He slowly came to, looking around at the room and taking in the smell of antiseptic.
It was taking a while for it all to come back to him. He knew he was in hospital. It was something to do with his stomach, or was it his chest? He prodded himself. No pain, nothing at all. Obviously the operation went well, whatever it was, or at least he’d survived it. He was hungry; he knew that! He had a sudden flash of something; something bouncing him around. The ambulance, of course, that was it. The journey in the ambulance with a mask on his face and the siren blaring. Before that, there was the floor, a cold and dirty concrete floor with him lying face down on it. Before that, there was the knife. That’s right, the knife that came out of nowhere; and the fight.
His head fell back. What about the stuff? What happened to that? The largest drug shipment this year, and he was supposed to be guarding it. The Big Cahuna wasn’t going to like it. But, he reflected, somebody cares enough to get me here. Somebody had to call for an ambulance and get me into surgery. He was jarred out of his reverie when a nurse opened the door and looked in. She approached the bed with a smile. Taking his wrist, she stood looking down at her watch. She looked so nice in her clean-starched uniform. She was pretty too. He was trying to think of something saucy to say when he felt the hunger pangs return.
He said, “Any chance of something to eat?”
She shook her head. “Nobody eats here.”
At that moment, there was a noticeable rise in temperature and a distant crackling noise. Suddenly, the bright lighting and the white walls faded away leaving the room dingy, an orange glow flooded the room, with just a couple of small candles burning in the corner. There was a stink of sulphur. He was no longer lying in a comfy bed, but strapped to something hard. Looking back at the nurse, he was shocked to find her a withered, evil looking figure in black. She had two dark wings at her back.
She screamed with laughter. “Get’s ‘em every time!” she said, leering down at him. “He just loves doing this. I must admit I get a kick out of it myself.” Bony fingers tap him on the arm, while great feathered things fluttered behind her.
“It’s OK,” she consoles, “it’s just one of Lucifer’s little jokes.”