Kant parked his car on a run-down street a block away from the hospital. He got out of the car, Gabriel's voice following him as he put on his gloves.
"If you had a car, why were you walking to that chicken restaurant? It's like a forty-minute walk from your home. You could've driven there."
"Force of habit," Kant murmured, keeping an eye out for his surroundings, making sure he didn't show up under any surveillance cameras. He put on the hood that was wide enough to conceal his face.
The ghost kept talking, "What habit? Complicating your life? Why did you even become a hitman in the first place? Judging by the way you killed me, you don't kill for pleasure, so what is it?"
Kant ignored the questions, approaching the hospital's personnel door in the back.
"Sure, don't answer me. I'm just a ghost, I barely exist!" Gabriel threw out a last retort before falling into a pouting silence.
Once they were at the door, Kant pulled out a slim, matte-black device no larger than a deck of cards. It was a signal scrambler with a small digital screen and a row of dimly glowing buttons.
He pressed one, and the screen displayed an oscillating code pattern, syncing with the lock's signal. Within seconds, the device jammed the electronic lock, disrupting the code and opening the door with a faint click.
Kant slipped inside, Gabriel following in closely behind with a comment. "Woah, that's convenient. But very illegal... but also kind of cool."
The back hall of the hospital was dimly lit and sterile, and currently empty. Kant moved stealthily towards the stairwell, avoiding elevators as they were likely to be monitored.
"See? You're choosing the hard way again," Gabriel pointed out.
Kant glanced at him but didn't say anything even as they entered the stairwell. He kept his movements smooth, his ears alert to the slightest sound.
Despite the caution, his steps echoed slightly through the empty halls in an eerie way.
They reached the basement level. Kant approached a heavy metal door marked "Morgue" with a cold, clinical sign. He raised the signal scrambler to the reader beside the door.
The lock clicked with a soft beep, and the door swung open, revealing the sterile, cold interior of the morgue. Both stepped inside.
Stainless steel drawers were lined by the wall. The cold air was sharp, and the only sound was the soft hum of refrigeration units. Gabriel didn't wander off, staying glued to Kant's side like gum.
"It's so creepy here. And that's coming from a ghost." Gabriel was still whispering even though the only person who could hear him was Kant.
"It's not a guest house," Kant replied, moving through the morgue without wasting time on looking around. Second thought, it was like a guest house, just for dead bodies.
His eyes scanned the stainless steel drawers. He quickly found the one labeled with Gabriel's name and number.
"This is it," Kant whispered, carefully pulling it open with both hands. And there it was—Gabriel's body, cold and lifeless, wrapped in a white sheet.
The ghost leaned over it, his expression shifting between curiosity and discomfort. "I just can't get used to seeing my body from an outer perspective. Also, it looks dead."
"Because it is dead," Kant retorted, reaching to pick it up, but the ghost stopped him.
"Wait, wait. What if I possess it so we can walk out without raising suspicion?"
Kant thought about it for a second, then glanced at him skeptically. "Can you?"
"I think I could possess my body if I got really angry. It works in the movies."
"Then do it fast." Kant took a step back, giving the ghost space.
Gabriel hopped onto the cold metal surface. He grimaced as he settled in, his ghostly form merging with the lifeless corpse beneath him.
Kant watched closely, his face tense with anticipation. If it didn't work, it would have only wasted his time, but he gave the ghost the benefit of the doubt.
Gabriel clenched his ghostly fists, trying to channel his anger. His translucent eyes burned with frustration as he muttered, "Come on, come on...!" He strained, trying to twist his soul into the body.
Nothing happened. The ghost grew more desperate, thrashing around like a fish out of water. "I just can't seem to get mad enough! This is... ugh, it's impossible!"
Kant held onto the drawer, stopping it from shaking. "Calm dow—" he shook his head, "I mean, continue."
"I can't get angry!"
"You sound pretty pissed to me."
"No, I'm scared! I don't want to get caught!"
"If anyone here's getting caught, it's me. Have you ever seen a ghost get arrested?" Kant rationalized with him, meanwhile thinking about ways to anger the ghost.
"Well, no, but..."
"The original offer for your hit was ten times cheaper," Kant bluffed, "because killing you was going to be so easy."
Kant continued, leaning in, "Was drinking your life away worth it? You were so drunk that you didn't even notice your life ending."
But instead of getting angry, Gabriel's expression turned confused. "Drunk...? But I only had one drink at the bar..."
Kant raised his eyebrows, at a loss, "One drink got you that plastered?"
"It couldn't have, unless..." Gabriel's eyes widened. "I was drugged!"
His voice filled with outrage, his gaze glaring, "Someone must've slipped something into my drink! Whoever ordered my death made sure I'd die for sure!"
As if triggered by Gabriel's surge of anger, the body on the metal slab shuddered. His ghostly form was yanked inside.
The blue eyes flew open, revealing a disoriented but furious gaze. Gabriel grunted before groggily sitting up. The white sheet slipped off, revealing his pale skin.
Gabriel looked down at himself, then scrambled to cover his chest with the white sheet, but his movements were clumsy and awkward. "This is weird... I'm inside the body, but I don't feel alive. It feels wrong!"
"Keep it down," Kant muttered, glancing around for something for Gabriel to wear. He spotted a utility closet in the corner and quickly grabbed a pair of large, loose-fitting hospital gowns.
"Put these on," he handed them over.
Gabriel took the gowns with an exaggerated, slow nod, as if he couldn't control the body very well. "Thanks."
Kant grimaced, watching him struggle to unfold the gowns. After fumbling for a bit, Gabriel looked up with an annoyed frown.
"A little help here?"
"Yeah," Kant stepped in, guiding the zombie-like corpse's arms through the sleeves. "Can you walk?" he asked, helping Gabriel stand up before draping the second gown over his back.
The moment Kant let go, Gabriel wobbled on his feet before balancing himself somewhat. "Woah—! Well, I can stand. Kind of. But I don't think I can get very far."
"Just lean on me," Kant murmured, looping Gabriel's cold arm over his shoulders and guiding him out of the morgue.
A sly smirk stretched across the pale lips. "Aww, how tender," Gabriel hummed teasingly.
"Quiet. Other people can hear you now," Kant warned, guiding him out of the morgue.
Gabriel mumbled, dragging his feet along, "Ah, your body feels warm. I wouldn't mind being carried by you. Actually, why don't you just carry me? Walking is tiring."
"Just keep walking," Kant whispered. "I'd rather be seen kidnapping someone who looks like a woozy patient than a dead body."