Many questions filled Mikel's mind as he lay down to rest.
"What was that screen all about?" he wondered aloud. "I think it says he's Doom or something. Is it really just the medicines?"
A heavy sigh escaped Mikel as he closed his eyes. "Never mind that. It's gone, so I guess it's all in my head."
If not, he could just think about it later.
Deciding it was not worth dwelling on, Mikel heard footsteps approaching his ward. Peeking, he caught sight of a child standing by the door, looking at him curiously.
"Hm?" Arching a brow, he studied the kid. "What?"
The child pursed his lips into a thin line, walking closer until he was several steps from Mikel's bed.
Mikel's vision was still a little blurry, but it was better than in the past weeks. He could see the child wasn't in a patient gown, indicating he was wandering around while his parents were probably dealing with medical matters.
"Shoo," Mikel clicked his tongue, treating the child like a stray puppy. "Don't wander around near sick people."
The child blinked innocently. "Big Brother, what are you doing here?"
"For fun."
"But it's not fun here."
"That's the point."
Mikel winced a little, realizing sarcasm wasn't something a child would easily grasp.
"Where are your parents?" he asked, only to hear the child's confused response, "I don't know."
"Do you see that lady in the white uniform over there?" Mikel pointed at the nurse outside the door, talking to another. "Ask her to help you find your parents. They'll be able to locate them for you."
While Mikel was occupied instructing the child, his ward mate — an elderly man with hearing difficulties — observed Mikel with a smile on his face. Despite his deep wrinkles and deteriorating vision, he couldn't help tilting his head in curiosity.
He watched Mikel talking to himself.
"Go," Mikel gestured toward the door.
"Thank you, Big Brother!" the child smiled brightly and turned to leave.
"What a parent that one's got," Mikel murmured as he watched the child approach the nurses. Then the elderly man who shared the ward with Mikel spoke up.
"Kid, who were you talking to?"
"Huh?" Mikel turned to the elderly man. "Well, a kid seemed lost and was looking for his parents."
The elderly man tilted his head. "But there was no kid."
"Trying to scare me now, grandpa?" Mikel scowled. "And also, now you can hear me?"
"Hospitals have more wandering spirits than cemeteries," the old man said suddenly, his voice low. "They're lost… confused… They don't even know they're dead. And just like the living, some of them aren't so nice."
During the three months Mikel had been there, his only roommate had been this elderly man. The man had been there longer than Mikel, and he was starting to get used to the old man's random comments.
"Ghosts don't scare me," Mikel said dismissively. "But that kid was just lost, that's all."
Still, the elderly man's words lingered in his mind, playing tricks on him. Mikel might not be afraid of ghosts because he didn't believe in them, but it was still a bit creepy.
"Say, grandpa, did you really not see that kid?" he asked out of curiosity.
The elderly man sighed. "Kid, they say hospitals have more wandering spirits than cemeteries…"
Hearing the elderly man repeat himself, Mikel's face twitched.
Mikel let the senile old man ramble on about spirits, ghosts, and the afterlife.
"The end is coming sooner than you think. You should repent and surrender yourself to the Lord, kid."
Mikel cast him a sidelong glance and shook his head, refocusing his attention on the ceiling. The old man continued to speak, perhaps more talkative than he had ever been since Mikel arrived.
I guess… I'll be going home soon. The end of this journey is approaching, that's for sure.
Slowly, he turned to the old man and smiled a bit.
He kind of grew on me, though.
Time passed as usual, with Mikel and the old man sharing their small television to pass the time. Every so often, the old man would talk about anything, causing Mikel to repeat himself in a louder voice.
Staying in the hospital for months on end made one accustomed to the routine of doing nothing and nurses checking on them. There was nothing to look forward to, at least for Mikel, whose recovery was progressing more brightly.
As night fell, the lights in their ward dimmed. The darker the sky grew, the quieter the night became.
Mikel yawned and glanced at the old man. He stared at the old man for a while until he could see his chest moving up and down weakly.
"Guess he's not dying tonight," he yawned again, feeling his eyes grow watery.
Sleep soon overtook him, quietly lulling him into slumber. But while he slept deeply, faint noises began to ring in his ears. They weren't enough to wake him until something tickled his nostrils — as if someone were brushing it with a feather.
"Hm." Mikel irritably touched his nose, but the sensation persisted, this time on his cheek.
Wiping his cheek in his sleep, he turned his head slightly for comfort. However, he couldn't completely turn to this side as something heavy pressed down on him.
"Mikel," a whisper caressed his ear. "Oh, Mikel."
His brows furrowed as he groaned, but the playful whispers continued, slowly rousing him from his slumber. When he felt something wet in his ear, as if someone had licked his earlobe, his eyes suddenly snapped open.
But before he could react, he froze.
A face loomed inches from his.
A woman crouched on his chest, her weight crushing his breath. Her long, tangled black hair draped over his face like wet threads. Her mouth stretched unnaturally wide to her jaw, revealing a set of crooked, mud-caked teeth. A string of saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth onto Mikel's cheek. Her eyes glowed — not like lights, but like dying coals — hollow, hungry, and full of hate.
Mikel's hand instinctively shot up, grabbing the fingers dancing along his neck. "What —" he choked as her cold hands squeezed around his throat.
Her light giggle made every hair on his body stand on end, and she spoke in an eerie, almost breathless voice,
"Shaaaaaman… die."