Symptoms of the Unseen

As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the hospital room, Harry and Lloyd settled in for what promised to be a long and uneventful evening. They had spent the day undergoing various tests and examinations, and the doctors had been keeping a close eye on them. But as the hours ticked by, Harry started to feel a growing sense of discomfort. At first, it was just a slight tickle in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow, but it felt like there was a lump stuck in his throat. He cleared his throat, thinking it would help, but the sensation only grew worse. He tried to drink some water, but it felt like he was swallowing sand. Lloyd, on the other hand, was feeling a different kind of discomfort. He was suddenly and inexplicably hungry. He looked around the hospital room, searching for something, anything, to eat. He spotted a box of cookies on the nurse's station counter and his eyes widened with excitement. "Hey, Harry, check it out," Lloyd said, his voice low and gravelly. "Cookies." Harry looked over at him, concerned. "Dude, you're not even supposed to be eating solid foods yet." Lloyd didn't care. He tossed off his covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes fixed on the cookies. "I'm starving, Harry. I need to eat." As Lloyd made his way to the nurse's station, Harry couldn't help but notice that his friend seemed... different. His movements were jerky and unpredictable, and his eyes seemed to be gleaming with an unnatural intensity. Lloyd returned with the cookies, devouring them in seconds. But as he finished, he let out a low groan. "Harry, my muscles are cramping up something fierce." Harry looked at him, worried. "Maybe it's the meds or something. I'll call the nurse." But as Lloyd started to walk back to his bed, Harry noticed that his friend's gait was off. His legs seemed to be twitching and spasming, and his eyes were rolling back in his head. The nurse came in, responding to Harry's call for help. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice calm and professional. Lloyd was writhing in agony, his body contorting in ways that seemed impossible. "My muscles... they're on fire," he gasped. The nurse quickly assessed the situation and called for the doctor. As they waited for him to arrive, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. The symptoms that Lloyd and he were experiencing seemed to be escalating by the minute, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were indeed victims of some kind of virus. The doctor arrived, and his expression was grim. "We need to run some more tests," he said. "And we need to do it now." As the doctor and nurse worked to stabilize Lloyd, Harry couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. What was happening to them? And how much longer could they hold on to their humanity?