Angel Eyed (DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE)

twenty nine

She sunk the scalpel into his chest, my stomach jumping out of my skin as the blood pooled on his skin. I thought I was only dreaming, the scene too bizzare for my head to even process the idea. Nonetheless. I was there actually witnessing it with my own two eyes, and she actually did it, the sharp blade running along his flesh like it was a piece of fake leather. The unconscious man was reactionless, too deep in his slumber to feel and I couldn't help but grateful he was asleep.

"Oh my god—w-what the fuck are you doing?!" I finally find my voice again, choking on air the further I watched. She goes on and makes a long cut in between his breasts, the scalpel halfway down in his skin. I wasn't afraid of blood or anything, but never in my life have I actually seen someone sink a blade into someone else's skin so easily without hesitation.

"Uh, performing a heart transplant?" She replies with the obvious, putting down the scalpel and cauterizing his bleeding with a tool, which didn't help much, blood still dripping from the literal huge fucking hole on his chest. It was almost too surreal, I had to force myself to believe it was actually happening, but everytime I get close to believing, my skin prickles in turmoil. Every single thing about it was wrong. "You were best in biology when you were in seventh grade, you should know this."

"Yes! I can fucking see that, but you don't just cut open someone's chest and call it a day! Are you even a licensed surgeon?"

"No." She pursed her lips.

"Oh my fucking god." I ran both my hands through my hair, my heart racing inside my chest. I turn back around towards the door, Chester was gone and I was completely alone with Stella. Just fucking great. I mean, of course he would leave, I just fucking yelled at his face, what else was I expecting at this point? This is even worse than being deemed unhinged, because there I might actually go insane. And slowly but surely I was getting there.

"Will you quit being a pussy, and help me out?"

"I don't know how to perform a heart transplant!" I exclaimed, rubbing my face in frustration. I didn't know why I was even explaining myself when it's beyond obvious. The closest I ever got to performing surgery on someone was back in seventh grade when we had to dissect a frog in biology. Which didn't bleed because it was dead, and it was alright if we made mistakes because it was dead. This is different. This is an alive breathing human being with a family and loved ones who needs him to stay alive.

"Make yourself useful and grab me those big old clamps." She instructs, pointing towards another metal table on the other side of the bed, where even bigger stuff were. A bone saw, a fucking drill, some stuff I couldn't figure out what for. I walked over to it and reluctantly took the clamps, the metal icy cold on my hands. I hand it over to Stella, my grip shaking from the thought of dropping it and prematurely killing the old man. Thankfully she took the tool before I did, spreading his skin tissue first before cutting deeper into his yellowy-pink insides, a grimace taking over my face. She then used her fingers to push away the other stuff on the way, the sound of wet flesh making me nauseous.

Stella keeps on pushing away tissue from the incision she made until the white bones of the ribs revealed themselves under a layer of pink insides. She situates the huge clamps on either side of the hole and pulled them open, widening it to the point where the ribs were fully visible. I didn't know why I was still watching but I was, and I didn't like it one bit. "So!" She takes a deep breath, looking over at me as she continued, "While I'm keeping myself busy, I believe you went to me because you have a problem."

"Stop acting like you didn't know." I uttered, gaze stuck upon staring at whatever monstrosity she was doing.

"Ahh, I get it. Bill hated you, didn't he? And then you couldn't control yourself and almost boned Harry. Oooh if I was you, I would've smashed that."