My heart.

♡

As consciousness gradually returns, you find yourself enveloped in a haze of confusion and disorientation. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils, mingling with the faint hum of medical equipment that surrounds you. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room, their glare causing you to wince in discomfort. A dull ache pulses through your body, a constant reminder of the harrowing ordeal you endured. The memories flood back in fragments, the piercing screams, the searing pain of the knife, and the overwhelming fear that gripped your soul. You attempt to piece together the events that led you to this unfamiliar place, your mind struggling to reconcile the nightmare with reality.

Slowly, your surroundings come into focus, the clinical walls adorned with monitors and IV drips, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor echoing in the silence. A wave of relief washes over you as you realize you are no longer in the clutches of your assailant, the hospital providing a sanctuary from the horrors that once plagued you.

A soft voice breaks through the stillness, a nurse offering words of reassurance and comfort as she tends to your confusion. "Oh! You're finally awake. For a minute there, I was thinking you might have kicked the bucket. Your husband brought you in," the nurse informs you in a soft British accent, her tone gentle and reassuring. 

Gentle hands administer pain medication, soothing the throbbing ache that resonates throughout your body from las night's event. Despite the physical pain, a sense of gratitude washes over you, grateful for the chance to reclaim your life in the wake of unimaginable terror. As you lie there, surrounded by the sterile confines of the hospital room, you know that the road to recovery will be long and arduous. Yet, in this moment, you find solace in the knowledge that you have survived, a testament to your resilience in the face of unspeakable darkness.

"What happened?" You inquire the nurse, a tremor of fear threading through your voice, your body immobilized save for your arms. How many times did he plunge the knife into you? The unsettling thought lingers as a gust of wind sweeps through the door, causing the nurse's lips to part in astonishment, her hand poised mid-air, but she halts.

"My dear!" His voice suddenly resonates through the room as he gazes at you, a wide smile adorning his face as one of his hands reaches out to caress your cheek. His smile remains, soft and innocent, revealing his teeth in perfect alignment.

"This fellow... He..." He starts, poised to utter a lie before a sharp slap lands across his face, causing him to recoil his hand. Your hand. You've struck him. He presumed you to be naive, stabbed by him so many times that you'd accept his deceit, unable to recall the face that inflicted such agony after two years of affection.

The nurse, caught between shock and surprise, glances between you and him. "...Would you prefer some privacy?" She hesitantly inquires, edging towards the door and eventually exiting the room, leaving you two alone in the hospital chamber.

"Please," you request, but by the time the words leave your lips, the nurse has already departed, leaving you face-to-face with him. "You despicable creature," you hiss quietly, seizing both of his hands and drawing him closer to you. Your gaze flits to the camera in the corner before you whisper sharply, "Do you take me for a fool? Do you honestly believe I won't divorce you after this?"

"Oh, my heart and soul, my precious, you can't. I'm privy to your little secret as well," he murmurs back, a peculiar excitement tainting his words. The entire situation feels unsettling, verging on the surreal. It's the stuff of a chilling horror flick, you muse inwardly, before shaking off the disturbing notion and refocusing on him. 

"What on earth do you want from me? After attempting to stab me, why are you even here?" Your voice remains hushed, laden with weariness, as you release a heavy sigh. His lips suddenly crash down onto yours, leaving behind the bitter taste of wine on his tongue. It's reminiscent of the kisses he used to lavish upon you, accompanied by declarations of your beauty. Despite everything, you find yourself reciprocating the kiss, his hands enclosing yours tightly. To any observer viewing the scene through the cameras, it would appear as a tender, romantic moment, oblivious to the underlying tension and turmoil.

"You taste as exquisite as ever," he compliments, his fingers delicately tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, inviting a glare in response. Your eyes follow the path of his cedar-brown fingers as they gracefully move up to adjust his glasses, resting on the bridge. He tilts his head slightly to the right, strategically obstructing the view from the cameras, his next words intended for your ears only.

"Are you okay, my love? How did this happen to you?" he inquires, feigning concern with a tone and expression that deceive. His voice, though subdued, is clear enough for the cameras to pick up, maintaining the appearance of genuine worry.

"I-I'm okay. I'm just really scared. I'll explain once I'm out," you respond, choosing to align yourself with his orchestrated lie, a decision prompted by the recent conversation he had with you. He knows something about your actions, and for now, it seems prudent to play along.

"Shut your goddamn mouth. I asked, what the hell do you want from me? You know what I've done, why the hell are you still here?" you whisper sharply, reiterating your unanswered question. Frustration simmers within you as he evades providing any meaningful answers.

"Well, you're going to help me," he announces in another whisper, pulling your hands closer to his chest. "You're going to become my brand new partner in crime, dearest. I've been looking for new branding anyway, and this old.. 'Kamera Killer' name of mine is getting boring. And what better way to re-start my kills by having a new partner. We could dismember the bodies together, my sweet. Just like our vows, till death do us part, we can part other bodies apart and cause them death instead."

His grin widens, stretching across his face like a sinister mask. "You should really get some rest before visiting hours are over. Wouldn't want the nurses to think you've taken a turn for the worse," he says, his voice laced with a chilling edge of menace. His grip tightens around your hands, sending a jolt of pain shooting up your arms. It's as if he's trying to crush your fingers, to tear them from their sockets with the force of his grip.

His gaze drifts lazily to the heart monitor, the rhythmic beeping filling the room with an ominous echo. "Or worse," he adds, his words dripping with malice.

"Take care, my wife," he intones, releasing your hands at last, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief. You watch him retreat towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the sterile silence of the hospital room. "I do hope you'll recover soon," he calls over his shoulder, his voice fading into the distance as he disappears from view.

As he leaves, you can't shake off the eerie feeling that lingers in the air. Exhaustion settles in, the weight of the day's events pulling you into a deep slumber. The remainder of the day unfolds in a dull sequence of routine check-ups by the nurses. 

The British nurse you encountered earlier fails to make a reappearance, and the absence leaves a subtle sense of disappointment.

The hospital room becomes a monotonous backdrop, punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Buggy nurses flit in and out, checking vitals and adjusting the machines with a mechanical precision that borders on disinterest. The day drags on in a slow procession of tedious moments.

As the hours pass, you find yourself yearning for the comforting presence of the nurse with the British accent. Her absence feels like a void, leaving you with an odd mixture of loneliness and relief. The thought that your husband may have scared her off gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, casting a shadow over the sterile hospital environment. In the midst of this mundane routine, you slip into a deeper slumber, seeking solace in the realms of dreams where the echoes of reality can be momentarily muted.