reception was apparently in.
An examination room, simple enough with a little bed to lie on and awfully cramped between a bare wall and a shelf full of various medical paraphernalia.  Nothing seemed to particularly stand out to the raptor, except for a door at the opposite end and a typewriter with a sheet of paper freshly typed out.  James had never even seen a typewriter before, but he could easily tell its purpose as he read the document.

[Michael Dawson]
Suffers from hallucinations of another dark world
which he describes in vague yet nevertheless
disturbing amounts of detail.
Hospitilisation came owing to a complete breakdown
concerning an attack on a police officer.
Dawson seems to be completely convinced of this
dark world beyond our own, having had to return back
to his family home and be watched over by his mother
in order to recover.
He seemed to cope well for two years after his "incident",
until the unfortunate murder of his friend Rita, which has
caused him to suffer a relapse.
This has affected him in several ways, such as having
sudden failings of self-confidence that prohibit him from
doing even the simplest tasks, as well as a drastic decrease
in his hand-eye coordination to the point of remedial.
Perhaps helping him recover this may offer some small
step of confidence for him.  Thankfully harmless.

Dr. Sawyer

Feeling thankful that at least one patient he might encounter would be completely harmless, James continued his search among the other open rooms, heading through the examination room to find a doctor's lounge.  It reminded him of the teacher's lounge from the orphanage, the rather spartan setup of coffee machines, sideboards and sofas circling one single table.  A fridge nearby offered no food, which made James realise he hadn't eaten for a bit.
The only other thing of note was a whiteboard with some various notes about meetings or door code changes, nothing that James particularly cared enough about to even glance over.  He did however note a small energy drink bottle on the table.  Shrugging at the fact it hadn't even been opened, he gently drank up, finding it to be rather delicious.
	"Mmmmm...apple.  Not bad."
Leaving the room, he headed back out into the halls and continued checking doors, each new door both frustrating and pleasing him.  On the one hand, to have one less area to search would save him time.  On the other hand, it was pissing him off.  The visiting room offered him some small hope when it opened, a set of chairs halfway along the walls as well as clustered together with a television hung up on the wall.
There was little to be had in terms of items to collect, other than a particularly shiny key on top of some papers he immediately spotted on a chair, swiping it to read the handle which said "Wards 1".  Pocketing it, he examined the papers underneath, various notices from hospital staff, presumably meant to be delivered by a secretary.

They were all rather official and bored him immensely, except for the one particular notice that had been beneath the key that warned him of the elevator malfunctioning.
	"Elevator panel's still broken, remember this code.  1 = 2, 2 = 1, 3 = 3...the hell does this mean?  Someone fucked up real bad."
Putting the papers back where they were, he headed out to the hallway again, the elevator taking his interest now as he pushed the button and it allowed him inside.  He was however hesitant to use it, so he merely looked at the panel and realised the purpose of the code.  Rolling his eyes, he left and headed towards the rest of the doors, all of them broken, even doors without keyholes.
Only one door remained for him.  The double-doors leading to the wards, securely locked but without a keyhole.  There was however a panel beside the door, with ten numbered buttons from 1 to 0, locked with a covering.  James found the key to work upon it, but now he had to figure out what the password was.  The only other thing of note was a note scribbled above the panel with three letters.  A R T.
	"Wha?  ...uhhh...the hell?"
The raptor stood in front of the keypad for a while, trying to remember how this could possibly make sense.  He noticed how it resembled a telephone's keypad and decided, on a whim, to spell out the word ART with 278.  A buzz rejected him.
	"Dammit this has to be connected...numbers...letters...uhhhhhh..."
Admittedly it took him a while to try and figure out a possible other solution.  Then he remembered where he had seen numbers elsewhere in the hospital, where he found the key.
	"Wait a minute...one equals two, two equals one..."
With nothing else to try, he put in 728 to spell out RAT.  The door surprisingly beeped with joy, making the raptor smile at his cleverness.
	"Hah!  No sweat...but, this isn't the elevator...god, fucking hospitals can't get anything right."

The hallway of the first floor wards was not particularly inviting, but neither was he too intimidated, when nothing came in sight.  Five wards to his left along the wall behind their individual doors, with two other rooms immediately near the door he had just entered from (which were broken-locked as he just found out).  Little else seemed to be around, other than one examination room door to his right in the hallway, as well as another door leading to a bathing area.  The hallway ended at a sharp turn right towards an elevator and some stairs.
James was starting to wonder just what kind of hospital this was.  Not that it mattered.  The only doors that weren't broken were ward rooms C1 and C4.  C1 contained nothing, much to James' disappointment until he spied upon a set of handgun bullets on a covered stretcher, grinning as he packed it away.  C4 he barely got the chance to look inside of when his radio suddenly screamed.
That was not enough to knock him off his feet, but the thick slimy tentacle squirming through the door opening was as he fell backwards, grabbing his gun from the satchel before realising that he forgot to reload it.  He had no time to do so when the tentacle slapped itself around his neck and squeezed tightly.  James started to struggle, shuddering and spasming on the floor as he tried to get up, but the tentacle was surprisingly strong enough to hold him down.
He choked and arched his back, flailing madly for some way out, unable to get his scissors as another tentacle from another creature behind the door stopped him.  Now he was restrained while choking to death, eyes bulging slightly with tongue gasping as he coughed and struggled.
He raised his arm towards the creature, trying to focus on doing something, anything, something with fire at least to just force it away while he choked violently.  His breaths turned heaving, his throat turned tighter and his neck muscles stiffened in their utmost best to give him more time.  James focused every ounce of mental energy into a blast of fire from his hands before managing to will enough focus to do so.

The creature roared with a strangled gasping sound as it felt the full brunt of a flamethrower blast straight at its face, burning through the tentacle around its neck easily so.  The stench was horrendous when it did, a thickening chunky dark ooze that James crawled away from the moment he was free.  Tearing the tentacle's remnant from his body as he breathed heavily back into his lungs, he went for his scissors and pulled the other intestine-wearing cadaver close with the tentacle around his arm before skewering it brutally.
As much as he hated getting near such disgusting things, he wasted no time in plunging the scissors right through the neck, forcing the monster to impale its throat upon it before kicking it away.  The radio turned silent when he made sure the one with the burnt-face was dead, stepping over their corpses into Room C4.
The room was empty, much to his frustration save for the various body-sized sheet-covered lumps on stretchers placed indeterminately around the place.  There was a lot of them in the wards, too many to be unsuspicious.  James could only wonder what sort of terrible incident had occurred here.  All was not entirely lost however when he found another apple-coloured energy drink, and two boxes of handgun bullets.
This reminded him to immediately reload his pistol before moving on.

The first floor wards did not offer anything else to the raptor, who sighed at the loneliness bearing down upon him.  The elevator did not work, and he was tempted to go back to the one in the main hall to head upwards.  With nowhere else on the first floor to go, he did just that.  As he walked back towards the main hall however, he heard the elevator start up.
By the time he re-entered the main entrance, he heard it already rising upwards to the second floor.  Someone else must be here!  He had to follow after them.  He waited until the elevator stopped before pressing the button to call it back.  Eventually it cluttered and groaned its way back down with laborious speed, opening before him.
Remembering the elevator code, he pressed the button for the first floor, successfully lifted upwards to the second.  What should have been some relief for him was immediately shattered by the sound of the radio.  He was starting to hate that thing, but it was the only way he could sense danger in the form of more police-clothed corpses outside the elevator doors.

Panicking slightly about facing them in close quarters, he immediately drew his handgun and fired at the shambling cadavers before they had a chance to mace him again.  The darkness of the second floor did not help matters, even the first floor had some form of ambient light still working.  But up here, he felt even more alone in the dark.
Hearing the radio scream its warning to him, as well as the creatures come closer, he could only try and listen out for which way they were coming from in the smaller second floor.  Their steps sounded like body bags being dragged across gravel.  The fact that he even knew such a sound terrified him far more than he expected when he shakily fired and missed one of them.
The temporary blast of light from the handgun however gave him enough to see at least two of them, trying to do his best to aim for the chest and then for the head to realign his sight at the next light-up of gunfire.  So far, two down, out of what he guessed were four.  One of them however got quite close and made the telltale retching sound of a mace spray attack.
The slightest feel of breath coming from his right made him turn and fire straight into its head, narrowly avoiding the gas to his eyes, but some of which hit his mouth with a vile sting.  He was temporarily stunned as he started to retch from the vile odourless spray, making him dry heave against the elevator door to the point of falling onto his knees.

He had only ever been hit by such gas once, and it was a feeling he never forgot, the price to pay for being an unruly punk illegally speeding.  He had no remedy for it, and did his best to tolerate it and stand up to find and kill the fourth one.  Then, as he stepped out of the elevator, one came up behind him from the corridor just around the corner.
Instead of vomiting its tear gas upon him however, it grabbed onto James' shoulder with its teeth, gnashing with crooked teeth and trying to unbalance the raptor, the sharp vile jaws tearing into his skin from the gravity of their fall.  It even started trying to beat the raptor's face in with its thick black truncheon, a nasty sounding crunch upon his snout.  He yelled as he ended up falling awkwardly, hard on his side with a disgusting ill-skinned body writhing on top of him that tried to keep biting and beating his shoulder or neck.
He did his best to fight it off, pistol-whipping the monster across the jaw before firing straight into its face, covering himself somewhat with its thick black blood.
	"FUCK YOU-ARRRGH!"
The worst part of it however was the fact that the blood spurt began to turn hot like molten gravel, stinging him strongly.  Quickly throwing the police zombie-thing off of him, he desperately ran for a door, somewhere to clean himself as the blood began to boil on his skin, turning at first uncomfortable, but soon becoming unbearable, hot and sticky.  The corridor that curved around the back of the elevator lead down a hallway with two locker rooms, a nurse's station and a linen room.

He desperately tried the men's locker room to find it broken, roaring from frustration and the gnawing pain of the ebony blood dripping on his shoulder and cheeks.
	"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT OPEN RAAAAARRRGH!"
The pain was turning even worse, he could feel his muscles start to sting and make him flinch at the feeling of this monster's blood somehow eating away slowly at his smooth-pebbled scales.  All was not lost however when he kicked open the women's locker room, thankful for it to be open.  He was even more thankful to find a soap dispenser on the wall, the fast-drying kind for utmost hygienic purposes.
He quickly poured some onto his hands and washed the blood off, the stinging pain making him flinch and bite his lip, feeling as if it was eating away at his skin.  Somehow the soap counteracted it, bizarrely, and managed to clean the blood off, the stinging heat replaced by a cooling warmth.  He also noticed that the radio had turned silent, sensing no danger, allowing him to calm down and relax.  His wounds were not too deep, but they were a little tender.
	"God...dammit...alright...we're okay now...just gotta find whoever came up here."
First things first, he examined the room he was in, hoping the women's locker room had something useful to help him with.  It was a small locker room, eight on each side, a sitting bench in the middle, a small table with various feminine toiletries, all of which were clearly outdated.  This only made James wonder all the more why Luisa would ever mention this place as a viable place of interest.
Unless she was talking about scrounging for information and medical supplies like some kind of junkie, not that James was above that if the place was clearly abandoned, but it wasn't what he was expecting.  None of the lockers opened except for three.  One used locker had a note pinned on the inside of the door about a date, something he found rather cute...until he saw the back of the note.

P.S 
bring Thor with you for tonight, I miss my big rubber boy <3

	"Oooohoohoohoo, SOMEONE'S a kinky bitch...mmmm...man who was the last girl I met who was bi?  Jennie was...nah we never got on."
Grinning at the little window into someone's sexual life, he made a note of the name on the door, Bonnie Danson, and closed the locker door.  Another one marked Rita Danvers, was perfectly empty, as if it had been never used or cleaned out.  The last one, marked for Jackie Appson, had a big surprise.
	"Ohhh...hell...yes."
A rifle, propped up inside the locker, sitting in its very own leather-strap holster.  James immediately grabbed it out of boyish enthusiasm to wield a big weapon, feeling along its perfectly well-maintained body.  The rifle butt was well-varnished, the loading chamber perfectly oiled, and there was even some rifle bullets in the locker just waiting to be fired.
	"Oh you fucking beauty."
He could barely whisper his excitement at handling such a powerful weapon, quickly strapping it onto him over his own scissor-scabbard, feeling invincible with such a big weapon on his back.  The rifle sat opposite of the scissors, the butt peeking over his left shoulder to the scissor handles' looking over his right, the strap holsters crossing over each other into an X.

He was ready to fuck shit up so bad, he was even mentally begging the town to throw another monster at him to kill, wanting to test it out badly.  But for now he decided to just leave the locker room and check the other doors, realising that he actually didn't have many bullets for the rifle, only six.  He would save them for the bigger ones.  The nurse's station door was broken, unsurprisingly, but the linen room wasn't.  A small laundry room full of bedsheets, some of which still had to be cleaned of patients' various fluids.
Somewhat disgusted, he briefly examined over the machines and cupboards for anything of interest, before he noticed something shiny inside the tumble dryer.  His natural weakness for all things shiny flared up inside him, and he tried to pull open the door, only to find it completely rusted shut.  He didn't dare turn the thing on either in case he damaged whatever was inside, but he guessed it to be a key.  And he really wanted that key.
	"Now how do you get a key out of this thing?"
He briefly contemplated shooting the door out with his rifle, but realised that firstly he did not want to waste bullets, and secondly that it might damage the key.  He decided to leave the key alone for now, until he had another plan.  Instead, he made his way to the second floor wards, another longer hallway of darkness than the first floor.
So far no monsters were in the corridor, his radio keeping silent.  He first opened the exam room that was immediately to his right along the wall, just past the door he entered from.  Much to his surprise, it was not entirely empty when his eye caught sight of two things.  A small pristine first aid kit, travel size, sitting on the shelf of a cabinet, and another typewriter with a message left on it.  The writer hadn't taken the time to use punctuation or capitals.

i didnt kill rita i know i didnt
i just have to find a way to prove it
i found a door just like my closet door back home
but i bet its locked all the same maybe even with the same key
mom said it was an invisible key only she had
i never even tried to open it im pretty sure its locked though

	"Rita...Rita...wait that was one of those names in the locker room.  Come to think of it, wasn't there a report downstairs about her and some guy?"
His memory slowly ticked together, wondering how a patient had managed to make friends with a nurse, and when their friendship was cultivated.  Regardless, it didn't answer the question of why the patient had left such a message, as he went back to the hallway.
Six doors to different wards were along the left side of the hallway, three of them broken-locked, one simply locked and two allowing him inside.  One open room, marked M4, had nothing inside.  The other, marked M5, contained one enemy as his radio so happily alerted him to.  He had been keeping his guard with a hand on his satchel to quickly whip out his handgun, and for once he had no trouble dispatching the lone beast before it even had a chance to swing its baton.
Another one of the police zombies.  With a moment of peace to himself, he examined the body out of curiosity, thinking up a good name for it.  On closer inspection, he saw that it had hairy feet, almost cloven.  The scar in the stomach he avoided to not get sprayed, as he looked at the blinded carved-in face.
	"Heh...you're like a blind pig.  HAH, pig.  Yeah that's what you fuckers are."
Smiling at his little neologism, he examined the rest of the room, another set of sheet-covered stretchers and medical paraphernalia.  He did however notice something on a table.  Two things even.  A small clip-on rectangular flashlight turned off, and a keycard.  The name was scratched out badly, as was the photo, but he could make out at least one word.

	"Bell?  Hmmm..."
He decided to pocket it regardless before leaving, finding the town all the more curious for leaving him such odd items to figure out solutions, if this was anything like Woodside Apartments.  He tried not to make comparisons, in case it summoned that terrible demon from before.  
He clipped the flashlight to the front of his scabbard, finding it quite the snug fit, and turned it on to light his way.  Full battery.  Perfect, like a miner's hat but at chest-height.  With some fortune smiling upon him, he left room M5, and walked to the end of the hallway to the final door of M6.  It was locked, and it demanded a key.
His only other option was another elevator in the hallway, with a staircase that was also broken-locked.  The elevator did not respond for some reason, so he made his way back to the other one that he knew was still working.  As he approached the elevator however, it began to whir and ping with the arrival of its passenger.  He quickly brought out his gun, and waited.  Soon he saw a black suit walk slowly out from around the lift doors before shouting:
	"Stop right there!  Put your hands up!"
The stranger did as he was told, wisely, and walked slowly out into full view of the raptor.  An anthro fox, wearing a very official suit.  His eyes looked tired, and he had a small white stick poking out of his snout.  The fox spoke with hands still up.
	"You the authorities here?"
	"Yeah, for now."  Might as well pretend, thought FG smugly.  Give 'em a taste of their own medicine.
	"Ahh good, what's your badge number sir?"
	"...does that matter?"
	"If you want to conduct business then yes."
	"Well why don't you tell me who the hell you are?"  The fox tipped his head and smiled with a knowing grin.
	"Detective Francis Zack Gregson.  FBI."