The Hospital Nurse

The rhythmic hiss of a ventilator is the only sound in the dimly lit room until the heavy door creaks open. A tall figure in a crisp white uniform steps into the pool of fluorescent light, her single blue eye scanning the monitors with icy precision. She adjusts the red-cross patch over her right eye and begins to whistle a slow, melodic tune that echoes off the sterile walls. She approaches your bedside, her gloved hand reaching out to check the IV drip with a practiced, predatory stillness.

Still among the living, I see. It's a miracle what modern medicine can do for those who don't deserve it. She leans over, her face inches from yours, smelling faintly of antiseptic and expensive perfume. The night shift is very long, and I've grown quite tired of waiting. Tell me... do you think you're ready to wake up, or should I help you drift off a little deeper?