In Life, There Is Death.

Surrounded by wires snaking across the floor and the low-frequency monotonous beeping of white bleached machinery, the only addition that would make this situation worse would be the constant cries, coughs, and pleas of the dying souls that inhabited Lakeshore Hospital.

Henry had been at this hospital a few times before but had never stayed longer than a few nights. This was Henry’s first time in Palliative Care and with a statement on his report that read ‘EoLC,’ or in layman’s terms’ End-Of-Life-Care.

It was likely to be Henry’s last visit to this hospital.

Henry was weak, his bones were increasingly brittle, and his heartbeat at a slower pace than it had a few days earlier.

It seemed as though he was dying.

Henry was in a room with another male patient that was in a similar situation to EoLC. While this man was suffering from the early stages of heart failure, Henry was succumbing to the effects of an ill-treated life.

“Nurse! Nurse!” The other man yelled.

This man was unable to move from his hospital bed and could only rely on his voice to get him the things that he needed.

A young woman, draped in long white clothing and blue colored gloves made her way through the double doors into the semi-large room and over to the man in his bed.

“How are you feeling today, Philip? Do you need something?” The nurse’s voice was comforting and warm.

Philip, the old man who looked to be over 100 years old, with deep wrinkles and sunken eyes, leaned over to the woman and spoke. “I want you to let my wife know that I’m going to take her to that dance tonight. Can you tell her that?”

The nurse patiently sighed and grabbed Philip’s hand. “I’ll let her know as soon as I see her, Philip.” The woman smiled and turned to walk back through the double doors.

Henry had begun to know Philip on a more personable level over the last few weeks, without having talked to him much before.

Most of what he learned was from observing and listening to the man falls in and out of reality. At times his thoughts were crisp and clear, and at other times convoluted and a part of the past.

Henry knew Philip’s wife had passed away 5 years ago and that Philip was also suffering from late-stage Dementia. It was hard for Henry not to chime in and remind Philip of his wife’s passing, but deep down, he knew that he would not understand and that news of his wife would be too much for his heart to handle.

So Henry simply listened, observed, and got to know Philip in what was likely to be his last few days.

“I see her!” Philip exclaimed. He reached his arms out as far as he could from the position he was laying, and he began to hug the air, much like you would with a long lost love. “I knew I would see you again, Sarah. I knew I hadn’t lost you.”

Nearly exhausting all of his energy Philip swiftly laid his head back down on the bed, letting his hands drop to his sides.

Henry noticed Philp’s right hand was clenched in a loose fist, much like he was holding a person’s hand. Philip smiled and closed his eyes.

He took one last deep breath.

The silence in the air began to be filled with the loud sirens of machines. Nurses began to pour into the room, one after the other, with more equipment and medicine than Henry had seen before.

After nearly 10 minutes of the Nurses trying to save Philips’ life, it became evident to Henry that he was now in a happier place and had no intentions of taking another breath.

The nurses began to slow their pace, and some of them left the room. “Philip Ernest, deceased on March 25th at 1400 hours.” One of the nurses began to write down what was said by the doctor on a notepad attached to the end of Philip’s bed.

After most of the nurses and doctors left the room, Henry noticed a peculiar change in Philip’s face; he was smiling. It was one of those smiles that starts from one end of the cheek and ends at the other. It is the type of smile that is impossible to fake and is a true sign of complete happiness.

Henry remained quiet for a period of time after Philip’s passing. He felt that he was in a similar situation and would have the same fate as Philip. He only hoped that he too would pass on from this life with such a smile on his face.

Henry, processing the situation, closed his eyes and followed with a few deep breaths. As Henry opened his eyes, he noticed something had changed within the room.

Something that he could never have imagined.

Standing over Philips’s body was a figure. To Henry, the figure was neither a man nor a woman. This figure was draped in black clothing that was adorned with inscriptions and symbols that seemed foreign, ancient, and unfamiliar to Henry. He rubbed his eyes and focused on the figure in greater detail, scanning it up and down a few times over.

Henry concluded that the figure was also not human.

The figure had its back turned to Henry, but he could see that the figure’s calves had neither skin nor muscle. The figure walked on human bones that at various areas where joints, muscle, and skin would normally be visible were instead filled with empty spaces.

The figure’s dark clothing was tattered and ripped and had ends that snaked and floated in the air around him.

It didn’t look like the ends of clothing that blow around in a heavy wind. Rather, the pieces of clothing vibrated and swirled in their static space in the air.

The figure, still standing over Philip’s body, reached over and began to hold his hand. Henry could now see that the figure’s hand was also made of bones and creaked and cracked as it wrapped tighter around Philip’s hand.

With the other hand, the figure reached over to Philip’s forehead and hovered only a few inches in the air above his face.

Henry noticed the figure’s other hand was also made out of bleached and creaky bones. The figure curled four of its fingers into an awkward bony fist, letting only its index finger stick straight out.

The figure touched its index finger in the space between Philips’s eyebrows. Henry knew this area was symbolic in many cultures as a person’s third eye.

The figure began to move its index finger from Philip’s forehead, slowly bringing it closer towards its own body.

What Henry noticed next can only be described as a situation that seemed to be lifted from a fairytale and placed haphazardly into the real world.

Following the figure’s bony index finger was a stream of white light.

Henry noticed that the light was not normal light. It seemed to be made of a white liquid that moved between a solid and a gaseous state.

With a slow and steady motion, the figure folded its arm into its chest, and the liquid light seemed to disappear from Henry’s sight.

The figure unclenched its other fist and let Philips’s hand rest beside his body once again.

As Henry’s line of sight increased, he noticed that the contented smile on Philip’s face had disappeared.

Only a few feet away in the semi-large room, Philip’s body now lay lifeless in its hospital bed.

Moments later, a few doctors and nurses in spotless white lab coats re-entered the room and began to detach Philip from the wires and machinery that poked and prodded his body.

The doctors and nurses did not seem to take notice of the figure standing beside Philips’s bed, much like it was invisible to them or they had seen this figure before. One of the doctors at the end of Philips’s bed clicked down a metal pedal and began to slowly pull Philips’s bed out of the room.

A collection of nurses and doctors guided Philips’s bed through the double doors, down a long hallway, and around a sharp corner.

This was the last time Henry saw Philip.

“Hello, Henry.” The voice vibrated in the air and rattled up and down the bones of the figure.

Henry had heard nothing similar to this voice before. It sounded stoic, yet frightening, intriguing, yet terrifying. The figure slowly turned around.

This was the first time Henry had seen the figure’s full body.

The figure stood about 7 feet tall and was made entirely out of human bones. Henry also noticed that the figures’ eyes were simply empty space and similar darkness to an onyx gemstone, or the darkness in the corner of a room when no light is allowed to enter.

The figure had rows of bones, similar in size and placement to human ribs, that partly shimmered from the lights in the hospital room.

The figure seemed to be a walking human skeleton, with bones that stayed in a place like an invisible skin was holding everything together.

The figure walked closer to Henry without hindrance until it was almost arching forward over the foot of Henry’s bed.

“Do you know who I am, Henry?” The voice asked in a pious and speculative manner.

Henry could not speak; he simply stared blankly at the figure with increasingly sporadic breaths.

The figure stared back at Henry. It seemed to be waiting keenly for his answer.

“Are you Death?” Henry asked with a fearful shake in his voice.

“I go by many names. Death, Grim, the Reaper, the Banshee, Mot, Thanatos, Hel. Every culture, past and present, has a different name for me.”

Henry noticed that as Death moved, pieces of its bones began to chip, break, and fall to the semi-limpid hospital floor.

“Do you fear me, Henry?” Death seemed to be more curious for Henry’s answer than affirmed by its own question.

Henry mustered enough strength to sit nearly upright in his bed.

“Death, I do not fear you or my own death. What I truly fear is leaving the ones I love behind.”

Death assiduously smirked with the bones of its face.

“Henry, people fear me because I am the one who greets them to death. But most people misunderstand my purpose. I do not intend to bring death to anyone, but instead act as the indiscriminate gatekeeper between this world of pain, love, and sacrifice, and the eternal world of boundless satisfaction free of suffering.”

Death began to move from the foot of Henry’s bed until it was standing directly beside him. Death gripped the railing on the side of the bed and leaned towards Henry.

“You are in pain, Henry. You are dying, and you are supposed to be dead, Henry. Your time has ended. I am here to be of service to you and guide you on to your next journey.”

Death loosened its tight grip on the railing and, in a fluid movement, presented its right hand to Henry.

While Henry unhurriedly moved his hand towards Deaths, he caught sight of something else moving beyond and behind a wall of transparent glass.

Henry could see his family.

His wife, Helen, of 30 years, looked as beautiful as the day he met her. She was warmly reminding Henry’s granddaughter and grandson, Rebecca, and Tom, not to fight with each other in the hospital and especially under Henry’s alarming circumstances. To Henry, Rebecca and Tom were so full of life and had a bright future ahead of them whether they fought with each other or not. On the other side of Helen were Robert and Jennifer, Henry’s son and his son’s wife.

Henry had everyone he loved with him in the hospital.

He looked up at Death and subsequently smiled while lowering his hand to its original position.

“I know I’m not ready to leave because I need more time with my family.” Tears filled Henry’s eyes and rolled down his face.

To Henry, Death remained silent for a long time after his declaration. Death looked over its shoulder to Henry’s family and took notice of how much they cared for him and how attentively they waited for him in the wake of his fate.

Death turned its head back to look into Henry’s eyes, which were still full and swollen with tears.

“I cannot make you well, nor give you the secret to a longer life.”

Henry’s stomach twisted and turned.

“However, I can extend your life.”

“Briefly.”

Death reached its hand into its ajar chest and latched on to a rib, directly in front of where a human heart would have been present.

“You might not be consciously aware of it, but you are preparing to leave this world, Henry.” Death clenched its rib harder between its osseous knuckles.

“If you wish, I will extend your life a few moments longer. But, it will be met with magnified suffering as long as you oppose the Moirai.”

Death gripped its rib increasingly tighter until pieces began to fracture under the palpable stress.

“Henry, Death is both the manifestation of life and the consummation of life. I will pull out my rib and gift it to you.”

“I only ask that you use your last moments well.”

Henry peered over to his family beyond the transparent glass. His family looked back, smiling and waving as they unknowingly glanced through Death.

“I know I need more time with my family.” Henry professed, grabbing Death’s black cloak with both of his hands. Henry visibly shook, making use of his dwindling strength.

Death clenched harder and forcefully pulled on its rib, shattering it along its edges.

Almost immediately, the rib began to liquefy in Death’s hand and assume a similar form as the white liquid removed between Philips’s eyebrows.

In a similar fashion to presenting its hand a few moments earlier, Death presented its liquified rib to Henry in a cupped gesture.

While the reasoning was unbeknownst to Henry, he had a guttural feeling that he had to drink Death’s dissolved rib.

Henry moved towards Death and, as Death tipped its cupped hands towards Henry’s face, he took one large gulp.

Henry screamed in agony, and the monotonous ring of the machines flared on with life again as they reverberated around the room.

Henry closed his eyes, and his body sunk into the hospital bed.

Henry’s family rushed into the room and massed around his bed. The family cried in concert.

Helen wished she could take the pain away from Henry. Rebecca and Tom both held Henry’s right hand as it hung beside the bed, praying that he would become well. Robert hugged Jennifer and comforted her as she cried into his shoulder.

Henry slowly opened his eyes and smiled at each of his family members.

“Oh, my dear family. I will be perfectly fine because I know each of you will always be by my side in this life and the next. Whether I am here in the body or not at all, I know I will always be welcomed in love and spirit.”

Henry began to speak with bated breath. He was weak and certainly in more pain than before.

He looked as if he had aged 20 years in a single minute.

Henry looked over to his wife, Helen. “Helen, my love and my life. I want you to know that I will always be with you and that my single greatest achievement was being married to you. You are my soul, my heart, and my eternal love.” Henry softly wiped away a tear from Helen’s cheek and replaced it with a warm kiss.

Henry then looked over to Robert and Jennifer in mutual adoration. “Robert, you are my future and my greatest pride. I have and will always be proud of what you have done and will go on to achieve. You will be a better father than I have been and make an even better husband.”

Henry turned his head to Jennifer and smiled. “Jennifer, I welcomed you into our family, and that was the greatest decision I could have ever made. You gave me the perfect grandchildren and made me the happiest granddad in this life.”

Rebecca and Tom continued to tightly hold Henry’s hand. Henry shakingly peered over the side of his bed and looked into both of their eyes. “Tom, Rebecca, I wish you both the happiest of childhoods, filled with adventure, curiosity, and freedom. I know you will grow into sensible adults and change this world for the better. I hope you know how much I love you.”

Henry’s hands began to furiously shake, looking more brittle than before, and the color of his skin began to become a repugnant white-grey.

The family leaned in together and lovingly embraced Henry.

With his family surrounding him, Henry’s smile grew larger. “I love you all, but I need time to rest. Helen, bring Tom and Rebecca to the cafeteria; they must be starving sitting here waiting for little ol’ me.” Henry squished his face together, and Rebecca and Tom let out a belly laugh between tears.

In agreement, Helen leaned in one last time and placed a kiss on Henry’s forehead. While Helen ushered her family out of the room, she looked back and beamed a smile at Henry.

The family disappeared through the double doors, down the hallway, and around the sharp corner that took Philip moments before.

Henry wanted to cry; he wanted to scream, he wanted to plead. But all Henry could do was lay in his bed and stare into the ceiling. Moments later, a voice Henry had become familiar with echoed in his ears.

“The longer you stay here, Henry, the more pain you will endure until you cannot endure it any longer.” There was a hint of tenderness underlying Death’s voice.

Henry lowered his gaze until his eyes were level with Deaths, who had re-occupied the space at the end of his bed.

Henry’s voice was faint but nonetheless strong and proud.

“Death, I will leave this world a happy man, one loved by his family and one who showed love to others.

Wherever it may be, I am ready to go with you.”

Death walked around the side of Henry’s bed and placed its bony index finger between his eyebrows. Henry closed his eyes one last time.

Death began to pull out the same liquid light from Henry’s forehead until there was nothing left behind.

With its index finger, Death led the liquid light in a careful and familiar pattern to the empty space of its recently removed rib.

For a single moment, there was a sharp burst of white light, and in its place, a freshly created rib appeared. One that was stronger and healthier than the rib before.

Henry took one last deep breath before calmly sinking into his bed. Within seconds, the familiar monotonous sirens came back to life in the room.

Death smiled at Henry, and he mirrored an afterlife smile of his own.

Death turned around and began to walk through the double doors, down the hallway, and around the sharp corner that took both Philip and Henry’s family before.

With one hand resting on the side of the last corner wall, Death turned to look back at Henry.

With its other hand, Death lightly grasped on to its newly created rib and muttered under its breath.

“In Life, there is Death.”