The House of the Bleeding Beater

Jeremy climbed the stairs, dried paint crackling under his feet. Turning on the landing, he saw the bedroom door, half open. As he climbed the last four stairs, he almost convinced himself he could hear the thump of a heart. He slid threw the door, and gasped as he saw, in the sliver of light from the broken window, a beating heart on the red stained wood floor.

He wanted to touch it, everything left his mind as the house seemed to pull his shaking hand toward the heart.

Jeremey snapped to reality, quickly noticing the warmth of the heart on his hand. He tried to pull away, but his palm stuck to the now wildly thumping heart, that like his hand, stuck to the floor. Fear was thrown upon him like a wet towel as he tugged away from the floor. The heart was now throbbing in his hand, and blood squirted between his fingers.

With his body unseen, and his cries unheard by the detectives in search of the missing boy, Jeremey starved to death in the house. The invisable body still clutching the beating heart.

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