For years, nurses assigned to a comatose patient named Ricardo had inexplicably started becoming pregnant. One by one, without warning, their pregnancies surfaced—leaving Dr. Emanuel, the physician in charge, both baffled and alarmed. Determined to uncover the truth, he installed a hidden camera in Ricardo’s room. What he witnessed made his blood run cold.
“My stomach… I feel dizzy…” Nurse Jessica whispered, clutching her abdomen. She bolted down the sterile hospital corridor, leaving behind only the echo of hurried footsteps. Dr. Emanuel froze, heart pounding, unable to look away.
Room 208 was silent, Ricardo’s body motionless under the white sheets, hooked to machines that quietly beeped. Emanuel whispered to himself, Please, don’t let it be what I think…
When Jessica returned moments later, her composure had returned, but her eyes betrayed lingering unease.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“A little… nausea,” she admitted. “I can continue.”
She moved toward Ricardo to replace the IV, but a sudden sharp pain doubled her over. She vomited on the cold tile floor, mortified. Emanuel rushed to support her.
“Jessica, you can’t work like this! What’s really happening?”
She shook her head, insisting it was nothing. He held her arms firmly. “No. Right now, you focus on yourself. I’ll handle Ricardo. Nurse Tamara will take over here.”
As Tamara entered, Emanuel noticed something unsettling: her uniform stretched over a clearly pregnant belly, already showing five months. Tamara exchanged a fleeting, almost imperceptible look with Jessica, a secret unspoken but understood.
In Emanuel’s office, Jessica protested as he prepared a pregnancy test. “Doctor, I don’t—there’s no way. I’m not involved with anyone. I swear.”
Emanuel’s gaze was unwavering. “Jessica… you’re not the first nurse assigned to this room. Tamara, Violeta, all of you… all single, all without partners… and yet all became pregnant. We need to know why.”
Reluctantly, she agreed to the test. The results were undeniable: positive. Jessica’s hands flew to her head. She had no explanation. Emanuel’s mind raced, but one thing was clear: the pattern repeated, every nurse who approached Ricardo’s bedside became pregnant under mysterious circumstances.
The doctor returned to Room 208, heart pounding. Both Tamara and Violeta stood by Ricardo, their hands instinctively cradling their bellies. Emanuel’s voice trembled, equal parts awe and fear:
“Tell me the truth. What happens in this room when I’m not looking? Who… or what… is responsible?”
The two nurses exchanged a loaded glance, but remained silent. The secret of Ricardo’s decade-long coma—and the inexplicable pregnancies of those who cared for him—hung thick in the air.
To understand the mystery, Emanuel had to step back months earlier. When Ricardo arrived at the hospital, he had been in a coma for nearly ten years. Doctors expected frail muscles, atrophied limbs, and wasting of the body. But upon inspection, Ricardo appeared impossibly healthy—skin vibrant, muscles firm, as if he were simply resting.
Tamara, assigned as his primary nurse, marveled alongside Emanuel. “Doctor… I don’t understand it. How is this possible?”
“I don’t either,” Emanuel admitted. “There are things here science cannot explain… perhaps miracles. But we’ll monitor him closely. Every test, every scan.”
Little did he know, giving Tamara full responsibility for Ricardo would later become the source of an unimaginable mystery, entwining the lives of his nurses forever.
Months later, the eerie pattern revealed itself. Any nurse who cared for Ricardo became pregnant, without romance, without consent, without explanation. Emanuel stood at the threshold of Room 208 once again, heart heavy. Tamara and Violeta, both pregnant, watched him silently.
He finally spoke, voice shaking:
“The signs are clear… but how? Who—or what—could do this?”
No one answered. The room, and the decade-long secret it harbored, remained a riddle beyond understanding.