The feeling is inexplicable. It was like drinking a soda after wandering in the desert for a long time. I felt every fiber of my being reborn, moistening, fanning itself like the fire of a bonfire. It was pleasant, a lot, and without realizing it, I squeezed the bag to fill my mouth more with that liquid, causing the high vacuum pack to break in several places, spilling more liquid on my hands, which started to run down my forearms and until my elbows, dripping a little on my dress. I drank until the last drop that I could squeeze out of the bag and when I finished I wasn’t so thirsty, but I wanted to keep eating, I wanted to fill myself completely with vein juice, I wanted to feel gluttonous, I wanted to keep feeling what I was feeling. I took another bag, which I quickly emptied in my throat without much care, causing my lips to fill with thick liquid, which began to make its way to my chin, and when I finished with that one, I grabbed another one that I preferred to open in one bite, making everything worse. And so, I packed five bags between my chest and back, managing to be barely satisfied, and I didn’t understand why.

In my food frenzy, I had dropped to the ground, resting my back on the sink. The bags surrounded me and I reached one out with one hand, carefully reading the label It had stuck on, learning in the process that it wasn’t completely blood, but carried a small amount of anticoagulant. I buffet, I had drunk two and a half liters of liquid, but I hadn’t consumed two and a half liters of blood. I looked around, examining the disaster I had made. The bags had stained the linoleum, creating small puddles of carmine, and almost all the ground was dotted. My arms were stained with blood already beginning to dry, and I didn’t have to see my face to know I had blood everywhere. Sighing, I got up and started picking things up quickly. I threw the bags into the sink and turned on the tap, placing my hands under the powerful jet of water, taking away all traces of the crime that hadn’t dried yet. As for the spots on my arms, I had to carve repeatedly to get rid of all evidence. I had had to clean small wounds before, but this was ridiculous because of how hard and laborious it was. I felt sorry for the murderers and I remembered a sentence I had read in a book: "killing not only condemns you forever, but killing means work", or something similar. I also had to take off my dress and rub the cloth against itself again and again, in small areas, under the water, until the stains of a live ruby turned into a pale pink. I paid attention then to the bags that still contained a small amount of liquid inside, there was no trash can there, so I would have to take them with me. I carefully pulled out two white plastic bags from underneath and stuffed the others, going back to the freezer to take five more bags, and when I turned back to return to the sink I regretted and took another three. I put the bags carefully, making a simple knot to the bag underneath, leaving the second to be able to hold it. Then I concentrated on the ground. It wasn’t so stained, but certainly someone could guess that someone who had dedicated to play with the blood bags. Sighing again, I took a boat, a sponge and an atomizer and I knelt down to clean the floor, taking advantage of my new view to locate until the minimum scarlet drop, trying to clean the soles of my feet too. After that I just threw the water and put everything back in its place.

Holding my bag gently to avoid breaking it, I used a piece of my dress, still slightly wet, to take the knob on the door. When I opened it, I could hear the girl from before, who was still upset, and who said that a corpse had risen and now wandered through the hospital, to which a male voice told her to come to her senses, that there should be a reasonable explanation, either it was someone who hadn’t died before being dragged to the morgue, or was someone who had slipped inside.

-But it can’t be possible, Adam! I checked that corpse when it arrived, and it had a big bite on the neck! The police said it was an animal attack and I didn’t think it was weird! Melina cleaned the body and left it for me to examine it, but when I opened her drawer, it was no longer inside the bag and the wound in her neck was gone! You can ask Charles and Diana; I went straight with them to talk about it!

I frowned, had I been inside a bag? It sounded the most logical. Whoever had entered for my things, had also taken me out of my bag. As for the bite, it was funny, I had seen myself before in the store door and I hadn’t realized that the wound wasn’t there, also, it had never occurred to me to focus on what I heard to know what they were talking about.

–But calm down, you're a doctor, use your brain, that's impossible - the same man replied, Adam. - Maybe somehow someone replaced the body when you weren’t there, I talked to them and they say they weren’t in the morgue for at least three hours. At that time, someone could have stolen the body and replaced it with another. Why? I do not know, but it seems the most logical. It was covered in blood when they brought it, right? - A short pause in which she should have nodded. - Then it’s possible that they were not the same person, which supports my theory.

-Or maybe she's right - a different voice answered, another woman, in a cold and calculating tone, which made me frown again as a sign of distrust. I couldn’t smell her emotions yet, because they were on the other side of the aisle, but I could bet they weren’t good.

I had the slight feeling that she knew exactly what was happening.

I denied, I couldn’t stay longer. I closed the door in the same way to erase my tracks and looked around, if my sense of direction didn’t fail me, if I continued right to the left, then I turned again to the left and went straight, I had to find myself again in the same corridor that led to the morgue. With that new suspicion, I couldn’t risk having my identity discovered. I would try to find the file, which was usually on the first floor, according to my knowledge, and steal my file, if I had one, and certainly I had one, because when I left the hostel I had my identification, which now should have the police.

Once again, and with my eyes now violet, I let my nose guide me, where I may recognize the aroma of the paper, or something similar, in large quantities. I walked for a while and passed several doctors and nurses, who looked at me curiously, wondering what I was doing there, but not free enough to do something about it, I could guess by their smell. I didn’t cross paths with the girl from the morgue, nor with her companions, but I did come across a soda machine, and next to it, bless my luck, an ice machine. I quickly placed the bag on the machine and opened its lid, taking with the shovel inside enough ice. With the other hand I untied the second bag and carefully poured the ice on the bags, which still smelled the same. I did it three times before I got away from there, now at least I wouldn’t have to worry about the blood, however, every time I was more tired, and although it wasn’t something that worried me very much, it was irritating.

I turned left again in the last corridor, and miraculously found what I wanted: the doors that read "Only authorized personnel and visitors, from 10am to 3pm.", at the top, and then I understood why I was so out of place. At the end of the corridor, passing stairs of both directions, I could see a window, which revealed a complete blackness for humans, for me, revealing that the dawn was not too far away, and that surely worried me.