Right beside London's big hospital a smaller house stood. Only a few noticed it as they walked by. The house was grey and the windows where painted black, just so you couldn't see what was happening inside. It was called "The house of death" by those few who had experience of being there.
When you had no hope left, when your life was quickly fading and you couldn't stand your family crying at the very last moment in your life, this was the place you went to. The corridors in the house always where silent, so silent. Silent like death itself. Sometimes you could hear cries and crying from the rooms. It was a place with no hope, nor a way out.
In one room, a man laid on a bed with white sheets. He seemed to be in deep sleep. By his side there sat a man. The man was tall and skinny. Tears glimmered in his green eyes. He held the other man's hand, holding his thumb on his wrist, feeling his thin heartbeats. Rare case, this dying man sure been. Two heart attacks, and still alive, on the edge of death, but so alive. He'd seen so many people die before, but it was so hard, every single time. Knowing that you can't save them, knowing that they are beyond all hope, seeing the light in their eyes fade as they go into their eternal sleep. He stroke back some of his brown hair from his forehead and leaved the thoughts for now.
The dying man opened his eyes. It was difficult and his eyelids felt heavy. His head felt empty , it was a terrifying feeling, just like fleeting around in air. Being helpless and weak, able to crash in any moment.
"So Doctor, this is what it feels like." he whispered. "Dying."
"I don't know, I've never died."
"Thinking you're smart now, huh?"
A small smile played on the doctors lips. He nodded and looked up at the Doctor.
Suddenly, without reason, the two men started to laugh. They laughed at death, they laughed at everything that kept they alive. The nurses who passed the door all stopped in surprise, trying to figure out what they were laughing at, happiness was nothing they saw on regular basis.
But the dying man's laughing transformed into coughing and his heart started to rush. When he stopped they sat there quiet again. The dying man breathed heavily and held his hand on his rushing heart.
"I can feel it. It's so close. Tell her, tell Rose I…"
His last sentence stayed unfinished as the light in his eyes went out.
The doctor sighted.
"I'm so sorry. I truly am." He stood up from his chair and began to walk towards the door.
The dead man woke up in a white corridor. Everything seemed to shine and he put his hand up to his eyes to cover them from the light, he stood up.
On the walls there were doors. He walked up to one of them and suddenly he realised what it was. Inside the doors moments of his life were played on repeat. He opened the first door. Oh, from his childhood of course. He sighed. Such a lonely, lonely childhood. He kept on walking and reached the next door. A laugh escaped his lips. Teenage him, sitting in a small basement, making plans of taking over the world together with his best friend. Then, his eyes went dark as he realised what was coming. The war.