the morgue

The morgue was cold.

The past few hours had felt like a dream. Ayano drifted between conscious and unconscious, dream and reality. They couldn’t quite tell what was real and what a product of a pill-induced haze. After being rushed from their hospital room to the operating room, the doctors haphazardly brought Ayano to the basement morgue. He wasn’t quite sure why - he was still alive, despite the doctors saying that Dr. Nishizono had failed his attempt to use the defibrillator.

Laying flat on their back, they had been stripped of their sheen hospital gown and draped in nothing but a plastic sheet. The metal table made their skill crawl, yet they found their limbs far too sluggish and heavy to move. So they lay there, as still as a corpse. It could have been hours; it could have been days. It could have been just 5 minutes. Doctors ebbed and flowed around the bun, gazing down and casting shadows in the fluorescent light. Mikohara was by his side for a long time. Or at least, Ayano thought he was. He couldn’t really tell; again, it all still felt like just a bad dream.

When the numbness of his bones turned to a droning ache, Ayano decided it was finally time to get up. Peeling himself from the examination table, the bun slowly sat up and began to take a look at their surroundings: a stale, grey room with frigid air and harsh, white light. It didn’t look much different from the wing of the hospital that Ayano was used to, say for the wall lined with large metal cabinets. They noticed that lying next to the table was a manilla folder stuffed to the brim with various documents.

Now, Ayano had been taught by Dr. Nishizono never to snoop into his personal documents. But they wouldn’t have just left them here if they didn’t want them to look at it! And besides, Ayano was never good at following directions anyway. Reaching over, the bun lifted the top of the folder and took a peek at the paper on top. They squinted out of habit; their eyesight had been bad for as long as they could remember. Yet when they tried to read the words, they noticed that the letters didn’t swim across the page as they usually did. It was crisp, clear, and most importantly, not blurry. Ayano’s eyes widened in horror as they stared at the big bold words on the hospital ledger…

“Patient: AYANO KINOSHITA
Status: Deceased.”

What? That can’t be right. Ayano was right here! Sure, he may be a bit skeletal around the edge, but he was perfectly fine! In fact, it's more than perfectly fine. The numbness was starting to wear off, and the pain in his brain, which was usually ever-present, had stopped completely. For the first time in his life, Ayano could think clearly. Hells, he could see clearly too! This must be wrong. The bun grabbed the ledger out of the folder and stood up from the table.

Apparently, not all of his body got the message about “feeling perfectly fine;” As soon as Ayano’s hooves touched the ground, a wave of nausea hit the bun like a truck. They stumbled and grabbed the table for support, trying to gain their balance again.
“Are you alright?” said a voice.

“Fine, happens all the time…” replied Ayano. They blinked a few times and took a deep breath in and out. How long had they been holding their breath? Also who the fuck was talking to them?

Suddenly startled, Ayano’s head shot up (nausea be dammed!) to see who was in the room with them. They were greeted by the dark-haired man with tired eyes - Timothy! Panic filled their veins as the fear of another attack dawned on them. Sensing this, the man raised his hands, palms towards them. “It’s okay, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m here to help.”

“Why should I…Why should I believe you?” Ayano asked. “You-! You attacked me!”

“I’m sorry,” said Timothy, “I’m sorry, I really am. But I had to do something. You were dying.”

Ayano tilted his head in confusion. “What exactly did you do to me?”

A long pause, then a sigh. “It’s complicated…but, long story short, I… turned you into a vampire.”

…

“What?”

“Ok, I know that sounds weird, but I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Timothy explained. “I saved you from death!”

“And what if I didn’t want to be saved?” Ayano retorted. “What if I-What if I-What if I- UGH!” They hit themselves in the head a few times in frustration. The words weren’t forming right in their mouth; they got stuck in his throat and couldn’t make it out past their lips. His life was not for this stranger to create and destroy as he wished - their life belonged to Dr. Nishizono! Right? Right?

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” reassured Timothy, placing a hand on Ayano’s back. Tears began to prick at the edges of their eyes, eventually flowing down their pale cheeks. This wasn’t right. They were supposed to be dead.

“I know it’s confusing, but it’s going to be okay,” he explained, “I was just like you once.”

Ayano sniffled. “You were?”

“All vampires go through something similar. I know it’s scary, but you have to be brave. There’s somewhere I need to take you,” Timothy explained. “But let’s get you some clothes first.”

The man helped Ayano slowly stand before searching around the cold morgue for anything Ayano could use as cover. They settled on a white tablecloth that Ayano wrapped around his body; he had hoped it would provide a little more warmth, but the sheet was just as cold as the room that surrounded him. He wasn’t sure where Timothy was taking him, but his lips felt stiff and useless; no questions right now. Instead, he walked in silence behind Timothy as the pair exited the morgue and made their way through the dark corridors of the hospital. Ayano secretly wished that maybe Mikohara would turn a corner and rescue him from this strange nightmare, but as they approached the EXIT door, no such luck came.

Gently pushing the door open, Ayano swiftly followed Timothy out of the place he had grown so fond of over the many years. For the first time in a long time, Ayano took their first steps out of the Burrowgatory Hill Hospital and out into the warm night’s air.