[ WP ] Killing another human now allows you to exchange your remaining lifespan the victim 's . Young people live in fear while the elderly plan their attacks .

These days, you never know who you might find at a hospital. As I sprinted down the hallway, my eyes grazed over mothers sobbing violently outside the closed rooms of their children, the emergency room their last resort against the brutality of elderly friends, neighbors and grandparents. Sometimes I wondered just how sincere some of those cries really were. But right now, I was more concerned about what awaited me down the never-ending hallway, where a practitioner had informed me that my mother was laying. 
 
 My pulse raced and sweat beaded on my forehead. Caslow's words echoed through my mind over and over, `` she's awake right now, but even if she lasts long enough for surgery, it does n't look good.'' My mother. The last living member of my family. I wanted to kill the sonofabitch hit-and-run drunk driver who had plowed into my mother. But first, I needed to see her. One last time. 
 
 After what seemed like an eternity, I reached room 337. I nodded at the guard stationed in front of the sealed door. The guards were mandatory after the Crisis of'55, when it was discovered that you could exchange your remaining lifespan for the life of the one you murdered. Newborns were being ravaged by patients in critical care who had just enough strength left in their bodies to make the kill. Children were being kidnapped out of their beds after tonsil removals; the trained kindness of doctors and nurses was taken advantage of by the most innocent-looking of elderly murderers. The sterile atmosphere traded for what was ranked Most Bloodthirsty Places of Work of the 2060's. Trust me, except for the occasional Rogue, the guards were a big plus. 
 
 `` Name?'' 
 
 `` Peter O'Hare.'' 
 
 `` Reason for entry?'' 
 
 `` I'm the doctor overseeing her care until they're ready over at surgery.'' Family was n't allowed in the room of the sick, not even to say goodbye when they died. But my status as top primary care doctor at the hospital for the past five years easily hid my true intentions, even though I had never been assigned to this floor in my ten years here. I'm sure he was smart enough to realize that, but apparently tired enough not to care. 
 
 `` Badge.'' 
 
 I handed it to him. He nodded and unlocked the door. 
 
 I entered the dimly lit room, the beeping of several machines guiding me to the bed while my eyes adjusted. When I finally saw the figure on the bed in front of me, I had to do a double take. There was no way this battered woman could be my mother. But the crucifix around her bloody neck that I had given her for her fiftieth birthday suggested otherwise. This was her. But it seemed even worse than Caslow had said. There was no way she was awake. She was too still. Still, I had come to say goodbye, so say goodbye I would. 
 
 `` Mom...'' My voice broke as I sat down on the chair beside my dying mother. `` Mama, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I've been so busy with work. I'm sorry I have n't come see you more often. I'm so sorry I was n't a better son. I love you so much, Ma. You're my number one girl, and that'll never change.'' 
 
 Tears streamed down my face. `` Goodbye, Mom.'' With one last loving glance, I shifted to get out of my seat, when a soft movement caught my eye. My mother's hand, shaking under the thin sheet, moved slightly. She had been awake to hear me. I smiled at the thought, then reached my face down to tenderly kiss her cheek. 
 
 The hand moved a little more. `` Mom, just rest, it's...'' Suddenly, a jerk brought a prick to my neck, and I gasped as my mother's retracting hand produced a long, fat needle from between her shaking fingers. I recognized the needle. It was one that many doctors keep on hand for lethal injections for assisted suicide patients. 
 
 My body froze. I fell to the ground. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- - 
 
 I ca n't feel anything. My mind is getting hazy. I ca n't scream or blink or cry. But with every breath, I can see my mother above me, standing up a little taller, her body stabilizing a little more. 
 
 `` Goodbye, Pete.''
