Mayberry Memorial Hospital had always been a regular stop since they could remember. Though the visits weren’t for any serious injuries on their part. it was more of an excuse to see familiar faces, what with them being busy all the time, it was harder and harder for them to get any time for themselves. It was a shame too, from what they could tell this year’s been a lot more demanding on them than usual. 

Not that they weren’t affected by this either. As far apart as their fields of work were, the fact of the matter is that a job will always be a hectic mess. Nobody is ever truly ready for what hurdles a job is ready to throw at them.

Well, they say that, but there’s plenty of jobs out there that aren’t as demanding as the ones that men and women in these hospitals have to undertake. Even the security guards that roamed the area have a tougher time, especially when they came around to visit, not that they ever acknowledged them mind you. 

Walking into the hospital’s main lobby, they looked around for anything that could arouse interest. But, nothing stood out to their eyes. Like always, families sat on the various rows of black chairs with worry surrounding them like some uncomfortable blanket, those that weren’t seated paced around the spacious lobby muttering things they couldn’t quite make out under their breath. 

Really, the only ones that didn’t seem bothered were the children, who were happily playing in a corner decorated to appeal to their sensibilities. They even had a tv playing animated movies for them to see while they waited. 

Oh, they remember the voice actor for that purple genie. A tragic end for such a talented individual. At least their first meeting was more amicable. 

Moving on from the lobby, the elevator was where they needed to go. After all, most of the familiar faces were in the upper floors, right above the constant waiting down below. 

Floor seven was their destination. A floor dedicated to women who are ready to bring tender souls into this world. The tiny ones were precious to look at, with their chubby little faces and energetic wailing. Truly, their high-spirited reaction to life was always such a pleasure to hear. 

But today was an odd day, they noted. The newborns weren’t as many today, their wailing, while still strong enough to carry on through the halls, did not have the same strong will as previous newborns and their chorus of new life. So, with curiosity on their mind, they decided to follow the cries of the newborns, passing by some familiar nurses along the way. 

A wide wave as they’ve ever given, and like always, the nurses did not pay them any mind. It was enough to bring a lone tear to the eyes. 

Ignoring the rudeness of the staff, they went about their way, again they followed the cries of the vulnerable souls. Soon enough a window stretching nearly the entire wall came into view, and on the other side a room with rows of small beds surrounded by thin plastic rails with the newborns nestled inside.

Of course, the tender souls were receptive to their presence, somehow managing to increase the volume of their wailing to a degree that the window might have gotten a shake or two from the little one’s unintended coordination. 

Though the reactions of the newborns couldn’t be blamed, the sting that lingered in their chest lingered a little longer than the last visit. 

However, just as they turned to move on to another section of the hospital, something in the corner of their eye had them stop. It was an empty crib, with the name tag reading “Charlie Macleod”, a most peculiar name, and one that aroused great interest.

So why not visit? After all, it's not everyday they get to witness the birth of a new soul with their own eyes. 

Thankfully, the name tag of the soon-to-be newborn held the number to the room the birth would take place in, room #6. A room they passed not too long ago in fact, so a small backtrack would be in order. Along the way a few of the hospital staff passed by, some of the longer employed ones as well, so they waved another spirited hello.

Of course, the doctors walked right past them. 

Ignoring the other lone tear threatening to spill from their eyehole, room #6 was coming into view, like all the other rooms, any outside view was hidden by curtains. Staying outside and listening was far duller than watching the whole process unfold, so naturally, they let themselves in. And the first thing that came to view was immediately worrying.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

There were no signs of newly formed life in this room. 

There were only doctors and nurses surrounding the sole bed in the room, the woman who assumedly- to his dismay - had already given birth was in the process of looking manically between the group huddling around her, and her presumed husband who stood to the side, his eyes shut and head hung low. 

Ah, so that’s how it was fated to be. 

Perched on the distraught mother’s bare chest was a diminutive baby. Though, unlike the rest of the ones at the nursery, this one did not make a sound, no wailing, no incoherent noises, it simply rested there. At first they thought the baby had simply been a rare case, where their birth was not signified with a rapturous yell against the world’s foreign air, but a quiet reprieve that did not mind the world’s sudden frantic embrace. 

Alas, the soul hovering above the little one’s body told another story entirely. 

They’ve learned over the course of their job to ignore the incoming grief. Too many times have they’ve seen the same song and dance unfold before them, and every time what had to come next did not weigh easily on their mind. 

But to bring the souls to their eternal rest has always been death’s job, and it’s not like the poor newborn would suffer in the afterlife, quite the opposite in fact. 

God is always in more need of Angels, after all.

With great care, death made to grab the newly departed soul. Then his hand disappeared. Odd, why would it do that? Manifesting their lost limb again, death attempted another bid for the new formed soul, only for the soul itself to rebuff the attempt. 

How… Fascinating!

Never has a soul so vehemently refused to answer to their final rest, and from one so newly formed as well. If death had any begrudging annoyance before, it was now replaced with burning curiosity. However, as strong as the urge to poke and prod at this new anomaly was, it became clear the soul was in an aimless stupor. 

They could not take it to the afterlife, but staying trapped in the apathy of limbo was not a fate they were keen on seeing the young soul endure. 

Hm, if shepherding the soul was not an option, then perhaps a helpful push in the right direction may prove the answer. Hovering over the soul once more, a faint purple glow engulfed their hand, amusingly, this had the soul whipped up in a frenzy as it flew in a circle. 

Death gently obstructed its path by putting their hand in front of the panicked soul. Predictably it stopped, and before it occurred to do so, death put his other hand behind the soul’s back, boxing it in place right above the stillborn’s body. 

With no hesitation, the soul threw itself to the stillborn’s body, pushing with all its might before the last embers of the soul faded from the stillborn’s little chest. 

A few moments later, a soft yawn escaped from the baby’s lips, with soft little mewls proceeding after. It took a moment for the occupants in the room to process what had happened, but the moment they did was a scene Death would not dare to forget anytime soon. 

Leaving the chorus of uproar behind them, Death noted that for once, there were no other signs of the living passing on in any other part of the hospital. It seemed their little detour would come to an end here, not that they minded. 

As they walked out of the hospital doors, Death figured they would head elsewhere, if there were any exact places, they could not come up with any. Truly, the lack of deaths today had their curiosity peaked. 

Oh, they seem to be corrected. 

It seems these tainted souls had quickly gone from perpetrators to victims at the drop of a hat a few states over. They could no longer drag their feet on the matter, so with a final look at the hospital, Death decided to enact his will this second, and last time. 

With a green hue enveloping their hands, a blob, for lack of a better way to describe it, wriggled around in between Death’s grasp. The unruliness needed to be corrected with a small flick. But now that It was no longer wriggling about, it only took a few moments to mold it into something vaguely resembling a soul. 

Death finished by breathing onto the little creation, now hovering above their palm with nary a shake. 

It was waiting for its purpose, so they gave it one.