Death's Puppeteer

22nd July 1909 pt 2

Enoch's shoulders heaved again as he leaned over the kitchen sink emptying his stomach of the little he'd had to eat. In sixteen years of being an undertaker's son the sight of death had never bothered him until now and in almost five of bringing things back from the dead, it had never deterred him at all until now.

He groaned and dropped his forehead onto the cool metal of the sink before turning on the water and holding his mouth under it to rinse the foul taste of bile out of it. In the last fifteen minutes Enoch had experienced such a range of emotions in such quick succession that he thought he might explode somewhere between anger and grief.

Just when he thought he had summoned his courage, nausea had for once gotten the better of him and Enoch was still shaking as he clutched the sides of the sink. He didn't know what else he could do. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't but this way...at least he could hear her voice one more time. His heart hammered so hard against his ribs it was almost painful as Enoch finally straightened up, closed his eyes and took a few long breaths. His eyes snapped open with an air of cool detachment that he wished he really felt but hadn't made it past the surface as he slowly walked back to the stairs.
To his great relief, Faith had listened to him and stayed in her room. She didn't need to know yet, and she certainly didn't need to see what he was going to do. Enoch crouched down beside the body of his mother that lay exactly as she had fallen. With a knife and a heart in his lap, almost every part of him screamed that this was wrong but Enoch didn't want to listen to that part. He only wanted to listen to the little part of his mind that told him he could see his mother alive, so to speak, one last time.
His own hand was still bleeding from the cut he'd gleaned from broken glass and it stung as he curled it around the handle of the knife.
His stomach churned violently again as he pressed the point to his mother's side. With the last shred of his strength, Enoch pushed aside the last fragment of logic that threatened to stop him and gave himself over to be driven by grief and selfish gain.
Blood trickled over his hands and exposed wrists as the blade pierced fabric and flesh and Enoch sucked in a breath through his teeth to steel himself for what he was about to do.

Time might as well have stopped completely for all the time it took Enoch to press shaking fingers to the incision he'd made and slowly, agonisingly slowly, start to reach inside. Though no stranger to corpses, human or otherwise, it all felt alien again as it had the first time. Blue eyes closed and remained clenched shut, as if by shutting off that one sense it would dull his touch too. Far from it. Enoch knew it wasn't really the case but he imagined momentarily that he felt more somehow and quickly opened his eyes again and made the mistake of looking at his mother's face. It was like he had just been stabbed himself with the guilt he suddenly felt looking at her glassy eyes and cold skin. But it was too late to turn back even if he wanted to, so he might as well carry it out.

He navigated through bone and flesh blindly but with well-rehearsed fingers until with a lurch in his chest, he found the heart he was searching for. For just a moment he hesitated. What if she was still afraid of him and hated him more for this? Would she be in denial as many of the people he'd raised had been? Or would she be accepting like few of them had?

There was nothing for it now. He needed to know for himself.

Enoch picked up the cow's heart and gripped it tightly in his right hand until it began to beat and throb with new life. He raised it above his head and squeezed tightly with both hands. It should be easier in these circumstances, she had only just died after all and so, he reasoned, should come back quickly.

But there was no movement in the heart clutched tightly in his left hand.

"Come on..." He growled and willed himself to be stronger than this. His whole body began to tremble with the effort and his eyes were forced closed as it almost began to hurt but he would not allow the cow's heart to give out.