The pool of blood on the floor is huge, stretching from the kitchen floor to the carpet in the living room under the couch. Ace had seen dead animals bleed out, but this was nothing close. Humans were bigger and had more blood. There was too much blood on the floor for the person to be alive. And the blood had poured out of their neck, a vital spot. Ace looks up slowly.

Despite his shaking hands, Ace notices the similarities between the old man crouching down. Strands of long gray hair that started at the back of his head, leaving the front bald. Right where a gaping hole was, blood pouring down his face and on the collar of his shirt. Just like the old man lying still on the ground. 

“Hey”.

Ace doesn’t know why he said something.

“We gotta go”.

But where?  He hesitates before reaching out a hand to the older man. 

The older man gets to his feet, huffing and puffing and takes off down the hallway shouting, “Allie!”.

Ace goes after the man.

The old man stops at a door down the hall, and fumbles with the doorknob. His hand slides through it. Ace tries to pull him back but his own hands go through the man’s body. Ace recoils, clutching his hands to his chest remembering the man is now dead. “Sorry” rolls out of his mouth on instinct.  What’s in front of him is supposed to pass on to what comes after death.

Ace watches the man struggle with the doorknob. Yelling with tears streaming down his face. He recognizes the face, a neighbor of his, Mr. Wilson. An older man married with adult kids and grandkids, if his memory is correct. 

Family. A little girl had called out for her grandpa. 

“Mr. Wil-” his voice dies as Mr. Wilson slams his palms on the door and just falls through it. 

“Right. He’s dead. That makes sense.” Ace tries to calm himself, looking back into the living room where Mr. Wilson’s dead body is resting. The police should be here soon. He closes his hand around the doorknob and pushes it open. 

“Allie!”. Mr. Wilson is trying to yank the covers off of a shaking lump. Princess covers. There are Princess posters all around the room, dolls tossed across the carpet. A tea set at a little table with a crushed apple juice pouch on it.

“I’m right here Allie! Can’t you hear me!?”

Ace turns his eyes from the room to the man kneeling on the floor, trying to comfort his granddaughter. He falls to his knees next to the man. The covers stop shaking. He can hear her sniffling. 

Mr. Wilson wraps his arms around his granddaughter, giving Ace a glare that promises a world of hurt if he makes a wrong move. Ace keeps the stare. “I’m not going to hurt her”.

Mr. Wilson’s eyes go wide.

Ace gently lifts the blanket, hands stopping when she scoots back. “I’m not going to hurt you Allie. I promise.” he lifts it all the way up. 

Her eyes are red. She has snot all over her face, down to her chin. And she doesn’t trust him. Not with how she backs up even more. 

He sits back, watching her. “I saw someone run out. They’re not coming back. They’re not gonna hurt you.”

Her eyes dart to the door but she doesn’t say anything. 

“The police are on the way.” He looks around her room again.

“What about grandpa?”.

Ace forces himself to breathe. His eyes go to her and he sees himself. A child scared. So many questions and no answers. Mr. Wilson doesn’t offer any help, looking between Ace and Allie. So Ace stops looking at him as if he will solve the mess they’re in. 

“The police will- they … uh. Let’s wait for them.”

“Allie, I’m right here. Grandpa is here”. Mr. Wilson wraps his arms around her, trying to pull her in close. He’s crying. 

Ace feels like crying too. 

She can’t see you, Mr. Wilson.

Ace remembers the elderly man from the few times they waved in the hallway to each other. He regrets not trying to make friends, a little bit.

“My name is William. But I go by Ace. That’s what my mom called me”.

Allie nodded at him, some of the tension in her easing. The police sirens were in the distance now. 

“My name is Allie.”

Ace smiled at her. She didn’t return it. 

 Why am I here? Helping this girl? Because she reminds me of me? When I was a kid? Who am I to play the hero? I left my Maman when those men dragged her away. I’m no hero. “Something … bad happened here”. He had to get away from his thoughts. 

“My daddy was yelling at my grandpa. Daddy had a gun in his hands. Grandpa told me to run. And then there was a loud noise.”

Her hands are gripping onto the blanket. She’s looking up at him. She’s scared. She needs safety. Answers. She needs answers. 

Ace tries a distraction. “Mr Wilson is your grandpa? He’s nice”.

She nods her head again, wrapping the blanket around her and reaching for her doll. Allie gets up and rushes into Ace’s arms. Right past her grandpa. Ace tenses, keeping his arms where they are, eyes wide on Mr. Wilson. 

Mr. Wilson sucks in a shuddering breath before he breaks down into sobs. The police sirens are outside now. Red and blue lights fill up the room. Ace puts his arms around Allie. She turns her head to the side, as if listening to his heartbeat. 

“Is my grandpa okay?”.

Once again, Ace is reminded of his own childhood. How his Papa didn’t answer his own questions no matter how much he asked. No matter if he asked softly or screamed it. His Papa only picked him up and held him close. So he did the same. That’s how the police found them. 

Ace kept his eyes on Allie as the police took over. Carrying her out the apartment, covering her eyes so she didn’t see the grim sight of her grandfather. Taking her down the stairs to the waiting ambulance. Paramedics gently took her and poked and prodded her. He answered the questions thrown his way and waved off an offer of help. But his legs soon gave out under him when the tight feeling that had sat in his chest began to lift. They were no longer in danger. He wasn’t responsible for a kid. And he didn’t have to field her questions that brought back memories he would rather forget.

The police carried him over to another ambulance. Just like Allie the paramedics worked on him. Wrapping a blood pressure cup around his arm, placing a breathing mask on his face, checking his pulse,asking a million questions. Then they pulled out some straps. 

The tight feeling crept back in. 

“No straps please”.

But they didn’t hear him.

He raised his arm, getting the attention of one of the EMT’s.

“No straps please”, he repeated.

“It’s just a safe precaution, to make sure you don’t fall”, she assured him.

That’s not it.

They put one over his legs, then his stomach.

Please stop.

The lady lowered the back of the gurney to make him more comfortable.

Don’t do it.

The ambulance shook around as they made their way to the hospital. Ace felt his heart leap into the air with each jump. Memories came flooding back.

“Papa please!”.

He was strapped down, something placed in his mouth.

“Bite this”.

Something was placed on his head.

His arms were strapped down but he reached for his father, his hands moving wildly. 

He tried to speak through the gag.

“It’s not there!”. 

But no one could understand him. And it was still there.

He could see the thing in the hallway, peeking in.

“Clear”.

He jolted, his mind going numb. His body shook violently from the electrical current flowing through his body.

A team of people in scrubs stood over Ace’s body, watching him and the screens next to the table.

One nurse looked over.

“You don’t have to be here Mr Jager”.

Ace couldn't hear what his father said back. Everything went dark. 

A low voice speaking woke him up. Ace struggled to open his eyes against the blinding light that awaited him. Everything felt slow. 

The smell of disinfectant made him cringe. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he opened his eyes but a hospital room wasn’t too off. And it wasn’t bad. He could see a small TV hanging on the wall. That’s where the voice was coming from. The bed was warm. There was some pain on his arm, where an IV line had been made. He moved his arm stiffly, not wanting it to hum faintly with heat. 

His other free arm he lifted his arm to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. It took some time. Everything felt heavy. Too heavy.

He closed his eyes again. The tv gave him something to listen to. To help drown out thinking about what his father could have said all those years ago.

He just watched them burn my brain. And he blames me for being stuck. All of my thoughts are stuck. They have been for years. 

He wiped away the tears that came back. He strained his ears to listen to the low voice. 

It was a news broadcast. 

“Good evening. Tonight we bring big news. Breaking developments after Edenstone Medical Center has a major upcoming civil lawsuit with possible criminal charges. The case stems from patient deaths due to alleged misconduct. Assistant District Attorneys Rispoli and Silva are pursuing the case on criminal charges despite little evidence we’ve heard-”

The voice stopped suddenly.

Ace peeks open his eyes just a little bit. The sight in front of him makes his heart skip a beat. There is a thing standing in front of his bed. Not like anything he has seen before. A hooded figure and all he can see are dots of white in the blackness of the hood. His body feels too heavy to move. Not that he could, a chilling fear crawled up his spine and settled in his chest. He wouldn’t dare move anything with it watching him. The room remains silent. Both watching each other. 

It moved suddenly. Ace held his breath. It only titled its head to the side. Ace looked to the side, to the door. To the window. To the call button draped over his lap. He contemplated what options he had. His eyes landed on the tv as he did. 

To his surprise the thing moved forward, it looked at the tv as well, it’s hood moving. Then the white dots in all the black locked onto him. The hood went side to side. Very slowly and intentionally. 

Ace’s hands ball into fists under the sheet. The drugs in his IV made his eyes start to droop. He fought to keep them open and on the thing. They became too heavy to keep open. Sleep claimed him. The thing remained in front of him the entire time.