Inside a dim hospital ward that reeked of sickness and the quiet decay of death, a frail boy lay motionless on a narrow bed, a drip inserted into his left arm. The only source of light in the room came from the faint glow of the phone he held weakly in his trembling fingers.
Despite the pain, a small chuckle escaped his lips as he scrolled through old messages and family photos. The sound, soft and fleeting, was quickly drowned by a harsh, crackling cough. He covered his mouth instantly, crimson splattering across his pale skin. That familiar metallic taste filled his mouth.
He wiped it off shakily, his breath shallow.
Creak.
The door opened slowly, and a nurse stepped inside. She was young, beautiful, dressed in a perfectly pressed cyan uniform. Her eyes landed on him with pity, but there was something… off in her expression… something that didn't match her sympathetic tone.
"Mr. Ethan, I told you," she began gently, her voice too rehearsed, "you need more rest than entertainment. Any emotional stimulation or laughter can trigger cellular stress in your condition. I've told you this many times."
Ethan frail, 17, and living on borrowed time could only offer a weak, bitter smile as he handed over the phone without resistance. The nurse accepted it with a faint, professional grin.
"Your kidney transplant is scheduled for next week Tuesday," she added, her tone shifting slightly as she checked his IV line. "So please, rest. No more distractions."
He nodded slowly, trusting her. Why wouldn't he? She was the one person he saw daily. She had always seemed kind… almost motherly.
She adjusted his drip and noted his vitals, then turned to leave. But just as she reached the door, she paused, then added in a lighter voice, "Oh and I'm not supposed to tell you this, but… your sister's grades have been improving lately."
That brought a genuine smile to Ethan's lips it was soft, real, and rare. The nurse looked back and hesitated for a moment, her hand still on the door handle. Her eyes lingered too long.
"it's such a shame" she murmured, almost to herself. "i can't believe he's going after kids too…"
Ethan barely heard it, but it sent a chill down his spine.
"…What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
Suddenly, a violent throb pulsed in his skull. His vision blurred. Pain lanced through his veins. His body began to shut down.
His limbs spasmed, and blood spilled from his mouth in thick gushes.
His eyes opened wide as he stared towards the nurse in disbelief.
"…What… did you do… to me?" he choked out, barely audible.
The nurse turned back slowly, her expression calm and cold.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ethan," she said, her voice emotionless. "The man who wants you dead is someone even our hospital can't afford to offend. I was ordered to ensure you wouldn't make it to the operation."
She stepped closer, then added softly, "I'll take care of your sister… if he lets her live."
At the mention of his sister he forgot all the pain he was feeling.
'Lily!'
He tried to move. His body wouldn't respond. His muscles twitched, but he couldn't even lift his hand. He couldn't scream. He couldn't protect her.
"No…" he growled inwardly. " I have to get up! I have to protect her!
But all he could do was twitch his fingers.
The nurse stood in front of him now, a somber look on her face. She raised her hand and gently brushed his hair back like a mother would a dying child.
"Rest, Ethan."
That was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.
The pulse of his beating heart was gone and the light in his eyes had faded as his body slowly slumped back.
Somewhere in the void…
A voice screamed inside his fading consciousness all his own, twisted by pain and fury.
"Why?! What did we do to deserve this?!"
His mind spiraled in darkness, memories flashing.
His family once complete suddenly wiped out because of a power struggle in politics.
His father was warned to back down from the election but he didn't.
So they were erased
All of them. Extended family included.
Only he and his sister remained, maybe due to errors in their plans or intentionally.
He, terminally ill. Weak. Dying.
They hadn't even allowed him that final mercy.
They sent someone to kill a dying child.
And likely, her too.
"They passed down the sin of a father unto the whole family including children who didn't even know anything and hated them for simply existing."
That hatred he once reserved for his condition now turned outward humanity itself. Greedy. Cruel. Self-serving.
"I curse them. All of them. I curse this race that wears smiles while burying knives."
His soul seethed. Rage bloomed like a second life inside him.
"If there's a world after this… let me become what they fear most."