Soft whispers echo in the hallway. They grow louder and the voices are hauntingly eerie. Black smoke slithers through a crack in the doorway, nearing the bed. I watch in silence as it snakes up the headboard. The ethereal song can be heard faintly from the hallway and I flinch, shrinking back. A sleeping patient lying on the bed gasps and chokes, his eyes bugging out. The smoke has found its newest victim.

Voices, overlapping and rising above others, threaten to flood the room with power. More smoke seeps into the room, curling around the bed as I watch the man die. His fingers dig into the bed sheets as he struggles to take another gasp of air. I lower my eyes, unable to watch any further. A click echoes and I look up in shock as the door opens.

A tall man, clad in black, holds his hand out to me. Black smoke wraps around it like a chain. I glance at him then back at the struggling patient, unsure whether to stay or leave. He smiles curiously then opens his mouth to utter three words.

“..Morte et dabo.”