The anesthesia was starting to wear off. I squinted groggily at the harsh light suspended above me. The world swam out of focus, and I closed my eyes against the nausea. I was lying on a hard surface; the operating table. I opened my eyes again. To my left was a stainless steel tray table loaded with surgical tools, all of which looked very sharp and very recently used.
"I hope you don't mind, my dear," she said. Her white tunic was stained red, and she was holding a jar in one hand. Her eyes gleamed. "After all, you said that you would give me your heart." She held up the jar and I could see something suspended in murky brown liquid.
I looked down at the bloody hole in my chest and could make out the movement of brass clockwork. She saw my look and said, "You'll have to remember to wind it once a day." A soft ticking had replaced my heartbeat.
"I only took your heart." She grinned. "You're lucky you're not dating a zombie."
Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!
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