Heartbeats Knife Novels & Stories

I smiled at her and walked inside the ward with MT following right behind me. The young boy's eyes were shut and his skin was pale and very white. "He is dead." MT concluded after a period of silence. The hurt was noticeable in her croaked voice. I didn't say anything. I turned the boy over, revealing his open back. "What are you doing?" MT asked, bemused. "Just watch." I went to a cabinet and searched for anything sharp. "What are you looking for?" MT asked. "A knife, or anything to draw out blood." She drew out a scalpel from a small shelf in the room and handed it to me. "What do you…"

A smile oozing with derision and venom. As I picked up the papers, all covered in Christopher's shoe marks, my mechanical heart was trembling faster than ever. It should not be trembling like this. My pupils were starting to dilate, and the couple that was leaving me behind became nothing but blurry circles. … A long, long time later, I wiped the blood off the corner of my mouth. As I stared at the papers that read 'artificial heart transplant,' my fingers brushed across the scar on my chest. The one that'd been there for seven years.

By the final suture, a fine sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead, glistening under the shadowless lamps. His ice-blue eyes had somehow found their way back to my face. The thin rim of crimson bordering his pupils had deepened a full shade, a controlled madness burning within those frozen depths. Last stitch. Snip. I placed the needle back on the tray and wiped the residual iodine and blood from around the wound with an alcohol swab. Kane grabbed my hand and pressed my fingers, still stained with iodine and blood, against his chest, directly over his heart. His heartbeat slammed into my palm through the wall of his chest. Ferocious. Heavy. Thud after thud, like a wild, trapped be

They held me down tightly and I felt the knife on the side on my belly. “This is where your kidney is, isn’t it?” I cried out in pain, feeling him draw the knife downwards on my skin. The cut wasn’t deep but it hurt so bad and it was enough to drawn blood. “I might not be good at where the kidney is positioned but I know where the heart is though.” With that, he moved upwards, making another slit on my chest. I was weeping, profusely. It would definitely be better if he just drove the knife deeply into me.

Today, I choose something else. I open the secure locker and take out a Heckler & Koch MP7. It’s compact, rapid-fire, and designed to punch through body armor. I load a magazine and check the action. I grab a combat knife as well. Six inches of matte black serrated steel, and sheath it on my belt. I catch my reflection in the glass of the gun cabinet. I look like a killer. I don't look like a husband. And that’s fine. Because right now, Eve doesn't need a husband. She needs a beast to stand at the gate and bare his teeth.

My heart hammered against my ribs—one hundred and two beats. "A defect," I managed. My throat felt lined with glass. Damian didn't come to comfort me. He didn't ask if I was alright. He walked to the vanity and unrolled a small, weighted leather pouch. Inside was a set of precision tools and a slim, obsidian blade no longer than my middle finger. He pulled a whetstone from the kit. The rhythmic shirr-shirr of stone on glass filled the room—a cold, predatory sound that set my teeth on edge.

I stagger, blood loss making the world spin. Kael’s voice cuts through it—harsh and broken. “DOWN!” I drop without thinking. The Heart lunges past me—straight into Kael’s blade. He drives it up under the monster’s exposed ribcage, both hands braced, the impact shuddering up his arms. The blade punches through muscle and bone—bursting out the thing’s back in a geyser of black blood. The Heart spasms. Screams. Kael rips the blade free in a savage, wrenching twist that tears half the ribcage apart.

My heart pounds, but my movements remain smooth, steady. “You missed me?” I whisper, my voice soft, teasing. “So much,” he groans, his hands tightening on my hips. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” Without another word, I pull the knife from its hiding place. Before he even realizes what’s happening, I plunge the blade into his neck, the sharp steel stabbing through flesh with a sickening ease. His eyes widen in shock, the first flickers of fear and confusion crossing his face. His hands shoot up instinctively, pressing against the gaping wound in a futile attempt to stop the blood that’s now pouring from him in a thick, dark stream.

Setting the knife down I smile for a moment before my eyebrows furrow and I look at the mans face no smile adorning his features. Picking the knife back up I grab his jaw while looking at his lips. Slowly I begin to stick the knife in the open gape in his mouth starting with the corner of the mouth on the left. Slicing through the skin it slowly gives before I curve the cut and do the same on the other side once I was done with the left one. Placing the knife back down I trace the makeshift smile with my fingertips while a smile of my own adorned my features. Reaching down I push through the rib cage and grab the heart.