Happy Birthday, Constantine!

They say that death is the great equalizer and nowhere did this stand truer than inside a hospital. The true beginning and ending of life where everyone, good or evil, lives and dies like anyone else, with no regard to power, status or wealth. And, in this particular hospital, we find the true beginning and, eventually, the ending of this story.

"I hate it here" Constantine thought. He couldn't remember how long it's been since he was brought here, he still wasn't sure why and he was more afraid than he'd ever been in his life. The white walls were blindingly suffocating, moans of pain echoed around the hallways and the stench of death and madness permeated the entire building. His memory was, at best, blurry and he felt somewhat detached from his surroundings, perhaps from the world itself.

His dreams were dark and confusing, his memories hazy; they had sedated him for the first few days he was here. He couldn't understand what was going on but it seemed like they were looking for something. He had no idea what that could be. He kept dreaming of Vicky. Their quiet evenings together at home, waking up next to her, hanging out with their friends, having a normal life - a mundane one, even, but it was theirs.

He ruffled his messy, black hair. He was a wreck; his already pale skin was almost deathly; his usually vibrant blue eyes had grown cold and weary and his boyishly handsome features were replaced with a rough stubble and worn out look. His mind was hazy, his body sore and he was seeing things that shouldn't be there; sometimes, as he paced around, he found himself at the far end of the room with a single step, and other times time seemed to come to a halt.

He was scared and alone. He kept thinking back on that day a week ago, the day of his 21st birthday:

***

"Mr. St. John, you're late again."

"I'm sorry," Constantine said, as he sat in the back row of the classroom, having arrived just as the lecture started.

"Don't make a habit out of it," Professor Alexander, a man in his early 60's with balding white hair and a goatee said. He didn't press the issue because Constantine was usually punctual but, today, he just felt like something was wrong.

Constantine was feeling pretty far from okay; he suffered from nightmares the entire night, and when he woke up, he felt groggy and uncoordinated, and couldn't keep track of time. The current class, Behavior Analysis, was one of his favorites but today, he simply couldn't pay attention. As his focus waned, his mind began to swirl with a sense of unease. He felt lightheaded and nauseous, and started to sweat profusely. "I must be getting sick," he thought, looking at his shaking hands.

Suddenly, he felt an intense vibration and his vision distorted; he saw his surroundings as if looking through cracked glass and heard a sound of glass shattering in the distance. The world around him seemed to warp and distort, as if reality itself were unraveling at the seams. He felt a creeping sensation of disconnection, as though he were a mere spectator in his own life. With a growing sense of dread gnawing at his insides, Constantine made a hasty excuse and fled the classroom, his heart pounding with an urgency he couldn't explain. He needed to get home, to the safety and familiarity of his apartment, before the strange sensations overwhelmed him completely.

As he hurried down the corridor to leave the campus, his vision blackened and he felt extremely dizzy; reflexively, he reached his hand to the wall to steady himself, but his fingers touched empty air and he fell down. Opening his eyes, he realized he was no longer inside the corridor but, somehow, was lying on the grass in the park right outside the study hall. He did not remember getting there, and the idea of having lapses of consciousness started to freak him out. "Maybe I should go to a hospital," he thought, as he tried to get up. He felt embarrassed about falling down but, as he looked around, it seemed like no one had really noticed him.

With a sigh of relief, he got up and reached in his pockets to find his phone. "I should call Vicky and let her know what's happening," he thought. Vicky was his longtime girlfriend, and they lived together. To his surprise, his pockets were empty, and his phone was nowhere to be found. "I must have left it at home," he muttered. Since he lived about 10 minutes away from the campus on foot, he decided to try and walk to his apartment, hoping to find Vicky there; she was gone when he woke up, and he knew she was trying to set up a surprise party for him, as she did every year for his birthday.

Constantine didn't have a lot of people in his life. His parents had died when he was in high school, and it was around that time that he met Vicky. They were friends for a long time until they eventually confessed their feelings for each other and became a couple. Aside from her, Constantine had a few good friends but, to him, they were true friends – and for that he considered himself extremely lucky; many people in his shoes were completely alone. Meanwhile, he had close friends, an amazing girlfriend, and even managed to get a scholarship to study psychology, which had been his dream. Not at all a bad life, at least in his book.

As he reached a crossing, he realized that the pedestrian light was about to turn red. "Fuck," he thought, "just let me get home already." He decided to risk it and cross and, as he started walking, the world around him seemed to lose color and everyone else felt like they moved extremely slowly. Disoriented, he reached the opposite sidewalk and the world returned to normal. "This is really bad," he thought, and decided to hurry to his apartment building. He reached his building, went inside, and took the elevator to the third floor.

As he exited, he noticed that his apartment door was slightly ajar and seemed broken around the lock. He panicked. What if someone had harmed Vicky? What if someone was still inside? He steeled himself and rushed to his apartment.

As he stumbled through the door of his apartment, Constantine's heart sank at the sight that greeted him. The once cozy interior lay in shambles, furniture overturned, and belongings strewn about as if a whirlwind had torn through the room. Vicky wasn't there. Confusion and fear gripped Constantine's heart as he surveyed the chaos. What had happened here? Who could have done this? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Turning, Constantine found himself face to face with his elderly neighbor, Myra Hindley, a seemingly kind and sweet lady in her late 70's. Mrs. Hindley lived in the apartment across from his and they had a good relationship; she often baked sweets for both him and Vicky and he used to help her around the house with minor repairs. They were good neighbors.

"What happened here, dear?" Mrs. Hindley asked while leaning on her cane. Her voice was syrupy sweet with a hint of concern, but there was a bizarre glint in her eyes that sent shivers down Constantine's spine.

"I-I don't know Mrs. Hindley," Constantine stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "Someone broke in, I think. Have you seen Vicky today?!"

"Oh my, that's awful," she said. "I saw Vicky leave this morning and she hasn't come back yet but I didn't notice anyone come in your apartment."

"At least she wasn't here when this happened," Constantine said in relief. "Please wait here Mrs. Hindley, I will go inside to see if I can find my phone and call the police. Whoever did this might still be around."

However, as he spoke, Constantine watched in horror as Mrs. Hindley's appearance began to shift, her features contorting into a sinister mask of malevolence. With a low, guttural growl, she lunged at him, her hands clawing at his chest with predatory hunger. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" Constantine screamed, panic surging through veins as he stumbled backwards, desperately trying to evade Mrs. Hindley's frenzied assault. But it was no use - her strength was otherworldly, her intentions clear, and he was too weak. He saw blood splattering on her frenzied face, his blood, as he fell to the ground for the second time today. It just wasn't his day. As darkness closed in on him and his vision blurred, Constantine heard Mrs. Hindley's chilling voice echo in his ears.

"Oh my, I forgot," she crooned, her voice dripping with malice. "Happy birthday, Constantine!"

And with that, the world faded to black, swallowed by the abyss of unconsciousness as Constantine's fate hung in the balance, a pawn in a game he could not yet comprehend.