It was so disgusting. The dark sticky puss oozed onto my fingers sticking to them like tar. It was warm to the touch, but it felt dead, as if it had just recently stopped beating. As I looked down at its lifeless form in my hands I was reminded of a different time. A time when it was alive, a time when it was clean, a time when it was the way it was created – beautiful.

Yet here it was. Dirty, disgusting, and dead. I ran my fingers over its outer skin. It was slippery to the touch, completely coated in a black substance that I didn’t recognize. I tried wiping it off, but the more I wiped the more it smeared. It was all black anyways, no matter how hard I scrubbed it I couldn’t get it’s color back.

It was dead.

I looked down  as its black puss dripped from my hands onto the hardwood floor. It was pooling at my feet, but there was a trail leading down the hallway. I hesitated at first, then decided I would see where it came from. I traced the drops back through the house. The first door was solid oak, painted blue on the outside. As I turned the handle and peaked inside I saw what was obviously the room of a small child. Lego’s scattered the floor, action figures lay tossed here and there, and a figure of Superman lay crumbled on the comforter of the bed.

I quietly turned and shut the door. More drops led down the hallway, so I decided I’d see where else it had been. This door was a little more worse for wear. I reached for the doorknob and turned it but my hand slipped. It was still covered in black puss. At this point it was oozing everywhere. I used my shirt to slowly turn the knob and I stepped inside .

In one corner sat a desk with a laptop, in another was a twin bed with black bedding. A few pictures lined the walls, a game system lay plugged into a small TV set, and a life size poster of Superman was crookedly glued to the wall. I didn’t see much at first, but the closer I looked the more I saw it – a black substance was spattered over the floor, the desk, the bed, and the walls.

As I stood in the room my hands quivered. It was a small shake, I could tell it was struggling to beat once more, and as it did I saw lines appear. One connected to the bed, another to a picture on the wall, and another to the computer. I traced them with my eyes, trying to find their meaning or reason of origin.

The picture on the wall was a boy and a girl. They looked about 17 or 18, but I couldn’t really tell. they seemed happy, but there was a look of distress in their eyes. I walked slowly to the desk and sat down. It was a soft roll chair, the kind you would use to push your friends around. As I reached for the mouse I paused, not wanting to get the black substance on the computer, however I quickly realized that it already covered most of the desk.

“What did this mean?” I asked myself out loud.

The computer’s background was of the same girl on the wall. She sat in a field of flowers smiling, but still… Something was off.

I didn’t understand what this meant so I stood up and slowly walked to the door, taking in one last look at the items in the room. I first noticed it when I reached for the door to pull it shut; things in the room came to life. They were like holograms, just visions of things that had once been there.

I could see a teenage boy sitting at the computer. He nervously glanced at the door, staring right through me, then glanced back at the computer. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the key board, but his conscious didn’t hold out long and he started typing. As his eyes feasted on the images displayed before him a small dark stain appear on his shirt. He reached down and felt his chest, bringing his fingers up to his face – the same black substance clung to his fingers.

As his image began to fade another one appeared. This time it was two people, the same boy, and the girl from the picture on the wall. They were laughing and talking, she leaned up and kissed him as he pulled her onto the bed. It was obvious they were in love. As they faded from view I still didn’t understand what all of this meant.

It struggled again in my hands. It was trying to beat, maybe something I saw had sparked something inside of it. But once again there it was, lifeless and empty, there was no beat, just a black sticky substance oozing from its outer lining…

I still didn’t understand what all of this meant. The holograms were almost haunting as they continued to play through. Each one told a different story.

The boy sat on the edge of his bed, tears rolling down his cheeks. He kept glancing at his phone. I don’t know what he was looking for, but the look on his face revealed that he hadn’t found it. I started to walkout when I realized he still had the stain on his shirt, except this time it was bigger. This time it covered most of his chest.

I turned and closed the door. There was another trail of black substance that led into the kitchen. I could hear voices, one was soft and quiet, the other pleading and desperate.

“What are you talking about?” The quiet one said.

“I can’t do this! Please, help.” The other voice said pleadingly.

As I rounded the corner I saw the same teenage boy, his face was twisted in desperation and pain. Across the kitchen stood an older woman, presumably his mother and the origin of the soft, quiet voice.

I made my way closer to them, confused as to what they were discussing. I could see tears forming in the eyes of the boy. He struggled to speak.

“I’m only a teenager.” He said, as the tears overflowed and ran down his face.

The woman didn’t say anything. Confusion crossed his face, and suddenly before I could react he reached across the counter and grabbed a knife. I yelled in surprise as he drove the knife into my hands, but I felt no pain. It didn’t stab me… Just the black and lifeless object in my hands.

Black puss poured from where the knife had sunk in. I realized he still couldn’t see me as he slowly began moving the knife back and forth, sawing through the inside of the slippery object.

I starred down in horror as he continued to cut it apart, but suddenly they were gone. There was no knife, but the lifeless heart lay cut in two. I ran my fingers through the inside, feeling it’s muscly walls. It was just as it appeared, black.

Surely it hadn’t always been like this?