text: “I died once. In the sand. The sun blistering down on me and burning my flesh away to nothing for days and days, while I wandered the wasteland without end. I remember great sadness, knowing the way home but never taking it. Far too lost inside of myself to care where my prison of flesh wandered.” His deep, flawless voice whispered into her ear, intimate as anything else in this world. “You asked me ‘what happens after death? Where I go?’ I cannot tell you. Not because it would bring you to fear, but because it would answer so very much. They are not my answers to give.” “Why... are you here if not to give answers?” The soft, paper-thin voice asked, laced with fear and perhaps more confusion than he wished to leave her with. “Will I become like you?” “No, my sweet. I promise you. The next step on your journey shall be as intended.” He whispers, softly running his thumb down her knobby spine. She was so frail, so very frail for a woman in her thirties. Cancer was a horror that even his scarred heart took pity on. “Would you like to hear my story? I’ve only told a few sweet souls. Perhaps it will put you at ease, relax your final moments in the wander that is time?” His lips softly pressed against her temple, feeling her pulse against them softly. She had time for a story, at least there was time for that. “Please... “ She started but stopped as a cough racked her form, blood mixed with spittle peppering his cheek and white coat. “I’m so sorry.” She finally says after the fit of coughing is finished. Her heart is beating faster now, costing her precious moments of peace and causing her great pain. He wills her heart to slow down, a trick he learned after his second century of new life. The relaxation was palpable, nearly putting the poor woman to sleep but he pulled back just before she could drift off. “No, my sweet. I am sorry. I am sorry that more cannot be done for you.” He continues his soft whisper. “I shall tell you my story, relax into me, and trust that no more pain will come. By the end of my tale, you will be at peace. This... I can promise you.” He says pulling the woman into his lap fully, the hospital gown falling away and leaving her small form completely nude. He preferred it this way, to take them in the same way they arrived. He believed it made the passing easier, to accept them without horror or revulsion. One final acceptance, even appreciating their beauty and willing them to see themselves at their peak. It was a simple trick, to bring back their old memories, those brightest lights. For this one, it was her high school prom. She wore a black dress, a strappy thing and despite her date choosing another woman at the last minute, his sweet victim knew she was ravishing. Oh, the heads she turned that night. “I do not remember everything, of course. So many things are lost to time and I wouldn’t be able to describe them even if I did remember. However, I remember waking up in the desert. A coyote desperately pulling at my flesh, silly little thing was starving. So was I. We fought for a moment, maybe longer and maybe there wasn’t a fight at all... but eventually it was only me in the desert alone. For a long while, I wandered in the night and buried myself in the day, letting the beautiful sand dunes keep me safe from the brutality of the sun.” His whisper slowly faded away and he trailed his lips down the poor woman’s neck. “I remember staying with some Bedouins, although I do not know if that’s what they were called at the time. They took me in, cared for me as if I were one of their own. We watched over each other for so very long. Generations of their families protected me during the day, carrying my body with them on their journey without fear of the sun. Wrapped in their tents, I made for very little extra inconvenience. So many times I protected them from bandits, riders coming to steal whatever they could. Occasionally we would wander too close to a sacred sight from some obscure religion and their followers would come in the night. I would also ease their elders into a final sleep. As I’m doing for you sweet one.” His lips parted and he sunk his fangs lightly into her paper-thin skin. Now, he was able to show her his memories. Continuing the story where his voice had fallen off. She would notice no difference, not when he’d been buried so deeply in her mind already. The poor frail thing that it was. He showed her images, of the group of Bedouins joining An-Nasir Salah Ad-Din Yusuf Ibn Ayyub and enlisting to fight with him against the emergent Christian invaders. He remembered the betrayal, the feeling of loss when the group was forced to brand him a monster, and the vengeance he took on every human lost in the dark for years to come. Harassing the armies of both sides in the conflict and occasionally picking a side in a battle, fought at night with something similar to the random flip of a coin. Oh, how the blood flowed like water in those days. It was so very cathartic to see their bodies strewn in the desert, dried out of all moisture. He knew now that history remembered those fallen as having been lost and running out of water. Conveniently omitting the grisly sight of their carnage and positing instead that animals had gotten to their corpses. He sighed inwardly, feeling the poor girl’s heart begin its final soft beats, he hadn’t even gotten to England yet in his story. Ah, it couldn’t be helped. Her slowing heart rate gave him very little time. Instead of finishing his story, or even giving her his name, he instead brought the images of her parents. Smiling at the birth of their daughter, proud beyond reason. It was a memory almost no humans would see, but he thought it poetic to give them a final look at the beginning of their lives. Envelop them in the pure and unbroken love of their parents as he took them quietly home for the final time. When her heart monitor started beeping, he knew it was over. Silent tears flew down his cheeks and he lay the poor nude woman back in the bed. Covering her up and composing her in what he hoped was a peaceful appearance. The final touch was of course, for the family of the deceased. He’d been doing this for so very long that he had forgotten more than he remembered now. Wiping the blood from his lips on the sleeve of his white coat, he closed the woman’s eyes and bowed to her. A sign of deep respect for one that had given so much to him. He left her room, heading up the stairs and out into the night air. He left the white, bloodstained coat floating quietly to the street below. He didn’t even know where he was anymore, a ghost floating from place to place without truly remembering. He remembered what had happened as if they were another person’s memories. His own were lost to him, and the only joy left in his life was to ease the suffering of those soft humans who truly earned none of it.