The Heart That Witnessed My Death

My sister officially recognized a bionic experiment as her brother in front of a swarm of flashing cameras, declaring she would leave her entire estate to him.

She did it for one reason: to flush me out of hiding.

She had already filed a lawsuit against me over a heart transplant, claiming Id defrauded her by swapping her ten-million-dollar mechanical heart for a defective biological one. But when the court date arrived, I was a no-show.

Desperate and furious, she tracked down my last known place of employmenta sprawling, grease-stained graveyard of a factory on the industrial outskirts of the city. She grabbed the first person she saw and demanded to know where I was.

the floor manager looked at her, his face a mask of bewilderment. "You mean Emmett? Lady, Emmett died three years ago. Sudden cardiac arrest."

He paused, a grimace flickering across his features. "It was a mess. He got pulled right into the intake of one of the heavy presses. There wasn't enough left of him to bury."

All of this happened in the seventh year since I had "exchanged" hearts with my sisters prized bionic project. For seven years, the experiments had been failing due to rejection issues. And for seven years, my sister had laid every ounce of blame at my feet, cursing me for "hiding" the fact that my own heart was diseased from the start.

Vicky froze for a split second, then waved her hand dismissively, her face twisting into a mask of impatient scorn.

"If you're going to lie to me, at least make it logical," she snapped. "I personally designed that mechanical heart. With regular maintenance and charging, its built to beat for over a hundred years. It doesn't just 'stop.'"

She let out a sharp, cold laugh, her eyes sharp with disbelief. "Emmett is such a drama queen. Faking a job in a dump like this to play the victim is one thing, but hiring an actor to tell me hes dead? Thats low, even for him."

The manager shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his grease-stained hands together. "Ma'am, Im not joking. Emmett is gone. I don't know what he was to youdid the kid owe you money or something?" He hesitated, then added in a hushed tone, "A few debt collectors came by a while back, looking to squeeze him for cash. But once they saw the police report, even they had to give it up."

Vickys brow furrowed when she heard him call me a "kid," but the second half of his sentence set her temper ablaze.

"What exactly are you implying? That he was into loan sharks?" Her face darkened instantly. "I wired him nearly a million dollars a month for living expenses. How could he possibly burn through that and end up owing collectors?!"

She spun around, shouting at the empty, echoing rafters of the factory. "Emmett! Get out here right now! Did you pick up some disgusting habit? Is that why youre hiding? A son of the Stanley family, hunted for debtsdon't you have any shame?"

When only the rhythmic clanking of machinery answered her, she lunged forward, grabbing the manager by his collar. Her eyes were feral. "Stop the act. Im his sister. Tell him to get out here this second!"

"The heart he gave Sam is failing. Its causing Sam constant pain. He needs to answer for what he did in court, right now!"

The manager gasped for air, his face turning a mottled purple. "Ma'am... please... let go... Im telling you the truth. Emmett is dead!"

Vicky shoved him away with a disgusted grunt. "Enough. Take me to where he stayed. I want to see exactly how long he thinks he can keep this charade up."

Resigned, the manager led her deeper into the bowels of the plant. They moved past deafening workstations and rows of dilapidated employee housing that looked more like shipping containers than homes. Vicky held a silk handkerchief to her nose, her eyes scanning the squalor with elitist disdain.

"Hiding in a hole like this just to avoid a deposition... youve really grown a spine since I last saw you, Emmett," she muttered under her breath.

Finally, they stopped near a literal heap of scrap metal and refuse. The manager pointed to a few dust-covered cardboard boxes tucked into a corner.

"There. Thats everything he left behind. Nobody ever came to claim it, so we just piled it here."

Inside the boxes were a few faded t-shirts, a pair of sneakers with soles peeling off like dead skin, and some rusted tin lunchboxes. Vicky looked at my meager belongings, a smirk playing on her lips.

"The commitment to the bit is impressive. You even got the props right." She kicked one of the boxes over. "Do you really take me for a fool? As a Stanley, he had insurance on every hair on his head by the time he was five. You expect me to believe hed touch this trash?"

The old clothes spilled into the dirt. A sneaker rolled into a muddy puddle. A lunchbox clattered across the concrete, its lid popping open to reveal a few crawling beetles.

Vickys jaw tightened. "Emmett, if you don't show yourself in the next ten seconds, don't bother calling me your sister ever again!"

She screamed into the void, but the only response was the indifferent roar of the machines.

Just then, a gust of wind swirled through the alleyway, carrying the faint, sweet scent of sandalwood incense. Vicky paused, her nostrils flaring. She followed the scent, her heels clicking sharply against the cracked pavement, until she reached a tiny, sagging shack behind the dormitories.

She pushed the door open. The space was barely six feet wide. There was a cot made of plywood and a scarred wooden desk.

On the desk sat a black-and-white photograph in a simple frame. In the picture, a young man was smilinga peaceful, gentle expression I hadn't worn in years.

It was my funeral portrait.

Vicky stared at the photo, her gaze turning icy. She snatched the frame and slammed it onto the floor with a violent crash.

"Are you serious, Emmett? This is pathetic. You screw up, you give Sam a defective heart, and now you stage this morbid little theater piece to guilt-trip me?" She spat the words out. "Photoshopping your own memorial photo? Do you have any idea how cursed that is?"

No one answered. The flame of the small prayer candle on the desk flickered in the draft.

Infuriated by the silence, Vicky stomped on the frame. The glass shattered into a thousand glittering diamonds, and the photo slid out. She leaned down, picked up the black-and-white image with a look of pure loathing, and tossed it into the small brass charcoal burner nearby.

The paper caught instantly. The edges curled and blackened, the fire licking across the bridge of my nose, erasing my smile.

Suddenly, there was a noise behind her. Vicky spun around, a cold, triumphant smirk forming. "So, you finally found your conscience. Step out."

The door burst open. An elderly woman, white-haired and clutching a heavy kitchen cleaver, charged in. She looked like a cornered animal.

"You heartless monster! How dare you come back here for my Emmett!"

The blade flashed. Vicky ducked, her reflexes sharp. she grabbed the old womans wrist and twisted, sending the cleaver clattering to the floor.

"Who the hell are you? Do you have any idea who I am?" Vicky barked.

I drifted in the air above them, frantic, my spirit vibrating with a useless energy. Mrs. Henderson! Please! Stop! Don't provoke her!

But they couldn't hear me. Vicky shoved the old woman away, looking down at her with chilling arrogance. "Youre the one whos been hiding him, aren't you, you old bat?"

She brushed the dust off her sleeve, her eyes dripping with contempt. "Tell him to come out and face the music. If he leaves for the courthouse now, I might consider dropping the fraud charges for this little 'death' stunt."

Mrs. Henderson stumbled, catching herself against the wall. Her eyes were bloodshot, weeping with a rage so deep it looked like grief. "How can you be this cruel? Emmett has been dead for seven years! You stole his heart, and now you want to drag his ghost into a courtroom for the sake of that... that thing you built?"

Vickys face went pale with anger. "Stop saying hes dead. None of you are allowed to say that." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss. "And lets get one thing straight. He gave that heart willingly. He donated a sub-standard organ on purpose, leaving Sam in agony for years. Hes a saboteur, and hes going to pay."

Mrs. Henderson trembled so hard her teeth chattered. She reached for the cleaver again. Vicky kicked it across the room and then, without a hint of hesitation, landed a sharp kick to the old womans ribs.

Mrs. Henderson collapsed, groaning in pain.

"Grandma! Grandma, Im coming!"

A younger woman burst through the door. Her eyes were wide and vacant, her movements uncoordinated. She threw herself over Mrs. Henderson, shielding her. Then, like a wild thing, she lunged at Vicky, sinking her teeth into Vickys forearm.

"Get away from Grandma! Leave Emmett alone! Bad person! Hurting Emmett!"

Vicky let out a cry of pain and fury. She grabbed the woman by her hair, yanking her back. The woman fought, her teeth locked tight until Vicky delivered a stinging slap across her face.

The girl fell to the floor, stunned and silent.

I screamed, diving toward them, trying to catch Vickys hand, but my fingers passed through her like smoke. Stop it! Don't hurt Lila! Please, Vicky, stop!

Vicky looked down at the girl, a cruel chuckle escaping her throat. "Oh, I see. Shes a half-wit."

She surveyed the cramped, miserable shack one last time, her eyes landing on the dazed girl. "Emmett... in a few years, youve managed to find yourself a new sister. A broken, useless one. Are you really that desperate for a family?"

When I still didn't appear, she shouted at the walls. "I know youre watching! If you care about this freak and this old hag, then youd better show yourself, or things are about to get very ugly."

Two of Vickys security guards stepped into the room. At her nod, they began to kick and punch the two women on the floor. Lila didn't say a word; she just curled her body around Mrs. Henderson, taking every blow.

Mrs. Henderson looked up, her face a mask of bloody defiance. "Youre a fool..." she wheezed, the words forced through gritted teeth. "My poor, sweet Emmett... how did he end up with a monster like you for a sister?"

Vickys face turned livid. "Hit them harder! What am I paying you for?"

The guards intensified their assault. Lila looked up from the floor, her eyes fixed on the empty air where I was floating. A strange, knowing look crossed her face.

"Don't worry, Emmett," she whispered, blood trickling from her lip. "Hes gone to the other world. Youll never find him. Not in a thousand years."

Vicky sneered. She knelt down, gripping Lilas chin in a painful hold. "Since youre so convinced hes dead, wheres the body?"

"If hes dead, show me the corpse!"

Mrs. Hendersons clouded eyes seemed to bleed with sorrow. "He was... he was caught in the machine! He was torn apart... there was nothing left to bury!"

Vicky stood up, brushing her hands together as if shed just finished a chore. "A convenient excuse. No body, no death. Youre all just very dedicated actors in his little play."

She turned her back on them, bored. Just then, her phone chimed.

A soft, melodic voice came through the speakera voice that sounded exactly like mine used to, but with an artificial sweetness that made my skin crawl.

"Vicky? Is Emmett still refusing to come home? My chest... it hurts so much today. I think the heart is stopping."

The transformation in Vicky was instant. Her face softened into a mask of frantic maternal worry. "Sam, don't be scared. Im coming back right now. Just hold on."

She hurried toward the door, pausing only to bark an order at her guards. "Watch them. Don't let them leave this property."

I followed her as she sped back to her sprawling glass-and-steel mansion.

Sam was sitting on a designer velvet sofa, looking pale and fragile. When Vicky walked in, his eyesperfectly calibrated bionic lenseswelled with tears.

"Did you find him?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Vicky shook her head, her heart breaking for the machine. Sam began to weep. The tears were chemically identical to human salt water, leaking from his mechanical ducts.

"I gave Emmett my hundred-year heart so he could live," Sam sobbed, playing the martyr. "And he gave me this... this broken thing on purpose. I don't know what I did wrong, Vicky. Why does he hate me?"

Vicky pulled him into a hug, her voice thick with guilt. "Don't worry. Ill find him, even if I have to scour the earth. Hes the one who betrayed us. Ill make him get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness."

I stood beside them, watching the display with a hollow, bitter irony.

My heart had been perfectly fine.

I remembered the day Sam said he "wanted to feel the warmth of a human pulse." Vicky hadn't asked me; she had commanded me. I was the "defective" biological brother, and Sam was the "perfected" version.

I was conscious when they took it. I watched, paralyzed by anesthesia, as my own heart was lifted from my chest and placed into the cold, titanium cavity of a machine.

I hadn't sabotaged anything.

Vickys voice snapped me back to the present. She was pacing, her frustration mounting. "He even convinced those people to lie for him. Saying the mechanical heart was 'scrapped.' I wired him a fortune every month to keep it charged, and he has the nerve to say it failed?"

Her anger flared again. "The manager said he was in debt. He probably spent all that money on that 'sister' of his. This time, Im not just suing himIm going to make sure he pays back every cent of that allowance."

Sam leaned his head on her shoulder, a flicker of something cold and calculating passing through his eyes. "You were so good to him, Vicky. How could he choose them over you?"

The phone rang again. It was the guard at the factory.

"Ma'am, the two women... they're doing something strange."

Vicky stood up abruptly. "Finally. Emmett is showing himself, isn't he?"

I followed her back to the factory.

In the distance, I saw them. Mrs. Henderson and Lila were on their knees in the dirt, performing a grueling ritual of penance. Every few steps, they bowed until their foreheads hit the stone, leaving smears of blood.

Lila held something high above her head, her expression one of pure, holy devotion. The sun caught the object, creating a blinding flash of white light.

It was my silver bracelet. The one Id worn since I was a child.

Vicky charged forward, snatching the bracelet from Lilas hands. But Lila gripped it with surprising strength. "Its Emmetts! Not for you! Youre the bad one!"

Vicky tugged, her face darkening. She stared into Lilas vacant eyes. "Emmett, I know youre lurking somewhere nearby. Are you really going to let this poor girl suffer for you?"

Vicky raised her boot and brought it down hard on Lilas leg.

A sickening crack echoed through the alley. Lila screamed, a sound of pure agony, but her fingers remained locked around the silver bracelet.

I screamed in the sky, a silent roar of fury. I threw myself at Vicky, trying to shove her, trying to break her balance, but I was nothing but a ripple in the air.

Lilas leg was twisted at a grotesque angle. She looked up at the space where I was floating, her eyes shimmering with tears, but her gaze was strangely direct. It was as if she could finally see me.

"Emmett... see? Im holding it. I didn't let her take it."

My heartthe spirit of itbroke. In a moment of absolute desperation, I did something forbidden. I ignited half of my soul, burning my spiritual essence to create a surge of energy. I focused everything on that mechanical heart miles away.

Just for one second. One pulse.

That was enough.

A moment later, Vickys lead guard checked his tablet. "Ma'am! We just picked up a ping from the mechanical hearts GPS!"

"Its beating! The signal is coming from right nearby... and its moving!"

Vicky looked at the red dot on her screen and let out a triumphant laugh. "I knew it. I knew he was faking. Lets go. Ive got you now, Emmett."

As she turned to run to her car, Lilas voice drifted after her. "Emmett... where are you going?"

Vicky paused. She looked back and saw Lila staring into the empty air, reaching out with a trembling hand as if trying to grab someones sleeve.

"Emmett! Emmett! Wait for me!"

Vickys face twisted in disgust. "Useless freak. Stop playing games."

She walked back and stomped on Lilas other leg. Another crack. Another scream.

I collapsed in the air, my vision blurring. Igniting my soul had drained me of everything. My form was fading, becoming translucent, as a strange, cold vacuum began to pull me away.

I don't know how much time passed before Vicky reached the coordinates.

She found herself in a dusty vacant lot where a group of neighborhood kids were kicking something around in the dirt.

Her breath hitched. The red dot on her screen was right on top of her. As she approached the children, the dot stopped moving.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Give me that!"

She grabbed the "ball" from the kids. A light rain began to fall, washing away the grime and mud from the object. Familiar brushed-metal housing emerged.

A cold, sickening dread washed over her.

She pressed the manual override switch on the side of the heart.

This time, there was no pulse. No whirring of gears. Only silence.