I gasped for air as the crushing pain in my chest intensified. It felt like an iron grip was squeezing my heart, threatening to stop it at any moment. I knew what was happening – another heart attack.
I had suffered from them for years, each one more terrifying than the last. But this time felt different. As I reached for my phone to call for help, I felt a strange sense of dread wash over me.
The ambulance arrived quickly and rushed me to the hospital. I was barely conscious as the doctors worked to save my life. But then, everything went black.
When I woke up, I was in a dimly lit room. There was a man standing over me, wearing a lab coat and holding a clipboard. He introduced himself as Dr. Johnson, the pathologist in charge of my case.
As he spoke, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about him. His eyes seemed to glint with a strange hunger, and his smile never quite reached his eyes.
He explained that he had discovered something unusual during my autopsy – something that could change the world of medicine forever. He spoke of experiments and breakthroughs, but all I could focus on was the way he seemed to be relishing in my suffering.
Days passed, and I grew weaker by the hour. Dr. Johnson’s visits became more frequent, his demeanor more sinister. I knew deep down that something terrible was happening to me, but I was powerless to stop it.
It wasn’t until the night of my final heart attack that I truly understood the horror of my situation. As I lay dying on the cold metal table, Dr. Johnson loomed over me with a gleeful expression.
“You see,” he said with a sickening smile, “your heart attacks were just a means to an end. I needed a subject for my experiments, and you were the perfect candidate.”
I tried to scream, to fight back, but it was too late. Dr. Johnson plunged a needle into my heart, and everything went black once more.
When I woke up, I was in a different room. The walls were lined with rows of jars filled with strange, pulsating organs. I realized with a sickening horror that they were all hearts – human hearts.
And then I saw Dr. Johnson, standing across from me with a scalpel in his hand. He grinned at me, his eyes gleaming with madness.
“Welcome to the future of medicine,” he said as he began to cut into my chest.