A Little Something of What I Do

[Rose]

“It’s alive!” The male’s thick voice echoed through the whole apartment building. In his hands he held the very symbol of life. He wore gloves, of course, as if he didn’t his hands would become a literate bloody mess as not all entrances to the fist-sized muscle were sealed well enough with the plastic pipes and two of them dripped blood as it ran through them, right into the fresh pink heart. Two wires were wrapped around the arterial entrance of the heart, supplying it with carefully calculated steady electric shocks, making it reduce its size, forcing it to accept the blood inside itself.

“It’s alive!” He shouted out again. The heart was not only accepting the blood but was letting it out as well, forwarding it to a circle of tubes that would eventually return it back inside the heart. All seemed to go well. Whatever blood leaked out of the whole circle would be replaced by blood directly entering a blood circulation pipe, blood, coming from a resourceful container programmed to again steadily supply the system with blood with certain amounts of blood entering the system every couple of seconds or so. Pump after pump, the blood went in and out of the heart, following the closed circle. Madison looked at it like an excited child holding a new toy. He was fascinated by what he created. His invention, made entirely out of everyday items and a heart could prove to be a breakthrough in the medical industry, saving millions of lives around the world.

A maniacal laugh shook the apartment building to its cores. Neighbors could only try and imagine what was happening inside the apartment on the third floor of the Gloucester Place apartment building – a place which they knew was used for an office by two private eyes. Two private eyes everybody knew as very quiet individuals – individuals nobody had any problems with. Little did they know that that day, Alice, the other half of the duo they so well knew, was away and would they not even suspect what the other half of the duo was up to.

Deep in thoughts and fascination over his own creation, Madison failed to hear the isolated by electricity running through wires and pumping machines sounds of the front doorbell, or at least the first two or so times before the person on the other side of the door decided to be insistent enough to not stop ringing for a minute straight. Finally hearing the sound of the doorbell, Madison carefully place the heart on a plate, positioned on top of the kitchen table, walked out of the kitchen, closed the door behind himself and stepped in-front of the front door. The sound of the doorbell strongly irritated him at that very moment and he strongly considered uninstalling it as he unlocked the door.

He carefully thought about his next actions as well and decided to only peek his head out to see who it was as he figured that his bloodied clothes would give a bad impression to anybody who saw them, despite the already inflicted good first impression. “Yes?” He peeked out to see the neighbor from the flat below.

“Oh dear, Madison, what are you doing here so early?” The woman in her late sixties stood before him wearing a flour-dirtied apron. “I thought I heard noises and thought you were getting robbed.” Somehow, Madison was able to deduce that before she told him. Perhaps it was the rolling-pin readied to be struck with that gave her away.

Seeing that the person ringing the door so wildly was no other but the harmless and utterly adorable Mrs. Morris from the flat below who often invited Madison and Alice to different meals and told them all about all sorts of interesting things, Madison opened the door wholly and stepped out of the apartment to politely greet her with a handshake. He knew she for some reason never minded any of his habits and definitely not to his surprise, she didn’t even pay more than a second of attention to his blood patterned clothes.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Morris, everything is completely fine. Sorry for all the commotion.” Madison apologized trying to sound as sincere as he could. A just as sincere smile appeared on Mrs. Morris’s face who accepted the apology while in reality, she couldn’t care less about the noise he was making as it was more than obvious that she has been baking for at least an hour.

“It’s okay dear, really,” she chuckled. “I have to run now. I left the bakery on in the rush. If you’d like it, later on, you and Alice can come downstairs for breakfast.” At these words, Mrs. Morris turned her back to Madison and disappeared down the stairs. Madison hurried to ram the door shut and darted back inside the kitchen to his beloved invention, still staying there, inside the plate, pumping blood. The white table cover was no longer white, but Madison didn’t care – it was replaceable, unlike what caused the issue. The heart was still beating.

Madison walked closer to the kitchen table and leaned above the heart. “Fascinating,” he almost drooled out as he reached to the heart to once more pick it in his palms. To his very unpleasant surprise though, that action of his was punished by fate as at the exact moment he lifted the heart, one of the pipes responsible for the pump-out function of the heart bent in an odd angle just near its entrance. The blood from the other pipes entered the heart but it had no way out so it gathered inside. It was then when Madison found out that his pumps were too strong and that they sent blood to the heart too fast. Three seconds were enough to force so much blood into the heart so it would expand enough to actually explode in Madison’s hands, covering not only Madison’s entire body in blood but every visible part of the kitchen as well, except of course, what was behind Madison in the first place.

Madison stood there, motionless, just as a great musical solo sounded from the neighboring flat.

There I was completely wasting
Out of work and down
All inside, it's so frustrating
As I drift from town to town
Feel as though nobody cares
If I live or die
So I might as well begin
To put some action in my life!

Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking th---

“Oh, it is 6AM,” Madison exclaimed, recognizing the song as the man who lived in the flat to the right’s alarm sound.

[Inoryu]

Nice imagery.