Reblogging one of my - if not THE most - popular audio files from my old account. You’ll hear why ;)

Experiments

Everything is dark. A cold air fills the room. I am firmly held by tie on a metallic table. I am shivering. I cannot move nor see where I am. A strip keep my head straight and another one just under my rib cage, tighten enough for my breathing to be disturbed.

Suddenly the light turns on the room, and I see myself in a big mirror right upon me, wearing only an long johns. I admit, I am very curious of what will happen next. I hear soft step noises, but I cannot turn the head to see. A young girl bends down and look at me straight in the eyes. She is lovely, with long dark hairs and a skin of honey colour. Her black eyes are shining with anticipation. - Don’t be afraid. Afraid ? I am curious, not afraid. I do not know how I ended up here. I do not know her nor what will happen. - W…who are…you ? Where…am I ? I hardly can speak. I don’t feel weak tho. Strange.

She doesn’t answer me. She unties the strip that kept my head straight and I can now see my surroundings. The room is made with bright light green ceramic. Next to me I can see a table with several surgical tools, breathing masks, a silent ECG and some deffibrilators, internal and external. I put my head straight and I see myself in the mirror. She puts the strip back on my head. She begins to caress my ribs, push a little bit over my sternum, smiles. She enjoys putting her fingers along my rib cage. She says : - You are safe with me. Nothing bad can happen to you. I am here. She places the ECG electrodes on my chest. Soon a soft bip-bip-bip is heard. She looks at the screen and murmurs : - Such a nice rythm, slow and steady. Your heart is healthy, and strong. You have a nice 56 bpm. I try to speak, but I simply can’t. She looks at me and with her finger draws a line that goes from my aorta to my carotids, on each side of my windpipe. She presses hard on my arteries. I immediately feel dizzy, I see black and silver stars before my eyes. I breath quicker and my heart speeds up. Bip-bip-bip-bip. At the moment I fall in unconsciousness, she removes her fingers from my neck and says : - Good, your heart reacts correctly. Your heart rate was of 97 bpm. I blink a few times to bring back a normal vision, just to see her grabbing a syringe. She palpates my chest left of my sternum, between two ribs. She delicatly puts the needle against my skin, but does not pushes yet. - I will compress your little heart. It will beat, it will struggle, but at the end, it will stop, in the middle of your chest. And you can’t do anyhing. She slowly pushes the needle between my ribs. My muscles tense, but the needle finally enters a cavity. I feel exactly where the point is. I feel…a sting deep in my chest. The needle just hit a hard contractile part. I arch on my back, the pain is deep. - Shhh, you’re safe. It’s all good. Let your heart panic. Look, your heart is beating at 123 bpm. It is not enough. I want more. You want more. I breath quickly. The needle touches that hard part, not even piercing it, but the pain is intense. - Here, you feel it ? I am touching your pericardium. In a few minutes, it will be filled and will prevent your heart from beating. But first, I need to stimulate your heart, make it beat faster. She pushes the needle deeper in my thorax. My heart wildly jumps in my chest, it beats faster, it is irregular. Bip-bip…bipbipbip…bip…bip…bipbipbip. I feel my myocardium being pierced, my heart beating out of control. - Yes, keep going on. 182 bpm and I haven’t injected the stimulant yet. She pushes on the piston, emptying the syringe. My heart rushes under the effect of the cold liquid. I hyperventilate. I feel my heart shaking inside my pericardium. - This is far better, isn’t it ? 236 bpm. Your heart beats four times in one second. I feel dizzy. My breathing is irregular. I feel the needle being removed from my heart, but not from my pericardium. - Now, I will compress your heart. Softly compressing it until you pass out. And bring you back, to compress it again. She lets the needle in my chest and remove the empty cylinder of the syringe. She then takes a bag filled with a clear liquid in it and plugs it to the needle still in my chest. She lifts the bag high and press it. I feel the cold liquid pouring around my heart, squizzing my heart. In the mirror, my eyes widen under the surprise. I feel like a cold hand grabbing my heart. My chest is rising and falling on the rythm of the hyperventilation. Under my sternum, my heart is beating fast. - 274 bpm. It seems that your little heart won’t give up, right ? She empties the bag completly. My poor heart, already weak, cannot stand more pressure on the ventricles. I feel my heart shivering, then shaking out of control. I just have time to see her take the defibrillators before going unconscious.

I open the eyes with a jump. I am still tied on the table and can hear the reasuring noise of the electrocardiogram. I try to remember what just happened. Yes…My heart ! I look in the mirror. I can see two red wound on my chest, where the current have passed from the defibrillator to my heart. I notice with surprise that the needle plunged in my heart has been removed. - Good, you’re awake. The first test was a success. We are going to proceed with the next tests, do you agree ? - W…wait… I catch my breath, and say with a murmur : - What…happened ? I still have lots of difficulties to speak. She looks at me and lay her finger on my lips. With a caring voice, she explains : - Your little heart hasn’t tolerated the cardiac tamponad nor the stimulant. I drained your pericardium sac and defibrillated your heart. Your heart is fascinating, I really look forward to hold it in my hands, massaging it, squeezing it…but it will be for later. - And now ? She smiles at me and caresses my sternum. She takes a medical mask and lays it on my face. She connects the tube to a gas bottle. She whispers in my ear : - It will please you. I will test the resilience of your heart at being asphyxiated. You are going to breath some gases. I chose three for you. Carbon dioxyd, helium…and if your heart reacts correctly, maybe you’ll get oxygen. The ECG accelerates. I know how it will react. I tried before I arrived here. I remember. - I let you discover the first gas. I can’t wait to see your heart fibrillate ! She opens the first valve. I breath deeply, I fill my lungs with that cold gas. I suffocate at the first puff, and immediatly begin to hyperventilate. My heart hammers against my ribs. Carbon dioxyd ! My breathing is very heavy, I choke. My tachycardic heart feels like a stone in my chest. My thorax rises and falls too fast to be efficient. I see my skin turning pink under the asphyxiant effect of the gas. My muscles are convulsing. I breath in again. My heart skips a beat, then beat faster again. Bibibibibibibi. Tachycardia is regular tho. My heart feels heavy. - This is very good, breath in again. Breath. I inhale deeply the gas. The carbon dioxyd is acting on my heart now, I feel it. It stops. Beat again. Skips. I feel my heart palpitate, then a tingling in my chest. My heart fibrillate… As I was blacking out, a powerful electrical shock shakes my chest. Cool air arrives on my mask. My heart stops beating. She punches me on the sternum and I can feel my myocardium contracting once more. Irregular, but beating. I am saved. My heart fibrillated, then got defibrillated. Bipbipbipbip. - 162 bpm. This is very good, knowing it is just after a ventricular fibrillation. Breath calmly now. I inhale. I feel good. I see my chest raising and falling. She keeps caressing my sternum, my chest, my whole rib cage. I inhale again. It makes me feel all funny, my heart beats fast. And very hard. I see it moving under her palm. I inhale again. I do not understand. I inhale… I open the eyes. Bip-bip-bip. The ECG calmed down. I remember the fibrillation induced by the carbon dioxyd. The defibrillation. Then…Helium ? I felt nothing, except my hammering heart and my heavy breathing. - I love the feeling of your fibrillating myocard under my fingers. Feeling it ceasing to pump blood in your chest to keep you alive. I want to play with your heart, to squeeze, to pinch, to perce your little heart. - It was…pleasant… She smiles, draw a line at the heart location with her finger on my sternum. She kisses the place where she punctured my heart with the syringe. She whispers : - I revived you three times. Now I will use three ways of resuscitation to stop your little heart. I want to play with this nice breastbone before cracking your chest open.She places her hands on my sternum. She pushes with all her strenght on it. That took my breath away and my breastbone is pushed on eight good centimeters. My ribs crack. My surprised heart skips a beat. My sternum goes up and is pushed again on my heart. Push, relax, push, relax. - When your atrias contract to fill your ventricles, I press your heart. I don’t want that your ventricles fill. I want them as empty as possible. I want as little blood as possible in your arteries. Push, relax, push, relax. In the mirror, I see my thorax being deformated by the pressure. I feel my heart palpitate, trying to resist to that imposed rythm. My ventricles are mercylessly emptied. My heart speeds up to compensate. She knows it. She adapts her rythm to disturb my heart, as much as possible. Push, relax, push, relax. Breathing is difficult with as much pressure on my chest. I feel dizzy. My heart is unsteaddy, it palpitates.  It beats very hard. In the mirror, my whole body is shaking under the powerful contractions. I can see my apex under her palms. Push, relax, push, relax.

Finally, after nearly one hour of uninterrupted heart massage, my irregular heart is still beating. She stops compressing my chest and stares me in the eyes : - I will make that organ fibrillate. She lifts her fist and powerfully hits my sternum. I moan. She hits me again, my breathing stops. My heart stops. Beats again. She looks at the ECG, slowly lifts her fist. She hits my sternum even harder than before. I stertorously breath. My heart is only shivering now. My pupils widen, my ribs cease to move up and down. She murmurs : - I feel your heart shaking under my fingers. Your little heart is fibrilatting again. I lose consciousness. I hardly feel the current going through the chest. Her hands are back on my sternum, not trying to stop my heart this time, but trying to save me, massaging my fibrillating heart. Another shock. I think my heart restarts. I can see again. In the mirror, my skin is a little bit more red. - Good, you’re back. Time to continue. She puts a good layer of conducting gel on my thorax and sticks two defibrillator electrodes, one up of my left nipple, the second one on my left flank. - This heart of yours is resilient. Let’s see how much it can take. We begin slowly, only 150J. I hear the humming of the defibrillator. I feel the shock. I moan, my heart stops while the current is in my chest, then keep on beating. It beats fast. - 200J. I feel my heart making a lot of big jumps in my chest. Now it is irregular and tachycardic. The ECG is panicking. Bi-bibibi-bip-bip-bibi-bip. - The ECG shows us only a little 181bpm. Let’s try 300J. She watches my chest rising under the powerful electrical impulse. My heart palpitates, palpitates, palpitates. Another shock. And another. - That’s it. 500J. That exctremly powerful shock makes my back arches for at least three seconds. My heart stops, I lay on the table. As I black out, my heart beats again, a single, mighty beat, then keep on beating very fast. I can hear it in my head. Lubdublubdub…lubdublub…lubdubdubdubdub. She shocks me again. Lub…The now familiar tingling in my chest seizes my heart. I lose consciousness. When I open the eyes, she was looking at me. She says : - When the heart massage and the defibrillation do not work, we have only one last resort. Do you know what is that last resort ? I try to say no, to shake the head. I am so weak. I can feel only my heart hammering inside my chest. I see her taking two syringes on the table. She explains : - Those two products have complementary effects. I begin by injecting you a good dose of atropine. It will keep your heart at a high speed, without slowing it down. Then I will inject you a huge dose of adrenaline. Not only will your heart only speeds up, but it will be beating pretty regulary before sinking in a very pleasant ventricular fibrillation. You enjoy it, isn’t it ? I see her palpate my chest, then piercing my skin and my intercostal muscles with the first syringe. She stops her move and says : - It is only a little needle, but what would happen if I stabbed your heart like I would do with a knife ? She brutally plunges the needles, deep in my left ventricle and empty the content. The deep pain make me aches my back, and that sudden movement makes the stucked needle move in my myocard too. The pain is intense, intimate. My heart is hurt. Physically hurt. She caresses my ribcage, remove the syringe and murmurs : - Shh, I know, I know, it is painful. Everything is good. Your heart is very reactive to physic stimuli. Look in the mirror. You breath quickly. Heavily. Your little heart already accelerates. I will help it reaching its best rythm. She takes the other syringe. This time, she slowly push the needle in my chest, gently tickling my pericardium with the needle point before deciding to pierce it and empty the adrenaline in my left ventricle. - 196 bpm. My heart jumps in my chest as the stimulant makes effect. She removes the needle and murmurs : - 198, 205, 222. I hardly breath. My heart feels like it will explode. I hyperventilate. My ribs rise and lower too fast to be efficient. My whole body shivers with my heart contraction. A thin trickle of blood oozes from the puncture and run down my ribs. - 240, 254, 276. She put her hands on my mouth and pinches my nose. I choke. My chest frantically rises and lowers. I try to inhale with all my weak strenghts. She removes her hands and I heavily breath. I am still hyperventilating. My heart is beating extremely fast, I feel only my continuous thundering heartbeats. - 310 beats per minutes ! Your heart beats five times in one second ! She puts one hand on my sternum and the other at my apex. She murmurs : - Your little heart is  strong, but I think it cannot take more. I feel it. Look in the mirror. My incredibly fast yet regular heart skip a beat. She smiles. I know why she smiles. - Your little ventricles are fibrillating. Feel them quivering. I lose consciousness.

Something is wrong. It’s dark, I can’t see anything. I cannot feel my chest except a gnawing pain along my sternum. My breathing is strange, as if my ribs weren’t raising as usual. - Everything went perfectly. We can now proceed on the internal part of our tests. You’ll love it, I assure you. She whitdraws my blindfolds. I am staring in the mirror, surprised to see a medical blanket covering my thorax. She passes her hands on that blanket in the same gesture as when she was caressing my ribs and my sternum. She takes the blanket and take it away. Fascinated, I contemplate the gaping hole in my chest, my split sternum revealing my beating heart in its white pericardium. It’s so soft, so regular. I could watch it beating for hours. A metallic sound brings me back to my immediate surrounding. She shows me a little scalpel and says with a big smile : - Your sternum is cracked open, there is nothing left to protect your vulnerable ventricles. Only a little membrane, a very thin membrane. She slowly approaches the blade of my heart. In my open thorax, my heart beat under the thin pericardium. The blade poke it, I feel my heart quivering. Then the scalpel enters the pericardic sac and sink into my myocardium with an agonising slowness. I feel a deep, internal pain, my heart irregulary contracting around the invading blade. I breath heavily. She let go the scalpel plunged into my heart and I can see it dancing with every contraction. - Your little heart keeps beating. It is pretty regular. Let’s see how it can tolerate a twist move from the blade. She twists the scalpel. It’s burning, I can see my eyes widen with pain and surprise, I breath faster, my heart is panicking. She put the blade out of my heart and then lay a finger on the pericardic hole. My blood pours of the wounded ventricle at every contraction. I feel it flowing around my heart, squeezing it. My heart is more and more irregular, my ventricles are collapsing under the pressure around them. It’s beating weaker now. My vision is fading, my breathing lesser deep. In the mirror, I can see the pericardium being filled with my own blood. My heart…stops. When I open the eyes, I can see my heart. It is happily beating in my open chest, pale red and pink. Coronary arteries and veins are pulsating at the same rythm. My pericardium retained on each side by a suture, completly exposing my most vital organ. On my ventricle, I see a black suture. The hole in my heart is sealed. - I love the cardiac tamponnad. How it feels, the sight of your struggling heart, your collapsed ventricles. She puts her hand in my chest and touches my heart. Surprised, it skips a beat. She caresses my ventricles, tilts my atrias, enjoys the feeling of my heart in her hands. She then slaps my heart. I suffocate, but my heart keeps on beating. She whispers : - I wasn’t expecting it to not stop. She smiles and pinches my atrias between her thumb and index. My heart skips some beats, then pauses. It contracts hard, quiver and enters in v-tach. After a little moment of pressure on the atrias, my heart comes back to a more normal rythm. - I want to open again your suture. But I will keept that for later, don’t worry. She lets go my atrias. They struggle to find back a synchronised rythm with my ventricles. She says to me : - Your poor atrias are in difficulties. They are fibrillating. Let me shock your heart. But first, I need to stop it completly. It is easier that way. With a laboured sigh, I say : - H…how ? She lays a finger on my lips and look at my heart. She takes on object on the table and shows it to me. It is a 9V battery, the one with the metallic strips for the negative and positive poles. - I will short-circuit your myocard. She slowly moves the battery forward, closer and closer of my heart, then the contact is made. My heart beats very fast, quivering, and the contractions cease. My heart is motionless in my chest. As I lose consciousness, I feel her hand sliding around my heart and massaging it. Blood circulates at the rythm of her fingers squeezing my heart muscle. Her hand is warm and strong, pumping well my poor myocardium. She winks and smiles at me : - I decide of your heart rate. Your heart belongs to me now. And I want it in my palm. She bends on me, releases her grips on my heart and blow on my lungs. Silver stars begin to dance before my eyes and she takes again my heart in her hand to massage it. The suture on my ventricle is painful, her hand contracts and release. I feel the pressure, like an intrusion in my thorax. I am terribly vulnerable. She stops again to blow in my lungs, massage my heart with one hand and takes a defibrillator with the other. She lets my still heart in my chest, position the paddles against my heart and shock immediatly. The current shakes my whole body makes my heart violently jolting and it begins to fibrillate. She shocks it again, and flick my heart as it stopped with the current. My heart is back in a sinusal rythm. The wound on my heart is slightly bleeding now. She takes again my heart in her hand and keep massaging it. It skipps, is irregular. She says : - I am going to knead your heart, stronger and stronger, harder and harder, to make it stop. Or fibrillate. I like when your heart fibrillate. You like it too, I know. You like to feel your heart squeezed. You like my hand in your chest. She presses my heart harder, longer. My heart struggles to beat. She presses my ventricles when they are filling, sending the blood back in the upper chambers of my heart, and let go my ventricles when they contract to send the blood in my arteries. I am panting, my cracked chest raising and lowering fast. My heart is mercilessly massaged. She massage my heart for a good half hour. She then smiles at me, stop squeezing my heart and watch it try to catch a normal rythm. Bi…bipbipbip…bip-bip…bibibi-bipbip. - Tell me how it would feel if I was pressuring your whole heart with both hands, and not with only one hand ? She slides her hand under my heart muscle, put the other on it, closes her eyes to enjoy my heart beat in her palms. She slowly presses my heart, savouring each shudder, each desperate contraction. Stronger and stronger, my heart beats, but I feel the pressure on my heart muscle like a stone, crushing it. She releases the pressure, my heart jumps, beat fast, and she presses again, slowly. I gasp. The releases. My confused heart lost its regular rythm, erraticly beating. - I will stop those cardiac contractions. Do you know the expression “to have a heavy heart” ? Know it in its first meaning ! She weight on my heart with all her strenght, slowly as before, but keeping my heart tighter and stronger in her grip. I feel my ventricles rubbing against her fingers, my atrias pressed under her palms. I moan, my breathing is halting. My heart is more than irregular. No beat is like the previous one. It skipps, stops, jolts in her deathly grip. - Your heart is so slow now, so…erratic. What if I press even harder now ? She squeezes my heart again, stronger than before. My breathing stops. My crushed heart cannot pump blood, my sight is fading. She holds my heart tighted in her hands for a few seconds again, and she releases her grip. My heart jumps wildly in my chest, my atrias are fibrillating, my ventricles enter in a very fast tachycardic cycle. She look at my heart. And suddenly plunges her hands again in the hole in my chest to catch my heart and squeeze it again. This time, she holds her grip for a whole minute. I might have passed out. I feel her letting my heart free to beat once more. In the mirror, the suture is nearly open. My heart is bleeding. - It’s fascinating. Your heart reacts far better than expected. You were supposed to fibrillate. Or to be asystolic. Time to bring your little heart in a more sinusal rythm, don’t you agree ? I am incapable of speaking. My breathing is heaving, shaky, like my heart. Ready to stop at any moment. But I see her approaching with the 9V battery. Contact is made. My heart jumps out of surprise, then completly stops. I lose consciousness, vaguely feeling her hand massaging my heart to keep me alive for the following tests. She whitedraws her hand to blow in my lungs, and I black out.

I can barely open the eyes this time. I hear the sweet sound of the ECG beeping, slow and steady. It is strange to hear it this way, it was so chaotic for the last hours. I feel her hand caresses my ribs. She whisper : - Your heart… After all I did to it, it’s still beating in its sinusal rythm, to its 55 bpm. But I am not done yet, and your little heart either. She lays her hand on my beating heart, visibly enjoying its powerful contractions. She caresses my aorta, setting off a new feeling in my chest. Like touching a thick plastic tube. A tube that is a part of me. - Your heart is murmuring. Soon, it will suffocate. But first, I have to suture that nice laceration on your ventricle. My heart was indeed bleeding, a little bit of blood spurting out with each contraction. She takes a thin needle and a suture thread and begins to sew the little blade shaped hole of my ventricle. The needle enters my myocardium, gets out of it, dragging the thread in the tiny tiny needle hole, closing the laceration at each pass. My heart skips, I breath faster under those repetitive stings. Finally, my heart stops bleeding. My heart is beating faster now, 76 bpm I think. - Do you know what will follow ? I am going to asphyxiate your heart. This will be very easy to do. She puts her hand down in my open chest, tilting my heart. She says again : - Actually, I will strangle your heart. I know you love strangulation. She focus on the biggest coronary artery, follow it with a finger until she finds a good spot. Delicatly, very tenderly, she pushes on it. At first I feel nothing. Is she pushing hard enough on it ?Then I feel my heart jumping so violently in my chest that I feel her finger going deep in my myocardium. My heart is beating very irregulary now, skipping every beat, speeding up, becoming more and more tachycardic. My breath is shaky, hyperventilating. - Do you think your heart will stop or will fibrillate ? I hope it fibrillates, you’re already at 214 beat per minutes. I see in the mirror my ventricles frantically contracting, trying to compensate the lack of oxygen in my heart with more speed. The inside of my chest is making me suffer. My heart is burning with asphyxia fire. I can see my heart becoming pale, my asphyxiated myocardium becoming tarnished. My ventricles grow again. A violent skip makes me feel my heart rubbing against the under part of the pericardium, and my heart violently fibrillate, not able to bear anymore strangulation. She whitedraws her finger. The oxygenated blood rushing through my asphysiated myocardium only makes it completly stops. My heart is lifeless again in my open chest. I only feel a needle piercing my ventricle before blacking out. I blink the eyes, and take a deep breath. She is here, looking at me. She says : - What an effect for having pushed on a so little artery ! Your heart enlarged, I like it. She caresses my aorta, go down one of my coronary artery but does not push on it yet. - You surely know what a commotio cordis is, right ? This is a violent hit on the sternum at a specific moment of the cardiac revolution that leads to a ventricular fibrillation. But your beautiful sternum is cracked open and split in two. I can only strike your heart. She lay down her hand down in my open chest, take my heart from rear so my heart is now beating on her palm, and lifts it at the heights of the rib spreader. I feel a dull ach inside my chest, a tension on my arteries and veins I’ve never experienced yet. She then strikes my heart The shock makes my whole body to shake, I ache my back, creating even more tension on my blood vessels. She hits again, I hear a wet crushing sound, I suffocate. She hits again, my breathing stops. Again, my heart stops. She strikes with her palm, my heart stops. Again. It beats, weakly. Again. She frowns and says : - Why isn’t it fibrillating yet ? She takes a syringe and injects something in my heart. The tightening of the puncture makes my heart skips even more after that mercyless beating, and it speeds up a lot under the effect of the product she just injected me. I hyperventilate again, my skin become light red. She hit my heart again, but it doesn’t even skip this time. She lifts her hand again and I managed to speak : - W…wait…T…T wave… She focuses on the ECG. She hits with all her strenght on my bruised heart. I feel the familiar twitching on the fibrillation against her hand, the massaging onf her hands around my frenzy quivering heart muscle. I lose consciousness. When I open the eyes again, I see in the mirror my heart is paler, bigger. It beats more weakly, or maybe is it just an impression. She says to me : - I haven’t tried if your heart could bear a very high blood pressure. But don’t worry, I know exactly how to raise your pressure at a cardiac level. Your laceration will open by itself. She grabbs something on the table and show it to me. It looks like a pair of pliers. - I nearly forgot I had those ! These are not normal pair of pliers. These are clamps. I am going to clamp your aorta ! My heart speeds up in excitation of what will happen. She takes my heart in her heand and pulls it a little out of the opened pericardium in order to have a good view on my aorta. It’s here, pulsating, surging with each contractions of my ventricles. Her hand is soft on my heart, but I feel a painful tension where the aorta spouts out of my heart. Still holding my heart with one hand, she apporaches the clamp with the other hand, open it and says : - How will ends this test ? Will your heart completly stop beating ? Will it fibrillate ? Or maybe your little heart will burst. Now, I clamp it. I clamp your aorta. Carefully, she clamps the most imporant blood vessel of my body. My heart immediately skips a beat, I feel my blood pushing against the artery wall, my ventricles pushing the blood in the aorta, struggling to eject all the blood that accumulates in my heart chambers. I see silver stars, my vision begins already to fade. I can see my heart inflating with all the blood that doens’t get out in the aorta. The laceration of my ventricle brutally opens and blood spurts out like a fountain. The ECG shows a flatline. She removes the clamp. I barely feels her hand massaging my grievly wounded heart, and I think I see a needle, ready to suture once again the opening in my heart muscle. I totally lose consciousness. When I come back from the sweet darkness of unconsciousness, a wide tear is visible on my myocardium. A little of blood oozes from the wound. A bleached line around my aorta shows where the clamp was. She says : - Your little heart nearly bursted. I couldn’t let the experiment ends like this. I have one last test to run with you. The wide wound on my heart hurts, every painful contraction making it even worst. I see hers hands wrapping around my heart, kneading  a little bit, pushing on it to feel the powerful contractions of my heart. Her hand is still as strong as before. She smiles to me, with a kind and benevolent smile, yet very sad at the same time. - It can end in only one way. You know it, don’t you ? Tenderly, she tightens her hands around my skippy heart. Slowly, she pulls it out of my chest, still attached. - I am going to rip your heart out of your chest. Slowly. I want you to enjoy your last heart beats. She pulls my heart out. My terrified, tachycardic heart beats very irregulary in her hand. She massages my heart at the same time, massagine my ventricles with her long thin fingers, pushing at the same time against my coronary arteries. She pulls it out again, My blood vessels are tensed, ready to be broken. She stops massaging my heart and at the same way allow the blood to circulate again in my coronary arteries. Still holding my heart with one hand, she pokes the wide suture with her other hand. - I told you I wanted to open your heart. She slowly pushes her finger inside my heart, breaking the suture, penetrating the inner part of my beating heart. She savagly scratches my frail endocardium. It’s more than what my heart can bear, it begins to fibrillate once more: - Now I rip your heart. She brutally pull my heart out of my thoracic cavity. My pupils widen. I use my last seconds of counsciousness to survey my now still ribs, my chest cracked open and the gaping wound on my thorax. My eyes roll back, I exhale. I feel aspirated in darkness, surrounded by water sound, ringing ears. Then nothing more. The end

by Dmitry Vishnevsky