The Heart: Pt 1

     The Heart made a high, happy sound as the surgeons removed it from its box. Those sounds of sentience amazed Dr Stewart, and he doubted they would cease to. Gently, he removed it from the box and assessed the patient’s brain, sizing up exactly where to place it. Then, slowly and steadily, he took the Heart and inserted it in the chosen area. He gave the signal, and the Heart was activated. Soon, they sewed the patient back up and left the patient to recover. All the while, the Heart grafted itself into the brain, and began to read the impulses and react to them.

            Soon, the patient underwent his tests.

      “Prisoner 79712” he heard from the intercom, “do you see the firearm on the table in front of you?”

          “You want me to shoot this guy too?”

       “Yes, the test procedures will be identical to the ones taken before the operation.”

            The patient shrugged and picked up the gun. If this was what it took to get out, he’d do it again. Besides, he knew that man. He was a death-row convict too. Yet, as he picked up the gun, something wouldn’t let him pull the trigger. A part of him wanted to pull the trigger, but he couldn’t do it. Emotions began to bubble up to enforce this. That man was a human being, with feelings, and thoughts and fears. He just couldn’t bring himself to fire the gun.

    “I can’t.” he said.

            “Repeat your statement.”

         “I can’t kill him.” The patient dropped the gun. “I can’t.”

       “Noted, prisoner 79712, wait here, and we’ll move on to the next test.”

     The feelings of reticence left the patient, replace be confusion. What had they done to him? He’d killed 19 women for fun, and hadn’t lost a wink of sleep over any of it. Why had it changed? He picked up the gun again, but those same feelings stopped him.

        “What’s happening?”

    He tried again, but he couldn’t do it.

             “What did you do to me?”

          “Remain calm, this is merely a result of the operation.”

                 “What did you do to me!?” he shouted.

       A guard just came in to escort the patient, and the patient turned towards him. He wanted to grab the guard. He wanted to shake him, to grasp him, to demand to know what was happening and beat the answer out of him. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t do it. He could not, in good conscience, do any of those things. He felt the fear begin to wind down as he followed the guard, and soon, he calmly and patiently awaited his next test.

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