Quickly, I observed my surroundings, looking for security cameras, or a guard in the surveillance post that rested behind those doors. Nothing. Of course, it wasn’t curious, and it wasn’t out of place either, it made sense that no one was watching the restricted area at 4 o'clock in the morning, if nobody outside the hospital was inside. With one exception, obviously.

I went forward to push the door with my knuckles, trying to leave as few fingerprints as possible, however, before reaching them I regretted, turning on myself, looking with my eyes some utensil that would help me cover my identity. It was one thing to walk around the hospital, doing nothing, getting uncomfortable glances from the doctors and nurses I had run into, as I went, but another thing was to enter the file, which surely must be completely guarded, and steal my file. What would I say to the receptionist? "Hey, yes, I want to withdraw my file, if you already have it, because I'm dead, but really I’m not, and I'm afraid someone will find out." It didn’t seem like a feasible thing to say. Then I had to find something that would allow me to do and undo ay my will.

With quick steps, I went to the nearest room, where the smell of illness and medicines made my nose constipate, if that was possible. Again, with the method of dress, I turned the knob and before me appeared a spacious room, with a single stretcher, which had a lean figure, with white skin, similar to mine, except that hers was translucent, letting guess the veins that lay beneath the dermis. She was a woman who seemed to be a little younger than me. She was connected to a series of devices on the side of her stretcher, which I imagined kept her alive. She had no hair and her face reflected decay. I wrinkled my forehead. That poor woman must have cancer of some kind, and now she was prostrate in that place, until death came to her. What should she have done to deserve that? I asked myself as I stood in the middle of the room, forgetting what I had come for in the first place. I observed better her small, stunted figure, with very thin extremities, and the vapor that formed in her oxygen mask. I found then the fact that a vampire could easily get involved in a thought, in a figure, in anything, analyzing it in depth. I really could have stared at that woman for a long time, finding more and more details that no human could have guessed.

I denied, I had to hurry. I knelt by her side, rummaging through the small blue and metal bureau she had, where a vase of flowers rested. Was that allowed? I questioned myself as I pulled on a pack of mouth covers and took out one carefully. I stood up and gave the girl one last look, startling me instantly. Her eyes were open, and they stared at me, black as night, but slightly cloudy, as if they didn’t really see me.

- Are you Death? - She asked weakly, and I was sure that, had I been mortal, I wouldn’t have even heard her. I didn’t know how to answer her, she had me totally disconcerted. - You are, you've come for me at last - she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. - Please, do it now... I'm ready.

I looked at her then with nostalgia. What she said was true, in a way, now I was the walking death, with the power to tear life away from any living being, procuring a longer life for myself. That gave me hope. I had never been a violent person, not out of range at least, and in general, I had always sought to help people. I could then choose to feed on those unfortunates who no longer agreed to continue breathing. Although…

I nodded once, still losing myself in her onyx eyes. The girl smiled, sighed and closed her eyes, settling herself well on her stretcher. I knelt next to each device, disconnecting it from the source of electricity. I took her hand delicately, removing the vital signs monitor that she carried on her finger. I also zapped as I could, each cable from the same devices, which were connected to her, making it more difficult for them to bring her back to life. Finally, I moved her oxygen mask and, leaning into her ear, I whispered a "Rest".

When I opened the door to leave, I heard only a "Thank you", soon drowned out by the click of the door when it closed. I didn’t turn around, even when my ear caught the signs of her death, like the stretcher shaking slightly, product of her struggle to breathe, surely. I focused my mind on what I should do and finally put on my mouths cover, pushing the doors with my knuckles, as I had planned. I walked towards the stairs, re-analyzing the distant windows, which showed more and more the light of dawn, imperceptible to all those who weren’t like me.

Behind me, I heard a doctor talk about the girl with cancer. He was still a corridor away. What would he do when he saw his patient cold, dead? I didn’t want to imagine it, nor think much about it, because, although I had the power to give rest to those who wanted it, I would also have to endure losing all my family and my friends as time passed, sure, if I decided come back and live among them, and increasingly I thought it would be impossible. My family would never know what had happened to me. It was painful, but it was reality.

When I went down the stairs as fast as I could, I already had tears, which I didn’t know I could let go, running down my cheeks.