• Rate this short story
User Review
5 (3 votes)



written by: MZ CLARKE




And in the end this mask of mortality torn
My heart started beating in another human beast
I listened to the music of his heart monitor playing its stinging song
of steady life and wondered
what now what with my empty blood cave left open?
I reached my remaining arm to plug my wires into the electric socket near my head
I jumped up with the fresh bolt of electricity waterfalling through my veins
I took my Coracle suddenly lit as if a fire inside my dead skin
aiming with purpose toward the hollow of my chest
I could feel the heat and see heart cells multiplying in shades of blue and white then red
Instead of a great infector of fear and anguish
I might become a monster of healing
Was there some way to mass produce hearts for those in need
is this my eternal mission giving my soul a purpose on which to feed?
I will die in the question and live in the answer where the murdering mountains stab the sky



In a fevered furious sweated delirium
My father appeared as a particled ghost
He was here to damn me I thought for sure
what could be the reason for destroying even one moment of peace this pure?
So no, I did not let him speak but spoke instead:
“Thank you Dad
all the lethal lessons I learned
you turned your back on me
and the entire family
all I smell is the faint stench of a beer drunk
Best thing you ever said to me
"if you aren't happy, leave"
when I was only fifteen

Oh, the riots in my roots run deep
I'm so strong because of you
no I'll never rely on another
while you rot in your cowardice
I have the emotional high of this bliss
I never became like you
I scream so sober you wanted me locked away
in silence
the riots of my roots run deep
so deep they touch the sky
and become wings
so glad I didn't kill myself
because of you
so glad
so high
so drunk - but only on poetry, creativity and truth
I've never stunk on the weak well water of mediocrity and settling for less
so glad
such an emotional high
when I defended others, healed others, comforted others
from people
like you
just like you”
A godgasp was heard and the ghost of everything vanished
Heavens opened and a blood rain poured down upon the town
to end all rain



Teri wheeled me into a secret laboratory
created just for me

“I have a list of people desperate for a new heart.  They'll never survive the waiting list.”

I nodded as I looked into a darker light
then half-closed my grey clouded eyes
I became a machine of wild hearts
stem cells implanted into the great void
of my iron ribcage
hollowed out hearts beat there once
but not now
I incubated and watched them grow
as crimson planets until they could spin life
in their own orbits
then harvested and implanted into those humans
most in need
but with each birth of new electrified beating beast
my own undeath began to wane
my season of harvest was done
Grim Reaper's holy winter cast its icy gaze upon me
and closed my fierce factory forever
encrusted now with scars of bone
catacombs flooded with death's honey
my body a coffin folded into itself
as an exhausted soul rose and flew as eternal spirit smoke
longing to speak again

Marie Scampini/MZ Clarke

Marie Scampini/MZ Clarke

Marie Scampini is a published poet, playwright, screenwriter and short story writer.

Marie Scampini aka MZ Clarke writes poetical fiction, poetry, horror and scifi, currently writing the 'Rebelectric Zombie' series as a TV pilot entitled 'Flying Dead', and 'Zizadore' as a screenplay.
Marie Scampini/MZ Clarke

Latest posts by Marie Scampini/MZ Clarke (see all)

This publication is part 12 of 18 in the series Rebelectric Zombie
Read previous post:
The Black Hole written by Khalid Belkhalfi at Spillwords.com
The Black Hole

The Black Hole written by: Khalid Belkhalfi   I am a stranger in this world and I am one of...