Hospitals. Oh, how Mark loathed the establishments. The metal creaking of gurneys being wheeled dismally down a sterile enviroment. The morbid chimes of life-clutching machinery, beeping away as the being hooked up to it struggled against the hand of Death. All of it he despised with a passion.

There was no particular reason for Mark to hate hospitals. He didn't fear them, although he wasn't fond of tests concerning needles and blood. The places themselves were full of a plethora of people and personalities. Perhaps he hated it, because he could see the Reapers wandering around, escorting souls to their designated Afterlife. It had been a scare the first time Mark had seen the cloaked figures roaming about. The memory of his fright was something he'd never forget.

He had awoken from his slumber, induced by the accident at school and a helping of anesthesia, only to find more darkness. With his heart thrumming in his chest, Mark had bolted upright, and attempted to open his eyes as wide as possible. The thought of being blind flickered through Mark's mind, and he had known in the pit of his stomach that had to be the answer; he sunk into the pillows of the bed.

Instantly, he realized he was in a hospital, due to the plastic-like sound the sheets gave off as he slid down into them. The fact that he heard nurses giggling outside of his room also fueled the fact that he was in a hospital and not in the nurse's office at school. Something flicked at the side of the darkness, however, and caused Mark to instinctively turn his head in that direction.

A teenage boy, with what looked like four different colors in his hair, was escorting an elderly woman across the doorway. Yet, Mark heard an incessant, continuous beep coming from the direction the two had came, and heard feet pounding towards it. Vaguely, he remembered he heard a woman's voice state that Mrs. Marlow had gone into cardiac arrest. Mark realized, in slight horror, that the boy was wearing a black cloak, and carrying something in his other hand that Mark couldn't quite see. A lump had immediately risen to his throat, and made him feel nauseous.

However, his fear was short-lived, for soon after seeing the Reaper and the old woman's spirit, Zaimix appeared. Mark still didn't believe that he had this special ability after Zaimix explained the Reapers, but he remembered the information since it was intriguing. Apparently, the Grim Reaper had trouble tending to such large numbers of people dying daily, so he nabbed souls who were wandering in limbo to help him. Usually, these souls were ones who weren't quite ready to die, but who didn't want to live, either. Being a Reaper was a nice solution to such souls, for they could wander around the world, and visit many places. All the while they didn't have to tend to the rigors of usual life, like taxes and having a 'real' job.

The deceased soul's Afterlife destination was interesting, too. Apparently, it simply depended on what the person believed in, or where they wanted to go. So, if someone believed they should go to Heaven, that's where they went; if someone else believed in going to a place made of chocolate, that's where they went.

Mark shivered at the thought, though. And instantly closed his mind to any Afterlife his mind may wish to create. He figured he'd rather jump that hurdle when he came to it.

"Mr. Monro, will you please wipe that sour look off of your face?" inquired Mark's doctor, Steven Matter, in a stern tone, "You look positively demonic with that scowl."

"Sorry, sir." Mumbled Mark idly as his memory was cut to an abrupt end by the doctor's words. Quickly, Mark wiped all his emotions from his face, a talent of his that proved helpful in many situations. Quietly, Mark watched his doctor leaf through a manilla folder, or scribble things down. Soon enough, the check-up started to commence, which went along the usual, annoying, routine.

Dr. Matter had treated Mark after the accident that lead to the young man's current disability. Ever since, Mark had declared he wanted that doctor to check-up on him. It was somehow comforting to the young man that he could see his doctor, and not be in total darkness during an examination.

As he sat idly on the cold examination table, Mark attempted to ignore the poking and prodding of his fourty-something year old doctor. Instead, Mark decided to debate whether to ask Dr. Matter if he was human. The blind young man couldn't view anything that wasn't magical, or something that had some sort of magical blood in its veins. Vaguely, the young man noted that his doctor looked a bit younger than usual; there was a pinker tinge on the man's cheeks.

"?" piped Mark up, when the man started to wander back to Mark's manilla folder. Steven Matter glanced over at Mark, while reaching for the folder and pulling out a pencil from his pocket. His eyes, a calculating brown, stared into Mark's own blind blue eyes.

"Yes, Mark. What is it?" questioned the doctor, as he scribbled an observation down. Mark hesitated, though. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to ask the old man about his heritage. Chances were didn't even know he had magical blood in him, and that he was simply a hybrid. Yet, Mark's curiosity gnawed away at him.

Sighing, Mark closed his eyes, and asked, "Are you not human, ?"

The clatter of Dr. Matter's pencil as it became associated with the floor resounded around the room. Before the last bounce of the pencil had impacted the floor, had locked the door and was holding Mark by the throat. His grip was much too strong, and firm for a man 's age.

In the back of Mark's mind, a smug Chesire cat-like grin spread across his thoughts; it always made Mark feel good to be right. The young man opened his eyes, and stared up at the doctor who now threatened to crush his windpipe. Unable to help himself, Mark quipped, "You know, a simple 'yes' would have sufficed, sir."

Dr. Steven Matter leaned close, his eyes narrowing and a frown on his lips. Mark stared back, and awaited for the doctor to finish studying him with such a suspicious eye. Silence weighed down in the room, but the muffled outside world attempted to weasel into the office with loud laughter from raucous nurses, and the occasional squeak of a gurney or wheel chair. Eventually, Mark got fed up with this staring contest, and snapped, "Doctor, I see you. Get your face out of mine, and I'll answer any questions you are itching to ask."

The doctor leaned away, but still eyed Mark uncertainly, "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Am I someone who kids around?" shot back the young man, icily. The doctor sighed, and conceded on that point. As the older man took a seat, Mark waited for the doctor to come to terms with this odd bit of information. A few moments passed, marked by the ticks of the clock that hung on the wall. Mark waited patiently for Dr. Matter to say something, anything.

"So, you're not blind, Mark?" questioned the doctor, hesitantly.

"No. I am blind." said Mark, matter-of-factly. He sighed when Dr. Matter shot him a look of entwined confusion and irritation. Since Mark now knew the doctor was a legendary creature from some sort of lore, the young man decided to inform Dr. Matter on his current state. He explained to the doctor, slowly, about how after becoming blind he gained a different sight; the ability to see creatures that weren't human, or altogether human.

"The rest of my world is dark, doctor. Save for creatures that aren't fully human, and whatever those creatures touch. Do you understand?" Mark concluded, but felt as if he was explaining the Birds and the Bees to a child of two. Dr. Matter just stared at him, one eyebrow cocked and a cynical glint in his eyes.

"Want more proof, doctor?" questioned Mark as he crossed his arms, "I've seen the Reapers. In fact, one is heading towards at this moment."

Dr. Matter's eyes widened, and his head snapped to look out at the hallway, through the tiny slits the broken blinds never seemed to block out. When nothing came into view, the doctor slowly glanced back at Mark. The young man only smiled; he knew he didn't have to tell Dr. Matter that Mark had fooled him. It was a fun test, Mark decided, with a slight smirk. Based on the doctor's fearful reaction, Mark knew the doctor was already introduced to the Reapers.

Silence again fell into place between them. Dr. Matter stared at Mark, still unsure if he should trust the young man or not. Eventually, the doctor reached down to retrieve his almost forgotten pencil. An idea flashed through his elderly mind, and he sat up straight, staring determinedly at Mark. The doctor held up the pencil, and without a word, started to move it back and forth in front of Mark's face.

The young man shook his head, and sighed in a irritated ton, but followed the pencil with his eyes. Left. Right. Left again. Cross-eyed. Up. Down. Cross-eyed, again. Right. Cross-eyed.

"Doctor, I know I look funny with my eyes crossed, but can you stop that?" Snapped Mark, bringing his eyes to rest on the doctor's face, "It gives me a headache."

A slight chuckle fell from Dr. Matter's lips. He settled back in his chair, and set the pencil back down on the counter. The doctor grinned at Mark, having gained back his cool. After all that evidence, the doctor was hard pressed to find a reason to not believe Mark. Yet, one question did gnaw at his mind, "Well, I believe you, now."

"I'd hope so." Interjected Mark, before the doctor went on.

"However, I'm interested to know what exactly you believe I am." finished Dr. Matter, as if Mark never interrupted. A slight, prideful smirk pulled across Dr. Matter's face. Superiority radiated from the old man, now, and Mark was slightly amazed that a usually humble old man could turn into such a superiority complex.

"Don't get mad if I guess wrong, doctor." said Mark, quickly.

"Why would I get mad?" The doctor's smirk grew into a grin. The amount of confidence oozing from him was stifling. Mark merely shrugged in reply, but didn't answer right away. Instead, he mulled over his knowledge of Dr. Matter.

"Well," stated Mark, his confident edge slightly shaken by the doctor's current facade, "I've seen children get along calmly with you, even when they need a shot. Whereas, in the waiting room, they were rambunctious little monsters. And, judging by the easy access of blood the hospital can gain, I'd have to guess: vampire."

It sounded so ludicrous to Mark, as Dr. Matter stared at him. The smirk never faltered, but the doctor did raise an eyebrow as if to say, 'Is that your final answer?'. Mark gathered up his strangling confidence, though, and held his head up high. It seemed like a very logical answer to him, even if it was probably every pre-teen girl's fantasy.

"You've seen my reflection, though. And I am sure you've seen me out and about in the sun." Dr. Matter's voice was calm, as if he knew Mark was wrong. Mark thoughts faltered again, unsure, but he swiftly rebounded:

"Humans are great story tellers, and can greatly exaggerate, doctor. I'm sure you know that by now." Mark shoved all doubt aside, and stared levelly at his doctor. The young man was certain he was correct, or else the old bat would have already laughed in his face. There was no doubt in Mark's mind now, and he was going to stand firmly by his choice; no matter how much Dr. Matter tried to influence him.

"Well done." Laughed the doctor. His laugh sounded hollow to Mark, as if it wasn't true. From Mark's understanding, though, vampires were the actors and actresses of life. Every face, every smile, every laugh was a show put on for a select audience. Vampires rarely showed their true emotions, much to many creatures' wonder. To Mark, it seemed like a fair defensive technique: Keep your emotions in reign, and you'll never be hurt, never weak. "Why do you choose now to tell me, Mark?"

"Well, you could have unwittingly been half-elf, or some hybrid." replied Mark, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. It was time for twenty questions, and Mark braced himself for this probing mind's curiosity. Knowing this man, he'd analyze everything Mark said, and piece together all the information he was about to squeeze from the young man.

"Then, why did you ask if you weren't entirely sure?"

Mark grinned, as he pointed to his own cheeks, "You looked younger today, and you glowed more brightly than usual. I realized that glow was much more the style of a full-breed, than a hybrid. I simply asked out of curiosity."

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know." retorted the doctor, his facade melting away into a more neutral tone. It seemed, to Mark, they were going to be on level ground now. Or, at least as level ground as you could gain with vampires.

"Yeah, but cats have nine lives." volleyed Mark, matter-of-factly, before adding, "I'd rather not be compared to cats. I'm more of a dog person myself."

A scoff left the doctor's lips, and he shook his head. He was slightly amazed that Mark was taking this so well. Usually, should a human discover their doctor was supernatural, they'd never set foot in a hospital again. However, Mark was sitting there, being his usual, argumentative self. Crossing his arms, the vampire doctor smirked, "Clever smartass."

"I do try." Mark smiled, sarcastically.

"You don't need to try," sniggered the vampire, shaking his head as his eyes travelled over to the door. This 'exam' was going a tad long, realized the doctor. Mark's mother would be frantic, no doubt. The woman had an unpleasant, and stressed mind that continuously fed her worrisome scenarios. However, a few more questions needed to be cleared up before let Mark go, "You won't tell anyone, right?"

The blind young man gave his doctor a cynical glare, and the vampire smiled. Of course, no one would believe the young man should he decide to tell anyone. Dr. Matter knew this well enough, but he wanted to make sure Mark knew as well. Mark was one of his favorite patients, after all, and it'd be a shame to see the young lad sent to an asylum. Just as Dr. Matter had thought, though, Mark was intelligent enough to keep his mouth shut. Without a reply from Mark, the doctor nodded, and stated, "Good lad. How's your family taking this new found 'power', though?"

"Have you seen my family?" asked Mark incredulously, "If my mother found out, she'd send me to therapy. Rosie is the only one who believes me, and that's only because she's young enough to still see the creatures I see. Though, I'm sure she'll end up seeing them for the rest of her life, with all these cases of mine she gets caught up in."

"Cases?" Pure curiosity rang true in the doctor's voice, "What kind of cases?"

Mark sighed, and shifted on the examination table before answering, "A myling case, a few rogue bogey monsters, a ghost, and other creatures. Basically, anything that finds a way to cause havoc."

The doctor chuckled, "You're quite the hero, Mark."

"Oh please," groaned Mark, rolling his eyes, "I have anger management issues. These creatures a just a nice way to let out my frustrations. That last bogey monster I really messed up; remember that 'raccoon' bite I came in with?"

"I knew that bite was too acidic to be a raccoon's." laughed Dr. Matter, good-naturedly. Again, a hollow tinge to the laugh made Mark think the doctor was being polite, or hiding his true feelings. Or, maybe the doctor simply chose how to feel. Blocking your emotions for hundreds of years may result in losing the ability for spontaneous feelings.

Still chuckling, though, the doctor got up from his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He organized the manilla folder that held all of Mark's information, adding a quick, coded note to the other creature doctors in the hospital that Mark could see them. Once that was scribbled down, he turned to Mark, who apparently figured this little examination was over, for he was already buttoning back up his shirt.

"This was by far one of my more amusing check-ups." stated Dr. Matter, "However, as entertaining as you are, I do have other patients in need of my services. Good day, Mark. And tell you mother you're as healthy as a donkey."

A look of confusion crossed Mark's eyes. Just as the doctor opened the door, Mark called after him, "Isn't the saying 'healthy as a horse'?"

Looking over his shoulder, the doctor flashed Mark a very toothy grin, "Yes, but you're more like a stubborn ass, Mark."