Beep beep beep beep

The sound of the machines keep me awake when I should be sleeping.

The lights at this hour are dimmed, but they make weird shadows on the ceiling.

There are hums too, keeping my mind in an agitated state of wakefulness.

Nearby I hear the night nurses whispered tones.

Next to me, in an adjacent bed, separated only by a thin blue curtain, is an elderly gent, whom, I am led to believe, has been admitted for chest pains.

He snores, then stirs, then I hear, do I really hear? the words that chill me to my core:

“I will slit your throat and feed you to the dogs.”

Did he really just say those words?

Is he awake or is he asleep?

Who was he referring to?

Was it me?

Am I in danger?

My pulse starts to quicken.

I start to tremble.

I start to sweat.

He seemed like such a nice man.

Is he a killer?

Good Lord am I five feet away from a killer?

Should I tell someone?

Should I raise an alarm?

I hesitate.

I reach for my buzzer to call a nurse.

I press the button.

A few moments later a nurse arrives at my bedside.

“Mr Ross, are you okay?” she asks.

Will I tell her what I heard?

What if it was my imagination?

I take a deep breath.

I tell her what I heard.

She laughs.

She realises I am serious.

She is shocked.

We hear movement from behind the curtain.

We look around.

We see a shadow.

We hear a scream!