Episode 31

The sterile scent of antiseptic usually did little to bother me, even as a patient. But this time, as I prepped for surgery at the University of Utah Medical Center, it felt different. It was thick, cloying, and seemed to hum with an energy that wasn't entirely medical. I lay on the gurney, the thin gown offering little comfort against the cool air. My mind, a jumble of anxieties about the procedure, drifted. I was waiting for the chief surgeon, a man I’d come to trust implicitly through my many hospital stays. As he entered the room, his usual reassuring presence was amplified. But then I saw them. Standing just behind him, almost as if they were part of his shadow, were two figures. One pulsed with a soft, ethereal light, a luminescence that seemed to emanate from within. It was a gentle glow, warm and inviting, like sunlight on a spring morning. The other figure, however, was starkly different. It was cloaked in a profound darkness, a void that seemed to absorb all light. There was no discernable form, just an overwhelming sense of absence, a chilling stillness that spoke of endings. The contrast between the two was jarring, terrifying. The angelic being radiated peace, while the other… the other was pure, unadulterated death. They were both positioned behind the surgeon, one on each side, as if waiting, observing. My breath hitched. I blinked, hard, trying to shake the vision, to rationalize it away as pre-operative jitters. But they remained, undeniable. The luminous one seemed to nod, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, and a wave of calm washed over me. Then, the darker figure shifted, a subtle lean forward, and a prickle of ice traced its way down my spine. It was a silent, terrifying tableau, a stark reminder of the fragile balance between life and whatever lay beyond. And there I was, caught between them, waiting for my fate to be decided by the man they stood guard over.