This happened two summers ago, when I was new to the job and working a night shift at the hospital.

That night, I was handling patients in the emergency room. Several ambulances came in, and one of the patients was a regular at our hospital. The duty doctor asked for their medical chart, so I headed over to the internal medicine clinic to retrieve it.

The ER and the internal medicine clinic were quite far apart, about a five-minute walk. Since it was late, the lights leading to the clinic were completely off, so I had to grab a flashlight. Even though I was used to working in hospitals, I couldn't help feeling a bit creeped out as I walked.

I finally made it, opened the clinic door, and turned on the lights. Hospitals at night are truly eerie. Because so many people have passed away there, you become hyper-sensitive to the idea of ghosts. Desperately trying to focus on happy thoughts—like what I'd do on my next day off—I searched for the chart. Once I found it and turned to leave, I noticed another chart lying on the floor in front of the door I'd opened earlier. Looking closely, I saw it belonged to someone named Yamanaka.

Was this chart lying here before? I wondered, placing it back where it seemed to belong. At that exact moment—

Ringgg!

The phone rang. A call to internal medicine at this hour...? Puzzled, I picked it up, only for a whispering voice to say, '...Look at it...' Terrified, I bolted out of the clinic without looking back. I ran back to the ER and told my senior coworker everything. They turned pale and told me a story from years ago.

There used to be a resident doctor named Yamanaka at this hospital. One night during his shift, he hanged himself in the restroom—dead, with a wide smile on his face.

Was that voice really Dr. Yamanaka? If so, what on earth did he want me to look at? And what was written inside that medical chart...?