Perched on the corner of a filing cabinet, I chuckled quietly at the chaos I had stirred up. I watched the panicked nursing staff rushing into another room, pushing a crash cart. Earlier, around the corner I stroked the heart of an old man, causing it to flutter erratically. Those nurses did not react so predictably. They were seasoned staff, not easily ruffled by my antics. Or maybe they were just more drowsy. The night shift was my domain, my favorite time being the wee hours of the morning when humans were snuggled in bed, dreaming.

Bored with my usual task, that of  bringing erotic dreams to women as they slumber, I decided to spend some time in my playground. Using some of my powers of stimulation, I drifted in and out of rooms, trailing my fingertip over one chest here, another there. The palpitations I brought on were just enough to stir the human guardians of life from their stagnant lull before the end of their shift. It was so interesting to me to observe as humans watched the rhythms on a half dozen monitors, as if there was something they could do about it if I or my lovely friend, Death, decided to stir a heart to rebel. The nurses often were most drowsy during my playtime, and I felt I did them a favor by giving them an adrenaline rush.

This morning, I had not been disappointed; I had succeeded in ruffling the nurses on four floors of this hospital. Sitting back I grinned in satisfaction, enjoying the confusion and hustle flowing around me. It was the closest I came to feeling alive. Though I was tucked out of the way, occasionally a nurse would pull open the cabinet I rested on, oblivious to me legs dangling there. Other times, they would brush through me, a sensation I was used to, but still found unpleasant.

"Excuse me," a voice said nearby. At first I ignored it, counting it as part of the background din of my created chaos.

"Please, excuse me," I heard again, more insistent this time. I looked in the direction from which it came, expecting two humans to be in each others way, neither willing to budge. Such stubborn creatures. A young brunette was looking my way, so I turned to see who she might be talking to. There was no one else nearby.

Turning back to her, I frowned. I never talked to any of the humans I meddled with. They couldn't see me anyway, just felt my wicked ministrations and fantasized about what had just happened to them.

"I need to get into the drawer. Could you please move?" she said impatiently.

I slipped off the top of the rickety metal cabinet, out of her way. A curious frown creased my brow. "You can see me?"

Throwing a brief glance my way, she said, "Of course I can."

She riffled through the draw, grabbing a small machine of some sort. She turned and began to hurry away, but I tried to reach out to her. No one saw me. I was a dream, a nightmare, but never gazed upon directly. As I moved to grasp her arm to stop her, my fingers actually brushed her arm before they faded through her flesh and formed a fist instead.

She twisted toward me, walking backwards a few steps before running into a wall. She began to shake her head in disbelief. "No, no, no. Not again," she said, distress written on her oval face.

"You can see me?" I said again to her. "What do you mean 'not again'?"

Panic filled her lovely hazel eyes. She reached out a tentative hand toward my shoulder, as if she were going to poke me to see if I were real. As she jabbed her finger into it, I felt a sharp poke.

"Ow! What did you do that for?" I asked, grinning at the sensation I had felt. In my line of work, I do not get to feel much.

"Oh my God," she cried, drawing her finger back and rubbing it vigorously with her other hand. "This can't be happening again."

"What do you..." I was cut off when one of her co-workers called out to her.

"Candy! Come on, we need that pulse ox. What is up with you?" yelled the plump blonde nurse from the doorway of my last victim.

"C-c-coming," she answered, sidling away from me. She rushed toward the room, and I effortlessly paced her. "Leave me alone. I don't have anything to do with you. I can't help you."

"What could I possibly need with a human?" I asked her, my curiosity piqued.

She frowned at me, and put on a burst of speed and disappeared into the room. I followed at a leisurely pace, and watched the hustle perched on the machine they were using to push breath into the unfortunate soul on the hospital bed. I maybe had gone too far, or perhaps he was just a little too frail to tolerate my play. I watched the cluster of people feverishly trying to revive the poor old man. Candy frequently shot glances my way, distracted by my presence. I knew there was no bringing this one back and I shot her a shrug.

They gave up a few minutes later. Slowly the masses of people made their way through the door, trickling out one by one. Finally, it was just me and Candy. She worked to clean up the trash that had been strewn around the room and set about washing the body of the deceased. Once she was done, she gently pulled a stiff white sheet over his face.

"Did you do this?" she asked me.

"Who? Me?" I asked innocently, putting an appalled hand on my heart. Seeing her deadpan stare, I answered, "Maybe."

"Why?"

"I didn't inted to kill him. I was just having a little fun."

She whirled on me and and snapped, "A little fun? A little fun! How is killing someone a little fun?"

I was not used to the emotion affecting me. Was this guilt? I did not like it at all.