Affairs of the heart

 

As I was kneeling on a pool of my blood wondering who the fuck I had become, I remembered her words. Words I dismissed as fast as I always dismissed politicians' promises and faster than I ignored my mum's threats.

“You underestimate me at your peril.” Grace said, “The Rubicon has already been crossed. You are wrong when you say I do not know you, Martin. I know you are no swimmer, and you have no idea about the river you have just decided to swim in. It is dark and full of terrors. You may have a small army, but I am the state, I am the house, I am the establishment and you are ill-equipped physically, emotionally, and intellectually for the fight you have chosen to be in. If anything happens to my daughter, I will come for you, I will find you and I will kill you”

She left before I could say anything. Usually, I am the type of man who has an air of danger about me, an aura that commands respect and instills fear in those who dare to cross me. Yet there she was, threatening me to my face. A face that naturally conveys both intimidation and charm. I must admit, that shook me for a minute. But I brushed off the feeling of doom. It was nothing personal business, besides, ain’t all fair in love and war?

Including dying while watching my heart beating from outside my body.

Yup! That’s me! You are probably wondering how I ended up in this situation!

It all started on a chilly Friday morning. I had just received my award for exemplary service in the military. I was on my way to get the golden handshake. With that, I would be able to choose any department, any mission, and any position in the army and I would be positioned there and trained; no questions asked, no explanations needed.

That’s when he appeared.

“Captain, It’s time.” He said

“How is my father Alex?”I asked

“He needs you?”

“How bad?”

“Yesterday bad. I Have already cleared with your superiors, you are good to go.”

That was the beginning of my end. The alpha of my fall from grace. The ride home was quiet but my mind was loud and noisy. Questions of life and death, sickness and health, the legal and the illegal.

“Tell me Alex, what happened.”

“His life caught up with him.”

“What do you mean? Is he dead?”

“Not yet! But he will be soon enough. If you don’t do something.”

“Alex! Stop it with the riddles. Tell me what is going on?”

“It is not in my place sir.”He said

“Alex! This is an order; not a request”

“We are home, sir. Your mother is better equipped to explain.”

I rushed to the house. Thinking my father was on his deathbed. Certain if I didn’t save him, it would be the last time I saw him. I had so much unfinished business with him. So many questions, so many puzzles, and so many moments to share in the future. He wasn’t in his bedroom and he wasn’t in his study. My mum was.

“Hello mami, where is Dad?”

“She got him! She did!”Said my mum before breaking down in tears. I held her tightly; held her not only because she needed it, but because I needed it too. We had always feared this day would come, but none of us was wise enough to prepare for it. We thought it was all behind us, how foolish of us!

“I thought she was dead.”

“So did I. But she took him. Right from his hospital suite.”

“Why now?”

“Because it is exactly twenty years. She said she will collect in twenty years.”

“She should have come for me! Not him!”

I remembered how she came into our lives. I remember it vividly. Twenty years ago, I was just a fragile six-year-old, battling a heart condition and on the verge of losing that battle. The doctors had exhausted every avenue, trying desperately to find a suitable donor for me. But as days turned into weeks, hope began to wane. There seemed to be no match in sight, no miracle waiting around the corner.

One night while I was sleeping, a woman dressed in white walked into my room. She sang to me and we talked. She asked me what I wanted the most in life. I told her I wanted to live. To grow up and join the military; to serve and protect. I wanted to be a sniper in case of wars so I could have a view of the entire field from higher ground and protect my fellows in case of attacks from the enemy. Over the next couple of weeks, we talked about my dreams, fears, passions, and wishes. On the day my doctors told me there was nothing more they could do for me, I was heartbroken. I asked my family to leave me alone for the night and come for me the next day. I wanted one night to drown in my sorrows and disappointment and maybe say goodbye to my friend.

Without fail, “my friend” showed up. I told her my predicament and her heart bled for me. She went to take a look at my medical charts and then reassuringly told me “Everything is going to be alright Marty, I will make sure.” I did not understand what that meant but I loved the reassurance it came with. She sang me to sleep as usual and went her way.

At around 4 am that night; doctors, nurses, and policemen blasted into my room. They were asking me all sorts of questions that I was too weak to comprehend. While they were still in my room, a call came through and the caller asked to speak to my cardiac surgeon. They spoke for two minutes and she seemed shaken after the call. They conferred outside with the nurses and police and soon enough, I was being prepared for surgery. I was so happy I had found a second chance at life. I thanked the Gods and angels for this miracle. But what I didn't know then, what I couldn't have possibly comprehended at that tender age, was the source of that heart. It wasn't until much later,  that the horror of it all sank in.

The police got a call of a homicide near the hospital. Upon arrival, they found the body still slightly warm and the heart surgically removed and kept in an organ preservation container with a note on top; “Get this to Marrty Atuor room 1306 Shaw Memorial Hospital or else...” When the detectives arrived on the scene, they took the organ preservation container and came directly to the hospital. I was their first lead in this case. They questioned my family before coming to see me. While in my room, my cardiologist got a call telling him if he didn’t start surgery on me immediately, her daughter's heart would be the next organ being donated to me. In a panic, she took me to surgery and I got the transplant.

When I woke up, the detectives questioned me about who might have done this and I had no clue. They showed me similar cases of homicides with surgically removed body parts but nothing jotted my memory. One detective showed me the photo of the crime scene and then it all clicked. I saw my medical chart there. The same chart my friend held the last day I saw her. I told the detective that I recognized the chart and my friend was the last person I saw holding it before my surgery. The detective got excited and asked me to give him all the details to the best of my ability. He said the description fitted a serial killer he was tracking. The serial killer, the very same monster who had mercilessly taken lives without remorse, had chosen to bestow upon me the gift of life. She had walked these same halls, stood beside my bed, her hands stained with the blood of her victims, and apparently now, the light of my life. It was a lot to take in.

 

 Later that night, I felt a presence in my room. When I woke up, I found no one. I went back to bed albeit terrified. A loud scream from my mum woke me up the next morning. There was a message on my wall, written in blood.

“Oh Martty, I thought we were friends! You told on me! You betrayed me. You wanted to live at least twenty more years right? I will come to find you in twenty years! AND YOU WILL PAY!”

Next to my headboard, there was a rabbit’s heart. It took all my energy and many stitches not to have a heart attack. However, I puked all over the place. The detectives came around and my house was a crime scene. For the next 5 years, I used to get a bloody reminder on my wall with a countdown and an animal heart. Then it all stopped. I heard nothing from her until now! Twenty years later.

“What does she want me?”

“She wants you to save your dad.”

“How can I do that when I don’t know where he is?”

As if she was in the room, I got a text message with a video. In the video, my dad was tied to a casket with a small oxygen tank on his side. The video was being shot live. My dad was hitting the side of the casket. SHE HAD BURIED HIM ALIVE! That psychopath! The video said I had six hours to find him. I gathered all my friends from the army and called in all the favors I was owed in all law enforcement. An operations base was set up in my house. Everyone was doing something; from checking CCTV footage to scanning through old case files to checking for prints all over my dad's hospital suite. It wasn’t until four hours later that we found a credible lead. A partial print left in my room twenty years ago matched a print found in my dad's suite. It belonged to Grace Marz. We cross-checked all her addresses and in five hours, we were blasting through her doors. A booby trap had been set on the door and two of our men were shot with the arrows in them before we managed to cut it loose. We found my dad buried in the basement. The paramedics took him to hospital and we stayed around to search for her even though the house looked abandoned.

As we were searching the grounds, we reached a barn that looked like the base of her operations. There was a heated crossfire. But even in the chaos and confusion, I managed to spot her. The woman who changed my life! I had a clear shot at her, but I hesitated. Why did I hesitate? I can’t tell if it’s because I was grateful to her or because a part of me wanted her to give her a second chance like she gave me but all I know now is that I regret my hesitation. At that moment, she slipped from my line of vision, and a young man she was with replaced her, since I was in his line of vision, he shot me. My bullet hit him the same time he hit me; I got him straight to the head while he got my shoulder. Before I could stand stable, someone hit me from behind with a blunt object like a hockey stick. Everything became instantly hazy.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed, hooked up to various machines. The room was dimly lit, the only source of illumination being the flickering light from the heart rate monitor. My eyes fluttered open as I heard a faint whisper. The whisper grew louder, forming into indistinct chatter. I squinted, trying to make out the source of the sound. The whispers became louder and my heart rate quickened as fear gripped me.

“Who's there? What do you want?”I asked But there was no response, only the pulsating rhythm of the heart monitor filling the room. My breaths came in shallow gasps as I struggled against the confines of my bed.

I saw a nurse come towards me. She talked to me gently, “It’s going to be okay Marty, I promise you.” She said while injecting something into my IV tube.

Those words seemed familiar! Like I had heard them before, like I knew the person who said them. At that moment it hit me! It was her.

“You! What are you doing here? What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing”

“I swear if you did something. I will find you and you will pay for this. You don’t know who I am. “I said and she laughed naughtily before wearing a serious face.

“You underestimate me at your peril.” Grace said, “The Rubicon has already been crossed. It was crossed when you took it upon yourself to touch my family! You are wrong when you say I do not know you, Martin. I know you are no swimmer, and you have no idea about the river you have just decided to swim in. It is dark and full of terrors. You may have a small army, but I am the state, I am the house, I am the establishment and you are ill-equipped physically, emotionally, and intellectually for the fight you have chosen to be in. If anything happens to my daughter, I will come for you, I will find you and I will kill you.”

I tried to talk but I was feeling sleepy and before I could struggle through the feeling, I saw her walking out of the door. When I regained consciousness I called for the detectives and told them everything. They got a pair of policemen to guard my door and secured the whole floor all entrances and exits. They told me my father had made a full recovery and that the boy I had shot was her son and the daughter was the one who had hit me. She had gotten shot almost immediately and was brought to the hospital in critical condition.

I slept as soon as the police were positioned at the door; whatever she had given me had not worn off. A few hours later, I woke up, feeling super cold. And there she was. Standing majestic. unlike the vibrant optimistic woman from my childhood, there was a sad old woman. Her warm eyes were now filled with fury.

“Is this how you repay me, Marty? I save your life and you repay me by taking the lives of the two people who mean the most to me? Two!Two Marty!! Why?”

“What did you do to my friends?”

“Nothing compared to what you did to my children.”

“I did not do anything to your children!”

“why are you lying, Marty? I saw you kill one and thanks to you, the other one just died.”

“I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Oh well, you are going to be sorry boy!” She said while removing the bandage from my wound.

“Wait wait! Why save me and then Kill me ?”

“I saved you because you reminded me of my sister. She needed a heart, but no one would donate to her. They put her bottom of the list to receive a heart because they thought it would be a waste to give a kid with leukemia a heart. She had dreams, hopes, and aspirations. It was taken away from her.”

“You took that away from the person whose heart you gave me .”

“He was a pedophile. He had it coming. My kids on the other hand did not have it coming! They were innocent! They were just protecting their mother. They did not know anything !”

“I am so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix a broken heart, Marty! It really doesn’t. You will probably understand if you have a broken heart too. I hope you still have anesthesia in your system.” She said before cutting through my healed stitches with a surgical knife. I had been struggling to free my hands the entire time and I was almost there. If only I could keep her talking.

“How come I don’t know your name ?”

“what is in a name? A rose is still a rose in any other name.”

“Shakespeare”

“He was a man after my own heart. Just like my actions were from the heart. Actions are what matters, not the actors.”

“auuuuuuchhhhhhhh” I screamed in pain as I watched her pull my heart from my chest cavity. There was no time to untie my hands. With lightning speed, I twisted my body, using the momentum I launched at her. Despite my bound hands, I managed to wrap my legs around her neck, squeezing with all my might.

Caught off guard, she stumbled backward, her grip on the knife loosening. With a surge of adrenaline, I kicked out, knocking the weapon from her grasp. Ignoring the pain shooting through my chest, I tightened my hold, cutting off her air supply. Desperate gasps escaped her lips as she struggled against my iron grip. With each passing moment, I could feel her growing weaker. Summoning every ounce of strength, I squeezed tighter and tighter until finally, with a strangled cry, she went limp in my grasp.

 

Breathing heavily, I released my hold and slumped back against the chair. I looked at the mirror in front of Me and realized I  had just won a losing battle. I was soaked in my blood with no strength to get up and go get help. Having killed an innocent girl, caused the death of an innocent boy, and killed the woman who had saved my life. I had come a long way from a protector. Who tf had I become?

 By Khaoya Favor