The curtain, a funeral pall,

Comes down with the rush of a storm,

While the angels, all pallid and wan,

Uprising, unveiling, affirm

That the play is the tragedy, "Man",

And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

-The Conqueror Worm by Edgar Allan Poe

Ruri Miyazaki flat lined on a Wednesday night at 12:47 pm.

Four and a half minutes later, her pulse restarted.

One week later, I woke up.

Confusion settled in quickly as my sight adjusted and I took in my surroundings. Hospital? Why was I in a hospital? Just as I thought that, my mind registered the stiff pain pulsing throughout my body. It wasn't horrible. I suspected that was because of the medication they were pumping through the IV.

I looked around the room. Sun shone through the cracks of the curtain. In the distance, I heard the sound of birds chirping. Beside me, a bouquet of flowers and a few cards were stacked neatly on a shelf. I reached over, wincing slightly as my ribs and arm twitched. I felt around the flowers for a card, if there was one at all. A corner of what I was fairly sure was paper brushed against my fingers, but as I grabbed for it, it moved out of my reach. Sighing, I make a mental note to check it out again later, and reach for the larger cards.

I frowned. The letter was in Japanese. I adjusted my position to get a better look when strands of blonde hair fell into my vision. I dropped the card.

Blonde? What? I fingered a strand of the hair, examining it closely. Scared, I push the covers off of me, struggling to stand without falling as I headed toward the window. I pushed the curtains away and stared at the faint reflection.

This was not my face.

I grabbed at my cheek, prodded at the dark rings under my eyes, traced the slope of my nose. This was not me. I had noticeably more Asiatic features, although the blonde was obviously European, and the wide-spaced, Slavic shape of my eyes – which, to my utter shock – were a startling lilac shade . By now, the shaking in my legs was bad enough that I began to worry that if I didn't sit soon, I would fall, and who knew when a nurse would arrive? Speaking of that, I thought as I shakily made my way toward my bed, when would a nurse come check on me anyway?

I checked the time on the bedside clock. It was around 1:00 in the afternoon. Was there a button I could press to call for a nurse? I was awake, and I wanted to know the date. Now that I thought about it, what was the date?

I continued to ponder my predicament, absentmindedly tracing the features of this body with the arm that wasn't wrapped in bandages.

As I was beginning to wrap my mind around my situation, the door opened, and an unsuspecting nurse, who was pushing a tray of medicine, various tools, and bandages, and humming to herself as she did so, looked up in shock as she took me in.

We stared at each other in silence until she realized what she was doing, then rushed over to my side. She began speaking in rapid Japanese, saying what seemed like questions, judging by the upward kilt at the end of her sentences.

She continued on, and I slowly realized with a shock that I understood what she was saying.

"…you feel? How are…wounds? You have pain?"

I shook my head frantically, trying to get her to slow down, or stop completely.

She quickly realized I wasn't going to respond, so paused, staring at me expectantly with doe-like brown eyes. She had to be young. Maybe even fairly inexperienced. I tried to form words. "I…pain. Here," I said, searching my mind, this body's memories, for the words. I pointed toward my ribs. "Here, here, here….and here," I finished, pointing at my bandaged arm, head, shoulder, and foot.

"Ah," she said. "Let me check your wounds." I nodded, moving the covers off me once again. She carefully unwrapped the bandage around my arm, taking a fresh roll of bandages from the cart. The skin underneath was torn and messy, scabbing in most places, leaking slowly from others. I looked at the nurse and asked in unsure Japanese, "What happened?"

Something flickered in her eyes, but disappeared before I could understand it. "You were attacked. By a ghoul."

"Huh?"

A period of silence stretched out between us and I processed what she just said. "Are you sure? " I asked stupidly.

She made a weird face, nodded, and continued cleaning and redressing my wounds. There was what looked eerily like a bite mark, not terribly deep, around my ankle. Another, deeper, bite on my shoulder. A chunk of flesh had been lost and staring too long at it made me slightly uncomfortable. As she worked, she made comments about her disgust for ghouls, which actually shocked me a bit. She had the face of a kindly young woman but those comments were fairly brutal. Understandable, I guess. But ghouls? The whole situation was surreal.

Different body, ghoul attacks, what next? I read the Tokyo Ghoul manga. Both of them, although Re hadn't quite finished yet. I enjoyed them immensely. I would read each chapter as they came out, spend my time thinking about theories, historical parallels, moral questions brought up by certain characters, etcetera. But that's all. What I couldn't wrap around my mind was how what happened to me in my own…world? Is that what I should call it? I blushed. It sounded kind of pretentious. But…I had no other term for it. For now, that word will have to suffice.

"How does your head feel?" The nurse asked. By then, I had finally gotten a better grasp at the language. Although, I didn't think I could keep up normal, fast paced conversation.

"It hurts a bit. Not horrible."

A nod.

"I will call in the doctor to finish checking up with you. "

"When can I leave?" I asked. She paused to think. "Based on your injuries, I would say a few more days to another week. It's up to Dr. Yamagoto to make the final decision. Is there anything else you need me to check out?"

I shook my head. I wanted to know where my parents were. I wanted to know what happened to my actual body. Was the owner of this body in mine? Did we switch places? Did I…erase her?

A chill ran down my spine and I repressed a shiver.

The nurse spoke up. "Once Dr. Yamagoto is done checking up on you, a couple of investigator from the CCG will stop by to talk to you about the attack." She put a gentle hand on my knee. I resisted the urge to shift away. "Any detail, however irrelevant it may be, is useful in the hunt to capture that monster." Her hand tightened on my knee and I stiffened.

I gave her a short nod.

She left the room humming a cheerful, soft tune.

I felt sick.

My mind wandered. The hospital room around me disappeared. The air around me became thick with ash and the stench of burning hair. Metal creaked and oven-heat suffocated me with each shalloow breath.

A pulse of red-hot pain blared through my head and I clutched at it.

I was back at the hospital.

The doctor arrived only a few moments later. He was a quiet man, and I judged him to be in his mid to late forties. He seemed very stiff, occasionally glancing at the door.

"They're already out there, aren't they?"

He paused. A stiff nod. I wasn't sure why he was so nervous. Maybe he was a ghoul? Maybe he was skeptical of the CGG? I studied him closely, trying to see if anything in his appearance would give me any insight.

Dr. Yamagoto finished writing my responses to his questions, and said, "The investigators will be coming to interview you promptly. Lunch and medication will come at 3:00. If you feel you need anything before then, ring this button," he pointed toward a remote attached to the bed, "And a nurse will arrive with medication and food."

I paused to think. "Can I have a newspaper or something?"

He nodded and left, returning shortly with two investigators and a newspaper which he placed on the shelf beside me.

I glanced at the investigators, then at the newspaper. I flipped the papers open on my lap.

The male investigator stepped forward. "My name is Koutaro Amon. I'm a senior investigator at the CGG. This is my subordinate, Akira Mado."

I drummed three fingers on the papers resting on my knees. The words were piecing together in my mind. I glanced at an open card on the shelf.

"My name is Ruri Miyazaki. Hi."