The Circus Without a Heartbeat

Chapter 1

   A tear runs down His face, shimmering in the moonlight, on this cold, snowy Saturday evening, as He lays a weak, shaky hand on his dead wife's stone.

'"I'll pursue your dream, my love... I promise... I'll make this work... Our circus..." He says, placing a bouquet of 6 roses, two white, one yellow, one pink, and two red, on the soft, snow covered soil. He remembers laying side by side with Her in the summer, not two years ago, looking up at the bright, cloud scattered sky, as they plan what they could do with the newly wed husband's gift. He gets up and wipes His acid-like tears that burned against His cheeks as He leaves the cemetery on His way back to a circus tent He calls home.

It's hard to see through the horror-like fog that blankets the ground along with the sparkling snow. It is at this moment, at 9:37 pm, that He hears a young woman screaming. Panicked, He looks around, soon seeing a small figure falling from the top of a building. He sprints over, in attempt to catch her, but when He gets there, He finds her body on the ground, horrifically mutilated. He looks around and sees no one, so He picks up her limp body, and quickly rushes back to the collective bunch of tents around His own.

When He gets there, He brings her inside a hospital-like tent and lays her on the table, stripping her of her clothes so He can see where all she was hurt. Her arms, legs, stomach, and chest all have deep wounds, while her legs, arms, and neck are broken, with compound fractures. He places a hand on her chest, just above her breasts, and slightly to the left, to feel for a heartbeat, to which there is none.

He grabs a scalpel and begins to cut into her where the bone is emerged, deep down through muscle and tissue, until He reaches the rest of the bone. He pushes the broken pieces together, and with the help of His right index finger, the bones fit together like puzzle pieces, and quickly fuse together.

He does this for all of the breaks and fractures until all that remained were few scars, and her dead body. He grabs her bloody clothes (a dark maroon sweater, a light tan scarf, dark blue jeans, an army green beanie, and some grey boots) and throws all but her boots (which he hand washes) inside the wash, saving her undergarments for a delicate wash; something He had learned from His wife, who was, at the time, His girlfriend of three years.

After a couple of long hours, He dresses her in the newly washed clothes, which are still a little warm, and presses His finger on her forehead, "restarting" her brain, which causes her to gasp and wake up, screaming. He holds her shoulders to calm her down.

"Where am I...?" She asks, still a little scared, staring at Him with her deep, yet shallow purple eyes.

("my name..." He chuckles. "My name is Puzzle.")

This is the line I didn't know where to put