San Marco Hospital

Where reality begins to forget itself

— Did you see that?

— See what, Rafaela?

— Look… I’ve got goosebumps.

— Woman… what is it now?

— I saw it, Márcia. I saw that thing again.

Márcia frowned. She had doubted Rafaela’s visions before… but something now refused to call it imagination.

June 2, 2030 — Kandor, the gray little princess of the north.

In recent years, the city had received a grand hospital: San Marco Hospital. Its three hundred thousand inhabitants had felt safer ever since.

Daily life inside HSM became, for some, a cold home soaked in antiseptic odors; for others, a silent threat to sanity. There were also those who bargained with death every dawn — and those who somehow seemed to dictate who stayed and who left.

— Alan, you know there’s something in this hospital, don’t you?

— Something like what?

— Rafaela has been seeing things… didn’t you hear? Where have you been, distracted?

— It’s not distraction, Gabi. It’s lack of time for superstitions. Help me out here.

— So your case is denial?

— Spare me. Dona Luzia is unwell and needs me. Go check on Alberto — he probably needs you too.

— I’m going. No need to remind me.

Corridor 3 — Room 10

Dona Luzia had been admitted a little over a week ago. Her fragile bones could no longer support the weight of her own body, and even breathing seemed to require effort.

— Good morning, dear Luzia.

— Oh Alan… help me, son… I feel like my body is turning into sand.

— Easy… this medication will bring comfort. Is Ana Lúcia coming today?

— Yes, later this morning.

— You have a daughter of gold.

— Don’t I know it? I thank God every day.

— You’ll get better, for sure… I need to go now. If you need anything, press the button.

— I will… go with God, and may He bless this medicine.

Still in Corridor 3 — Room 16

— Good morning, Mr. Alberto. How are we today?

— Hungry… very hungry.

— Your IV is out. Have you been moving a lot?

— I think I fight the sheets while I sleep.

— You rascal… let me fix this.

— But I want to eat.

— Don’t make it harder. You know you can’t yet.

— I’m going crazy…

— Let’s not lose faith. Everything will be alright.

The restrictions ate away at Alberto more than the illness itself. Gabi felt it the way a daughter would.

Corridor 5 — Room 18

Sid, eleven years old, fought a silent battle against his own body. The limitations it carried crept forward with every dawn.

— Good morning, dear Sid…

He didn’t answer. He simply looked at Rafaela — a gaze far too heavy for someone who had barely begun to live.

Her heart tightened.

— Come… shall we take a bath?

Sid shook his head no.

— My little angel… I’m here. You didn’t bathe yesterday. Let’s go slowly? Let me check your temperature… damn, you’re burning with fever… I’ll give you an antipyretic.

As she prepared the medication, Rafaela felt it again.

That…

As if something had crossed the corridor — without sound, without footsteps… just an absence displacing the air.

She turned her head quickly.

Nothing.

And yet… goosebumps.

— Here, my angel. This medicine will bring your fever down.

Sid was so weak he could barely respond. Rafaela covered him and left him lying down.

His mother entered shortly after — deep, heavy eyes carrying a fatigue no one should bear.

— I medicated him. He had a fever.

— Thank you so much… I’ll stay with him now.

— If you need anything, press that button. I’ll come running.

— I truly appreciate it.

Rafaela left — her sensitivity followed her wherever she went.

Passing room 22, still in corridor 5, she decided to step in.

— Albano… — she called the 28-year-old man, admitted two days ago with intense body pain. — Albano, talk to me.

His eyes were wide open, fixed on the corner of the room. Rafaela felt a strange shift in the air.

A wrong smell — one that belonged to no hospital.

— Albano… what are you seeing?

— She… she just left…

— Who, Albano? Who left?

— The ballerina… she danced for me… danced…

— What ballerina is that, young man?

— I saw her… and I feel different.

— Different how?

— I want to get up. I think I can walk.

Albano rose with an absurd burst of energy — and it frightened Rafaela.

— Wait! Easy now. You were in severe pain, don’t forget.

— It’s all gone. The ballerina took it.

— Sit down. I’ll call Dr. Alencar.

— Doctor…

— Yes, good morning!

— Good morning. Could you come here please? Room 22.

When they arrived…

Rafaela stopped at the doorway.

The world seemed to shrink around her.

Albano was on the floor.

Pale. Motionless.

For a second, she forgot how to breathe.

— He’s dead — said the doctor after examining him. — There’s nothing more to be done.

Rafaela looked toward the corner of the room.

The air.

The perfume.

Still lingered.

— He said he saw a ballerina dancing for him.

— Likely terminal delirium — the doctor replied, already walking away.

Rafaela did not argue. But something inside her refused that easy explanation.

She knew delirium — and that… was not one.

The air still felt slightly displaced — as if someone had crossed the room seconds earlier.

She left.

She needed movement.

She needed to breathe.

In the corridor, she found Márcia organizing some charts.

— Márcia…

— Rafa? You look pale. What happened?

Rafaela swallowed hard.

— Albano is gone.

Márcia covered her mouth.

— No… I spoke to him yesterday.

— So did I. Just now he said he saw a ballerina dancing for him.

Márcia frowned.

— Did you see it too?

Rafaela shook her head.

— You should’ve seen his eyes… they weren’t the eyes of someone delirious.

Márcia shivered subtly.

— God… this hospital gets stranger every day.

Rafaela tried to compose herself.

— I can’t think about that now. We have living patients who need us.

Márcia seemed to remember something.

— Oh! A new patient came in earlier — corridor 7, room 23.

— Serious?

— Severe shortness of breath. Poor guy arrived almost unconscious.

— Damn… name?

— Filipe Trodsk. Thirty-five.

Rafaela took a deep breath, brow tightening.

— I’ll stop by later… but first I need to see Sid.

The rain continued punishing Kandor — relentless for days, as if the sky had forgotten how to stop.

Corridor 5 — Room 18

Rafaela pushed the door slowly.

The monitor was off.

Sid breathed with difficulty.

Half-closed eyes… lost somewhere between sleep and something she couldn’t name.

— Sid… my angel… how are you?

No response.

She searched for the thermometer. Nothing.

She opened the door and called Gabi, who was passing through the corridor, borrowing the device.

When she returned… she froze.

Sid was sitting on the bed.

Still.

Eyes fixed on a corner of the room.

He slowly nodded… as if agreeing with someone.

Rafaela felt her skin prickle.

The air felt colder. Wrong.

— Sid… what are you seeing?

The boy tilted his head.

As if listening.

— It was there… until just now…

A heavy silence fell over the room.

— Who was there, my angel?

Sid blinked slowly.

— The shadow.

Rafaela felt her heart beat faster.

— What shadow?

— The strange one… but he said I shouldn’t go yet.

The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet.

Before she could ask more, the door opened.

— Son!

His mother rushed in.

Sid looked at her… and suddenly jumped out of bed.

Steady.

Effortless.

No fever.

— Mom! Look! I’m fine now!

The woman hugged him tightly, voice breaking:

— Praise God…

Rafaela touched the boy’s forehead.

Normal temperature.

Minutes ago, he was burning.

It made no sense.

— Rosa… let’s take him for tests.

Sid then reached his arms toward Rafaela.

She picked him up.

The boy kissed her cheek.

And whispered:

— He saw you too.

A chill ran down the nurse’s spine.

— Who saw, my love? — his mother asked.

Sid answered with disturbing naturalness.

— The shapeless shadow.

Rafaela exchanged a quick look with Rosa.

Not now. Not there.

— Let’s take care of those exams — she said, controlling her voice.

As they left the room, Rafaela had a silent certainty:

Something moved through that hospital. And it did not ask permission.

Standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall — absorbed, distant, reflective — she didn’t notice time slipping away…

Sid’s mother left the exam room radiant. She stopped in front of Rafaela, thanking her like someone freed from an abyss.

The blonde nurse, one of San Marco’s oldest staff members, smiled, blessed her… but inside, she didn’t understand — the equation didn’t add up.

What had cured Sid?

How could that be possible?

What had taken Albano?

She said goodbye to Alan, Gabi, and Márcia, remembered she had something to do, and left HSM.

On the way home, she picked up her phone and called Júlia…

— Can you talk?

— Yes, friend, any news?

— Want to grab something to eat? Can you?

— Sure, where?

— Relics of the Gods?

— Great choice — see you in five minutes?

— Yes, deal.

Relics of the Gods

— It’s so good to see you, friend. It’s been too long — we can’t drift apart like this.

— True, Rafa… I promise we’ll fix that. And that hospital?

— Girl, you know I see things… since childhood, right?

— I do, you’ve told me your stories.

— So… I’m not sure if what I see is the hospital… or me.

They burst out laughing…

— Don’t you have a suspicion?

— I think it’s the hospital. But tell me — how are you?

— I feel really good, honestly.

— Aren’t you going to find someone, Júlia?

— Are you, Rafaela?

— You know I’m fine alone.

— Same here.

Júlia and Rafaela talk, catch up, eat and drink.

They say goodbye and promise to meet more often.

Rafaela goes home…

She parks her Honda in the garage and walks inside.

Heads straight to the shower.

As she bathes, lost in thought, she reflects on her life — her disturbances, the images, the things she saw… things that never brought fear, only curiosity.

The water runs over her body, bringing relaxation. She stands there for a while with her eyes closed, simply feeling the moment… feeling alive, aware.

But when she opens her eyes, she notices something moving slowly on the other side of the shower glass. The view is blurred — hard to make out.

— Who’s there? What do you want? Can I help you?

The dark, blurred shape seems to hesitate, remains still for a few seconds, then slowly diminishes before Rafa’s eyes — until it disappears.

She opens the shower door. Nothing. No sign that anything had been there.

A faint discomfort lingers. She gets dressed and goes to her bedroom.

She reads Metamorphosis — Franz Kafka. And eventually falls asleep.

The next day

Rafaela arrives early at HSM.

— Good morning, Márcia, good morning Alan, good morning Gabi!

— Rafa, can you check on Filipe?

— Okay Márcia, I already had that in mind — I’m heading there. Did you guys have coffee already?

— Yes — Gabi replies.

— Wow, you didn’t wait for me!

— We didn’t expect you this early, Rafa.

— Fair enough, I’ll just grab a quick coffee and go see Filipe.

In the corridor leading to Filipe’s room, something happens — unseen by anyone.

It rises from the floor like living clay.

For a moment it resembles a trunk… then collapses.

A curvature suggests a face — but there are no eyes.

The mass wavers, loses form… melts across the cold floor… spreading slowly, as if giving up on being something.

Rafaela enters the corridor — there is nothing there anymore. She walks absently toward room 23.

She pushes the door.

— Filipe Trodsk, very good morning — how have you been? And your shortness of breath?

— I felt some discomfort during the night.

— I’ll administer a bronchodilator. It will help your breathing.

Rafaela medicates Filipe, who thanks her.

— Thank you… please come back more often.

— I promise, Filipe, but if you need me just press that button there.

— Right, I will — thank you again.

Rafaela leaves room 23 in corridor 7 and heads to corridor 3.

Room 10

— Dona Luzia, good morning!

— My dear, so good to see you.

— I’m happy to see you too!

— The faceless things were here with me. They said I needed to call for you… and look how incredible, you showed up.

— What faceless things are those, Dona Luzia?

The air shifts. Something dense fills the room.

— Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You know them as well as I do.

— I have no idea what you’re talking about. I know nothing about faceless forms. Were you medicated today, Luzia?

Luzia falls silent — only staring at Rafaela with an oppressive gaze.

— Answer me Luzia, were you medicated?

— Alan medicated me. Please leave… we don’t want you here. You’re not welcome anymore.

Rafaela doesn’t reply.

For the first time… she feels staying would be a mistake.

She leaves without looking back.

She goes to the kitchen to drink water.

— Alan, Dona Luzia snapped at me.

— She’s always sweet with me.

— Go figure… I felt strange.

— Did you do something to her?

— Of course not, Alan! What kind of question is that?

— I just can’t imagine Dona Luzia being rude.

Alan’s words stir deep disturbance inside Rafaela.

She doesn’t know what she could have done to deserve such hostility.

Rafaela shakes it off — and walks through corridor 5.

Corridor 5 already took one… and returned another, Rafaela thinks.

As she walks, she doesn’t notice the floor seems covered in something. A dark, thick liquid. When Márcia enters the corridor, everything returns to normal.

Márcia stops and calls her attention.

— Friend, are you okay?

— A little confused… but I’ll be fine. And you?

— I was in corridor 3 — room 16, with Alberto. He was strange, friend.

— Strange how?

— Can you believe he said he was seeing other versions of himself?

— What do you mean, Márcia? — Rafaela’s voice comes out louder than expected.

— I don’t know… I just left.

Rafaela runs — literally runs down corridor 5 toward corridor 3.

In Corridor 3 — she walks to Room 16.

She pushes the door open.

— Alberto…

He was staring toward an armchair.

— My younger self is speaking… don’t interrupt… he speaks very softly.

Rafaela feels something she cannot explain — but she cannot see what Alberto sees.

— I can barely get up… near the table there’s another me, older… early thirties… he says I should join them.

— Alberto, look at me… don’t listen to that.

— But they are me… how could I not listen?

— There’s no joining them… and that’s not a good thing.

— They’re looking at you in a bad way…

In a sudden impulse, Rafaela takes control.

— Listen here.

She turns slowly in place.

— Mr. Alberto is not going anywhere. Leave him alone… and go back to wherever you came from.

Alberto smiles.

— Look… they’re disappearing…

— They’re gone? — Rafaela asks.

— Yes… isn’t that incredible?

— And you… how are you feeling?

— Very well… help me up?

She helps him.

— What do you want to do now?

— I think I’m fine… I want to leave here.

— Easy… I’ll call the doctor. Sit and wait for me.

— Don’t take long.

She returns with a wheelchair.

— What’s that for?

— We’re going to run some tests.

— Where is it? I can walk…

— It’s nearby… we just need to make sure everything is okay.

Alberto walks as if he had never been limited by anything.

Rafaela watches… shakes her head… and heads to the kitchen.

But the kitchen is no longer there.

Corridor 3 seemed longer than it should be.

She stops.

Breathes deeply.

There were no doors.

No rooms.

That didn’t look like HSM.

Only then does she notice the silhouette of a man ahead.

The image tries to stabilize… fails… tries again.

She watches… tries to understand…

And then recognizes him.

Her father.

— Dad…

She calls… but there is no response.

She starts running.

The corridor is dark.

The only light comes from him — flickering… unstable…

— Talk to me… what’s happening?

She slows down.

For a moment — the image stabilizes.

Real.

Present.

— Daughter… I… need…

Her chest fills with hope.

It was her father — whom she hadn’t seen since childhood.

She moves forward.

— Rafaela…

A voice comes from behind now.

— Rafaela.

She hesitates.

Stops.

Her father ahead was saying something she couldn’t understand.

Alan approaches urgently.

— Come with me… there’s nothing you can do there…

She looks forward again.

The corridor is no longer dark.

There is no father.

— Let’s have some coffee… I’m here.

She breathes… calms down.

Rafaela doesn’t look back again.

But she keeps a certainty — with an impossible calm:

The hospital now… knew her name.

— Were you conscious, Rafa?

— I don’t think so — I saw my father, Alan. By the way, thank you very much!

— Oh, it’s nothing, that’s what friends are for.

— I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t called me.

— Come on, let’s have some coffee together.

— Where’s Márcia?

— She had to go home early, I don’t know why.

— I’ll call her later.

A voice calls Alan urgently.

— Alan, Alan… come to Corridor 7, Dr. Robert needs you.

It was Gabi. She takes Alan and they head to Corridor 7.

Rafaela, watching Alan leave — looks toward Corridor 3, feels drawn, and follows it.

Corridor 3 seemed too long — once again…

Rafaela walks faster now, wanting to understand.

The environment seems to receive her — no rooms, too long, too cold…

Ahead… a light. Rafaela tries to understand, tries to decipher…

— Rafa!

It was Rubem’s voice — her great love.

— Rafa my love, it’s me.

— Rubem… how is this possible… you died three years ago…

— I’m here, Rafa.

Rubem’s image trembles, as if struggling to exist.

The light around him pulses softly.

Rubem steps through a door of light and extends his hand.

— Come with me… there is no more pain here.

Rafaela does not hesitate.

She steps through the door of light.

And she was never seen again.

The End 🌹