asphyxheart - Tumblr blog

[asphyxheart]

Reblog if you want someone to push a tube camera into your chest and pleasure you while watching your heart racing inside its pericardium

Bonus if they cut the pericardium open and let your heart dance naked in front of the camera!

[asphyxheart]

[asphyxheart]

reblog this post if you’re a cardiophile, I want to know how many of us are out there 💓

[asphyxheart]

[asphyxheart]

Two friends

WARNING : dark cardiophilia

The door bell rings. Thomas, a thin athletic white young adult with green eyes and ashen hair, stood up from the couch he was laying in and opened the door. He was waiting for a friend he has never seen in real life. Their roleplays on discord have aroused them very often and they had prepared this meeting for a very long time.

When Thomas opened the door, he saw his friend Rajka. Rajka, and his delicate coffee skin colour, his black hair, black eyes and sculptural build. He was even more beautiful than in the selfies they sent to each other. Rajka had a big smile and hugged Thomas with strenght.

- It’s good to see you friend ! How are you ?

- I am fine thank you ! Look, come, I’ve prepared everything for us since last week, I think you’ll enjoy it, Thomas said.

The appartement was filled with light from candles and the strong smell of cocoa incens just made the small pieces very cosy.

- Want some tea ?

- Oh yes please. I know you know how to prepare Indian tchai, I am dying to taste yours.

Thomas was preparing the tea when he got hugged from behind. Rajka laid his head on Thomas’back and listened to the sound heartbeat of his finally-met boyfriend.

- You weren’t lying when you were saying your heart beats very slowly. Are you always that relaxed ? I counted 42 beats per minute.

Thomas had a soft laugh.

- It’s beating like this because of an asymptomatic bradycardia. Do you like how my ticker beats for you ?

- Hush.

Thomas smiled and kept preparing the chai. Once the tea was ready, he poured it into two cups and they enjoyed the bewerage in the cosy living room. They chatted and drank, then the cups were empty. Rajka jumped on Thomas’knee and laid his head on his sternum. He listened carefully. Thomas’heart was beating slightly faster.

- It’s beating at 55 now. Are you nervous ? Rajka asked.

- Ehe…maybe a little.

Thomas removed his shirt and Rajka’s one. Bare chested, Thomas grabbed a stethoscope and gave it to his cute boyfriend, who listened to erb’s point.

- Your heart is faster again. Is that the stethoscope ?

- Yes…and you. I love you.

- I love you too.

They kissed each others. Many times. Their joy to be together inflated in their hearts, pumping rich blood faster and making Thomas flush and get hard. Which, as Rajka was sitting on Thomas’knees, he felt.

- Oh oh you nasty boy. You want to…play ! he said as he grabbed the hard rod.

- I am nastier than you could think Rajka.

Thomas started to play with the nipples of his boyfriend, tilting them, pinching them, caressing his chest. Meanwhile Rajka was playing with Thomas’rod and listening to his heart beating faster and faster due to arousement. Nipples and rod were erected and rock hard due to each other play and kisses.

- Maybe we should move to the bed, said Thomas.

- Here’s good at the moment.

Rakja removed the stethoscope of his ear and passed it around his boyfriend neck, then pressed his palm against Thomas chest to feel his heart.

- So powerful and strong, so steady. I love you.

- I love you too sweet friend. No, wait…Hooo, yeah…

The rubbing against the rod had had its magickal effect on Thomas, who laid back, a big smile on his face. Rajka laid beside him, a hand resting on Thomas’belly, just under the ribcage. Thomas said.

- Do you remember that special thing I am able to do ?

- What, the magickal thing with your hand ? I do remember yes, but still don’t believe it.

- It’s time to believe.

He sit on the crouch and asked Rajka to lay his head on Thomas’knees. He gladly accepted, curious to see the « magick trick » of his boyfriend. Thomas kissed the forehead of his boyfriend, caressed his hair, kissed his lips, and with the other hand, caressing the ribs, the sternum, teasing the nipples. He slowly dug his fingers under the ribcage, piercing effortlessly the skin, the muscle layers and the diaphragm and grabbed the pounding organ within the chest cavity of his boyfriend. Rajka eyes widened in surprise and pain, unable to catch his breath.

- Believe. You are so cute when you are trying to breath, I love it, said Thomas as he kissed Rajka’s lips and blew air into his lungs at the same time.

He started massaging the pumping organ. Veins became very visible on Rajka’s neck, his face becoming red. He was struggling to breath and felt an intense pain inside. Thomas spoke again.

- I know you want this. It’s ok, everything will be alright.

He massaged Rajka’s rod until it was hard, one hand pumping his heart, the other pumping the male attribute. Every pumping making his rod harder, every times it got harder it went closer to climax, when suddenly…he ripped the heart as Rajka ejaculated, pleasure mixing with pain and fall into darkness.

It was time for Thomas to do the other thing they agreed to. He let the heart drops on the floor beside his boyfriend’s body and went taking a knife. He placed it against his chest and with a swift and strong movement, burried the blade deep into his own heart, then removed it. His heart skipped every beat, until finally blood squeezing the precious organ made him pass out…and finally dies.

[asphyxheart]

Lovely heart

The thin muscular young man has been trapped. It was so tempting, a nice rendez-vous on the 14th February, just to spend time with a beautiful woman. They have eaten at a lovely restaurant, drank some fine dessert wine and the young woman, all shy and murmuring, asked if he wanted to come with her at her home. He happily accepted.

 When they arrived home, she used chloroform on him and he immediately went uncouscious. She dragged him on her bed and attached him, rendering his movement nearly impossible. She then prepared her toys : plastic bag, rope, inflatable collar and the most important of all, a long thin knife and a stethoscope. Everything was set for hours of play.

 The young man slowly woke up, his eyes fluttering in the bright light of the bedroom of the lady. He tried to speak but his vocal cords were paralysed and he only emitted a muted gurgling. She heard it and with a cordial smile, she said.

- Oh, you’re awake, wonderful. I have a very nice program for you.

She put the inflatable collar around his neck and begin to slowly fill it with manual pump, each grip tightening around his precious blood vessels. His face began to turn red, his chest heaving, looking for air, and his heart was racing already. She took the stethoscope and listen carefully as she watched his face turning redder and redder, congestionned by the pressure around his neck. His heart was tachycardic, maybe 154 ; she pressed again the cuff and it inflated more, crushing his carotids and stopping the blood. With an agony gasp, his eyes closed and his heart went crazy and irregular, his chest feably heaving. She released the pressure around his neck and his face went back to a more normal white colour. She was so excited about her first experiment on him, it went perfectly.

 A few minutes later, the young man woke up again, his throat sore from the heavy strangulation he just went through. His eyes widened as he saw her putting a plastic bag over his head and having it attached to his neck with the rope. He suffocated, the plastic entering his mouth and nose when he panickely inhaled. He tried to bite the plastic with no results. She listen again to his furious heart, irregularly beating. His hyperventilating lungs couldn’t fill his body with oxygen : CO2 was already filling his blood, making him dizzy. He was slowly being knocked out when finally, with a pause in the hyperventilation, he passed out again. She removed the bag and enjoyed the tiny hyperventilation movements of his chest, knowing it was enough to make him wake up again.

 She prepared the next experiment by sharpening the knife. It was sharp enough already but she liked the movement and the sound of a perfectly cutting blade. She turned to him and saw he was trying to escape, but the bounds were too strong for him. She approached him, showing him the knife. He was madly shaking his head left to right when he saw the knife. She said.

- I stab your heart or I rip it ? Shake your head if you want me to rip it. But I see, you already made your choice. A good choice. I like it.

Delicately, she cut a 15 cm long line under his rib cage. Then cut deeper, enjoying the warm blood spurting from the giant wound. Deeper again and she felt a hard layer of muscle. The diaphragm. She grinned an adorable smile.

- This is going to hurt a bit. Take a deep breath for me sweetie.

The young man was having his eyes closed but still took a deep breath. At least, he tried, as she cut open the diaphragm when he was doing it, effectively cutting his breathing, litteraly. She plunged her hand inside the chest cavity and grabbed the palpitating organ. With a savage pull out, she ripped his heart out of his chest cavity, revealing a perfectly shaped heart, firm and muscly, dropping blood everywhere. She licked it and then looked at his body covered in blood. She enjoyed it for a moment then decided to put the heart back in its place. She left the bedroom and went to the shower. She was very wet due to the excitement and needed to clean herself from all those body fluids.

[asphyxheart]

Subject - 202

A very short story I enjoyed writing, hope you will like it too. Enjoy !

She has been attached here for hours. The tight leather around her ankles and wrists, under her rib cage and on her forehead were making her struggling to breath. Her perfect naked body and medium sized breasts, her athletic musculature and the tan of her smooth skin, her black hair. She was the perfect woman for what was going to happen. And unfortunately for her, she won’t see her 23th birthday. A man approached the table where she was tied. With a sadistic smile, he presented himself as Doctor Maki. He caressed the ribs and sternum of his victim, tilted the titties and pinched them. She tried to say something, to shout, to defend, but only vague gurglings came out of her throat. Her vocal cords were sedated. Some tears were escaping her eyes. Dr Maki then gave a huge precordial punch. She gasped, trying to breath for a few sconds, then got three other punches in a quick succession. While she was trying to breath, Dr Maki placed electrodes and ambu bag on his victim. He knew her name for a pretty short time but for him, it was only “subject 202/S202“. He had in mind a special scenario for her tonight. Soon the sound bips of the EKG filled the air and drowned the weak sobbing of subject 202. He grabbed a long thin needle and palpated her chest, looking for the perfect spot, and sank it into her wildly beating heart. The shock of having steel penetrating her most precious organ made her convlse and cough. Maki passed his hand from her throat to her belly button, then caressed the skin around the needle and slowly begin to completly sink it in. Once it was done, he removed his hand and watched the tiny edge of the needle being swallowed by the heart of S202. The EKG showed an irregular 143. Not enough to him, he starts to prepare an aed and placed the pads against her chest, one in her back, the other on the sternum. He expected some interesting reaction with the current passing through the heart as there was already a metal object in the beating myocardium. The aed charged and he pressed the button, grinning a “clear“ as he watched her body jolt and her cries of agony as the current heated the needle inside her heart. The EKG showed a nice 176, but he wanted more. He placed a LUCAS device over her and set up the option to pump the deepest, the hardest and the fastest. Once he had prepared her with all those wonderful toys, he activated the LUCAS and enjoyed for a solid ten minutes the sight of her rib cage flattened and her breathing being more and more shaky. The EKG was stressing and showed a very irregular 183 bpm. The pressure on the heart made the needle create lacerations and internal bleeding, her neck, so soft before, begain to have the jugular veinas bulging and she was breathing more weakly. It was time for the final part. He set the aed pads on continuous current and charged them at maximum. Dr Maki then pressed the button and continuously electrised her chest and heart for a whole minute. The EKG showed a flat line. He grabbed a doppler and watched with immense pleasure a still heart, a needle transfixing the septum. He then called his assistants and had them remove the body and find a replacement. On his checklist, he wrote : “S202, success“.

[asphyxheart]

That damn thing. Used for respiratory rehabilitation after open heart surgery.

[asphyxheart]

I wanted to end myself again twice, on Sunday night and Monday night. I was very close to do it but I called the hotline instead, before doing something physically dangerous. I want to die for fucking no counsciount reason. I am lost, bitter and angry at everything. Everything is fine tho, I have a nice appartement, I work well at my job and my superiors are happy about that, I am independant and finally can pay my bills (well, most of them) by myself.

There’s just me in the middle of all of that, with very present and incapaciting suicidal thoughts and urges to attempt.

I was about to do it twice during the last three days. TWICE. But I called psy emergency, they sent poeple, we talked, they proposed me if I wanted to go to the hospital for that. I answered that I didnt want, but needed to, for my own safety. So, now, like right now 30 December 2020 at 0803, I am at hospital. Drugged on temesta to empty my mind of everything until they find something else or what I have.

Why do all those poeple want me to live is beyond my understanding. I called for emergencies right, but I regret that. More or other poeple might need their help more than me...

[asphyxheart]

Suffocated beats III

  I already spoke about suffocated beats, but never filmed it. I filmed it, now that I have an appartement of my own. I won’t upload anything tho, because of size and because we see my face (and I don’t know how to hide it). Anyway, here’s another real story. Beware, it’s dark cardiophilia.

 I’ve prepared the things as usual, plastic bag and soda stream, stethoscope and belt to hold it firmly against my rib cage. I’ve put the bag over my mouth and nose, exhaled and emptied the bag of nearly all air, so when I inject the carbon dioxyd, I inhale only carbon dioxyd and not air containing oxygen. My heart was thundering already, I took time to count : I was at 75 bpm, which is, for me, very high, after my open heart surgery (my resting rate is around 45 now with a blood pressure lower than average). I was hearing my murmur clearly.

Before I injected the carbon dioxyd into the bag, I thought it would be a good idea to put pressure on my heart, as I did in « pressed and suffocated beats ». I placed the marmelade pot against my ventricles and weighted with the gravity against this tireless myocardium, exhaled and emptied the bag again, turned on the camera and injected the gas. As usual, the first gulps made me hyperventilate a lot. What I didn’t expect was what happened after I passed out.

I stopped breathing completly. That’s what I thought until I heard some tiny tiny hyperventilating breaths, very weak, from the video I did. That made me remind of that scene in Avatar (James Cameron) at the end, when the main character is dying of suffocation and completly hyperventilating before Ney’tiri put the gas mask on his face. It was the same, but the hyperventilation was nearly imperceptible. I suppose that everytime I do that, I am very close to respiratory arrest, but tbh, I don’t care anymore. The feeling when passed out is…undescriptible. A mess. To me, it’s having red and green lights turning on and off, all while feeling like breathing heavily when actually I am not. It’s feeling my heart beating out of control (still don’t know how it beats when I do that because when you’re passed out, you don’t hear anything) and don’t have stuff to record (it never works, I tried everything).

So yeah, it’s more dangerous than I ever expected, I think. I once again won’t say « don’t try this at home » shitty sentence because you’re damn free to do what you are pleased to do. Just take in consideration that, if you ever try, you might simply die. I might simply die.

I wonder if this is para suicidal behaviour thing the psy told me…because if yes, then I have been bad in my head since my teenage years.

[asphyxheart]

Experiments

Everything is dark. A cold air fills the room. I am firmly held by tie on a metallic table. I am shivering. I cannot move nor see where I am. A strip keep my head straight and another one just under my rib cage, tighten enough for my breathing to be disturbed.

Suddenly the light turns on the room, and I see myself in a big mirror right upon me, wearing only an long johns. I admit, I am very curious of what will happen next. I hear soft step noises, but I cannot turn the head to see. A young girl bends down and look at me straight in the eyes. She is lovely, with long dark hairs and a skin of honey colour. Her black eyes are shining with anticipation. - Don’t be afraid. Afraid ? I am curious, not afraid. I do not know how I ended up here. I do not know her nor what will happen. - W…who are…you ? Where…am I ? I hardly can speak. I don’t feel weak tho. Strange.

She doesn’t answer me. She unties the strip that kept my head straight and I can now see my surroundings. The room is made with bright light green ceramic. Next to me I can see a table with several surgical tools, breathing masks, a silent ECG and some deffibrilators, internal and external. I put my head straight and I see myself in the mirror. She puts the strip back on my head. She begins to caress my ribs, push a little bit over my sternum, smiles. She enjoys putting her fingers along my rib cage. She says : - You are safe with me. Nothing bad can happen to you. I am here. She places the ECG electrodes on my chest. Soon a soft bip-bip-bip is heard. She looks at the screen and murmurs : - Such a nice rythm, slow and steady. Your heart is healthy, and strong. You have a nice 56 bpm. I try to speak, but I simply can’t. She looks at me and with her finger draws a line that goes from my aorta to my carotids, on each side of my windpipe. She presses hard on my arteries. I immediately feel dizzy, I see black and silver stars before my eyes. I breath quicker and my heart speeds up. Bip-bip-bip-bip. At the moment I fall in unconsciousness, she removes her fingers from my neck and says : - Good, your heart reacts correctly. Your heart rate was of 97 bpm. I blink a few times to bring back a normal vision, just to see her grabbing a syringe. She palpates my chest left of my sternum, between two ribs. She delicatly puts the needle against my skin, but does not pushes yet. - I will compress your little heart. It will beat, it will struggle, but at the end, it will stop, in the middle of your chest. And you can’t do anyhing. She slowly pushes the needle between my ribs. My muscles tense, but the needle finally enters a cavity. I feel exactly where the point is. I feel…a sting deep in my chest. The needle just hit a hard contractile part. I arch on my back, the pain is deep. - Shhh, you’re safe. It’s all good. Let your heart panic. Look, your heart is beating at 123 bpm. It is not enough. I want more. You want more. I breath quickly. The needle touches that hard part, not even piercing it, but the pain is intense. - Here, you feel it ? I am touching your pericardium. In a few minutes, it will be filled and will prevent your heart from beating. But first, I need to stimulate your heart, make it beat faster. She pushes the needle deeper in my thorax. My heart wildly jumps in my chest, it beats faster, it is irregular. Bip-bip…bipbipbip…bip…bip…bipbipbip. I feel my myocardium being pierced, my heart beating out of control. - Yes, keep going on. 182 bpm and I haven’t injected the stimulant yet. She pushes on the piston, emptying the syringe. My heart rushes under the effect of the cold liquid. I hyperventilate. I feel my heart shaking inside my pericardium. - This is far better, isn’t it ? 236 bpm. Your heart beats four times in one second. I feel dizzy. My breathing is irregular. I feel the needle being removed from my heart, but not from my pericardium. - Now, I will compress your heart. Softly compressing it until you pass out. And bring you back, to compress it again. She lets the needle in my chest and remove the empty cylinder of the syringe. She then takes a bag filled with a clear liquid in it and plugs it to the needle still in my chest. She lifts the bag high and press it. I feel the cold liquid pouring around my heart, squizzing my heart. In the mirror, my eyes widen under the surprise. I feel like a cold hand grabbing my heart. My chest is rising and falling on the rythm of the hyperventilation. Under my sternum, my heart is beating fast. - 274 bpm. It seems that your little heart won’t give up, right ? She empties the bag completly. My poor heart, already weak, cannot stand more pressure on the ventricles. I feel my heart shivering, then shaking out of control. I just have time to see her take the defibrillators before going unconscious.

I open the eyes with a jump. I am still tied on the table and can hear the reasuring noise of the electrocardiogram. I try to remember what just happened. Yes…My heart ! I look in the mirror. I can see two red wound on my chest, where the current have passed from the defibrillator to my heart. I notice with surprise that the needle plunged in my heart has been removed. - Good, you’re awake. The first test was a success. We are going to proceed with the next tests, do you agree ? - W…wait… I catch my breath, and say with a murmur : - What…happened ? I still have lots of difficulties to speak. She looks at me and lay her finger on my lips. With a caring voice, she explains : - Your little heart hasn’t tolerated the cardiac tamponad nor the stimulant. I drained your pericardium sac and defibrillated your heart. Your heart is fascinating, I really look forward to hold it in my hands, massaging it, squeezing it…but it will be for later. - And now ? She smiles at me and caresses my sternum. She takes a medical mask and lays it on my face. She connects the tube to a gas bottle. She whispers in my ear : - It will please you. I will test the resilience of your heart at being asphyxiated. You are going to breath some gases. I chose three for you. Carbon dioxyd, helium…and if your heart reacts correctly, maybe you’ll get oxygen. The ECG accelerates. I know how it will react. I tried before I arrived here. I remember. - I let you discover the first gas. I can’t wait to see your heart fibrillate ! She opens the first valve. I breath deeply, I fill my lungs with that cold gas. I suffocate at the first puff, and immediatly begin to hyperventilate. My heart hammers against my ribs. Carbon dioxyd ! My breathing is very heavy, I choke. My tachycardic heart feels like a stone in my chest. My thorax rises and falls too fast to be efficient. I see my skin turning pink under the asphyxiant effect of the gas. My muscles are convulsing. I breath in again. My heart skips a beat, then beat faster again. Bibibibibibibi. Tachycardia is regular tho. My heart feels heavy. - This is very good, breath in again. Breath. I inhale deeply the gas. The carbon dioxyd is acting on my heart now, I feel it. It stops. Beat again. Skips. I feel my heart palpitate, then a tingling in my chest. My heart fibrillate… As I was blacking out, a powerful electrical shock shakes my chest. Cool air arrives on my mask. My heart stops beating. She punches me on the sternum and I can feel my myocardium contracting once more. Irregular, but beating. I am saved. My heart fibrillated, then got defibrillated. Bipbipbipbip. - 162 bpm. This is very good, knowing it is just after a ventricular fibrillation. Breath calmly now. I inhale. I feel good. I see my chest raising and falling. She keeps caressing my sternum, my chest, my whole rib cage. I inhale again. It makes me feel all funny, my heart beats fast. And very hard. I see it moving under her palm. I inhale again. I do not understand. I inhale… I open the eyes. Bip-bip-bip. The ECG calmed down. I remember the fibrillation induced by the carbon dioxyd. The defibrillation. Then…Helium ? I felt nothing, except my hammering heart and my heavy breathing. - I love the feeling of your fibrillating myocard under my fingers. Feeling it ceasing to pump blood in your chest to keep you alive. I want to play with your heart, to squeeze, to pinch, to perce your little heart. - It was…pleasant… She smiles, draw a line at the heart location with her finger on my sternum. She kisses the place where she punctured my heart with the syringe. She whispers : - I revived you three times. Now I will use three ways of resuscitation to stop your little heart. I want to play with this nice breastbone before cracking your chest open.She places her hands on my sternum. She pushes with all her strenght on it. That took my breath away and my breastbone is pushed on eight good centimeters. My ribs crack. My surprised heart skips a beat. My sternum goes up and is pushed again on my heart. Push, relax, push, relax. - When your atrias contract to fill your ventricles, I press your heart. I don’t want that your ventricles fill. I want them as empty as possible. I want as little blood as possible in your arteries. Push, relax, push, relax. In the mirror, I see my thorax being deformated by the pressure. I feel my heart palpitate, trying to resist to that imposed rythm. My ventricles are mercylessly emptied. My heart speeds up to compensate. She knows it. She adapts her rythm to disturb my heart, as much as possible. Push, relax, push, relax. Breathing is difficult with as much pressure on my chest. I feel dizzy. My heart is unsteaddy, it palpitates.  It beats very hard. In the mirror, my whole body is shaking under the powerful contractions. I can see my apex under her palms. Push, relax, push, relax.

Finally, after nearly one hour of uninterrupted heart massage, my irregular heart is still beating. She stops compressing my chest and stares me in the eyes : - I will make that organ fibrillate. She lifts her fist and powerfully hits my sternum. I moan. She hits me again, my breathing stops. My heart stops. Beats again. She looks at the ECG, slowly lifts her fist. She hits my sternum even harder than before. I stertorously breath. My heart is only shivering now. My pupils widen, my ribs cease to move up and down. She murmurs : - I feel your heart shaking under my fingers. Your little heart is fibrilatting again. I lose consciousness. I hardly feel the current going through the chest. Her hands are back on my sternum, not trying to stop my heart this time, but trying to save me, massaging my fibrillating heart. Another shock. I think my heart restarts. I can see again. In the mirror, my skin is a little bit more red. - Good, you’re back. Time to continue. She puts a good layer of conducting gel on my thorax and sticks two defibrillator electrodes, one up of my left nipple, the second one on my left flank. - This heart of yours is resilient. Let’s see how much it can take. We begin slowly, only 150J. I hear the humming of the defibrillator. I feel the shock. I moan, my heart stops while the current is in my chest, then keep on beating. It beats fast. - 200J. I feel my heart making a lot of big jumps in my chest. Now it is irregular and tachycardic. The ECG is panicking. Bi-bibibi-bip-bip-bibi-bip. - The ECG shows us only a little 181bpm. Let’s try 300J. She watches my chest rising under the powerful electrical impulse. My heart palpitates, palpitates, palpitates. Another shock. And another. - That’s it. 500J. That exctremly powerful shock makes my back arches for at least three seconds. My heart stops, I lay on the table. As I black out, my heart beats again, a single, mighty beat, then keep on beating very fast. I can hear it in my head. Lubdublubdub…lubdublub…lubdubdubdubdub. She shocks me again. Lub…The now familiar tingling in my chest seizes my heart. I lose consciousness. When I open the eyes, she was looking at me. She says : - When the heart massage and the defibrillation do not work, we have only one last resort. Do you know what is that last resort ? I try to say no, to shake the head. I am so weak. I can feel only my heart hammering inside my chest. I see her taking two syringes on the table. She explains : - Those two products have complementary effects. I begin by injecting you a good dose of atropine. It will keep your heart at a high speed, without slowing it down. Then I will inject you a huge dose of adrenaline. Not only will your heart only speeds up, but it will be beating pretty regulary before sinking in a very pleasant ventricular fibrillation. You enjoy it, isn’t it ? I see her palpate my chest, then piercing my skin and my intercostal muscles with the first syringe. She stops her move and says : - It is only a little needle, but what would happen if I stabbed your heart like I would do with a knife ? She brutally plunges the needles, deep in my left ventricle and empty the content. The deep pain make me aches my back, and that sudden movement makes the stucked needle move in my myocard too. The pain is intense, intimate. My heart is hurt. Physically hurt. She caresses my ribcage, remove the syringe and murmurs : - Shh, I know, I know, it is painful. Everything is good. Your heart is very reactive to physic stimuli. Look in the mirror. You breath quickly. Heavily. Your little heart already accelerates. I will help it reaching its best rythm. She takes the other syringe. This time, she slowly push the needle in my chest, gently tickling my pericardium with the needle point before deciding to pierce it and empty the adrenaline in my left ventricle. - 196 bpm. My heart jumps in my chest as the stimulant makes effect. She removes the needle and murmurs : - 198, 205, 222. I hardly breath. My heart feels like it will explode. I hyperventilate. My ribs rise and lower too fast to be efficient. My whole body shivers with my heart contraction. A thin trickle of blood oozes from the puncture and run down my ribs. - 240, 254, 276. She put her hands on my mouth and pinches my nose. I choke. My chest frantically rises and lowers. I try to inhale with all my weak strenghts. She removes her hands and I heavily breath. I am still hyperventilating. My heart is beating extremely fast, I feel only my continuous thundering heartbeats. - 310 beats per minutes ! Your heart beats five times in one second ! She puts one hand on my sternum and the other at my apex. She murmurs : - Your little heart is  strong, but I think it cannot take more. I feel it. Look in the mirror. My incredibly fast yet regular heart skip a beat. She smiles. I know why she smiles. - Your little ventricles are fibrillating. Feel them quivering. I lose consciousness.

Something is wrong. It’s dark, I can’t see anything. I cannot feel my chest except a gnawing pain along my sternum. My breathing is strange, as if my ribs weren’t raising as usual. - Everything went perfectly. We can now proceed on the internal part of our tests. You’ll love it, I assure you. She whitdraws my blindfolds. I am staring in the mirror, surprised to see a medical blanket covering my thorax. She passes her hands on that blanket in the same gesture as when she was caressing my ribs and my sternum. She takes the blanket and take it away. Fascinated, I contemplate the gaping hole in my chest, my split sternum revealing my beating heart in its white pericardium. It’s so soft, so regular. I could watch it beating for hours. A metallic sound brings me back to my immediate surrounding. She shows me a little scalpel and says with a big smile : - Your sternum is cracked open, there is nothing left to protect your vulnerable ventricles. Only a little membrane, a very thin membrane. She slowly approaches the blade of my heart. In my open thorax, my heart beat under the thin pericardium. The blade poke it, I feel my heart quivering. Then the scalpel enters the pericardic sac and sink into my myocardium with an agonising slowness. I feel a deep, internal pain, my heart irregulary contracting around the invading blade. I breath heavily. She let go the scalpel plunged into my heart and I can see it dancing with every contraction. - Your little heart keeps beating. It is pretty regular. Let’s see how it can tolerate a twist move from the blade. She twists the scalpel. It’s burning, I can see my eyes widen with pain and surprise, I breath faster, my heart is panicking. She put the blade out of my heart and then lay a finger on the pericardic hole. My blood pours of the wounded ventricle at every contraction. I feel it flowing around my heart, squeezing it. My heart is more and more irregular, my ventricles are collapsing under the pressure around them. It’s beating weaker now. My vision is fading, my breathing lesser deep. In the mirror, I can see the pericardium being filled with my own blood. My heart…stops. When I open the eyes, I can see my heart. It is happily beating in my open chest, pale red and pink. Coronary arteries and veins are pulsating at the same rythm. My pericardium retained on each side by a suture, completly exposing my most vital organ. On my ventricle, I see a black suture. The hole in my heart is sealed. - I love the cardiac tamponnad. How it feels, the sight of your struggling heart, your collapsed ventricles. She puts her hand in my chest and touches my heart. Surprised, it skips a beat. She caresses my ventricles, tilts my atrias, enjoys the feeling of my heart in her hands. She then slaps my heart. I suffocate, but my heart keeps on beating. She whispers : - I wasn’t expecting it to not stop. She smiles and pinches my atrias between her thumb and index. My heart skips some beats, then pauses. It contracts hard, quiver and enters in v-tach. After a little moment of pressure on the atrias, my heart comes back to a more normal rythm. - I want to open again your suture. But I will keept that for later, don’t worry. She lets go my atrias. They struggle to find back a synchronised rythm with my ventricles. She says to me : - Your poor atrias are in difficulties. They are fibrillating. Let me shock your heart. But first, I need to stop it completly. It is easier that way. With a laboured sigh, I say : - H…how ? She lays a finger on my lips and look at my heart. She takes on object on the table and shows it to me. It is a 9V battery, the one with the metallic strips for the negative and positive poles. - I will short-circuit your myocard. She slowly moves the battery forward, closer and closer of my heart, then the contact is made. My heart beats very fast, quivering, and the contractions cease. My heart is motionless in my chest. As I lose consciousness, I feel her hand sliding around my heart and massaging it. Blood circulates at the rythm of her fingers squeezing my heart muscle. Her hand is warm and strong, pumping well my poor myocardium. She winks and smiles at me : - I decide of your heart rate. Your heart belongs to me now. And I want it in my palm. She bends on me, releases her grips on my heart and blow on my lungs. Silver stars begin to dance before my eyes and she takes again my heart in her hand to massage it. The suture on my ventricle is painful, her hand contracts and release. I feel the pressure, like an intrusion in my thorax. I am terribly vulnerable. She stops again to blow in my lungs, massage my heart with one hand and takes a defibrillator with the other. She lets my still heart in my chest, position the paddles against my heart and shock immediatly. The current shakes my whole body makes my heart violently jolting and it begins to fibrillate. She shocks it again, and flick my heart as it stopped with the current. My heart is back in a sinusal rythm. The wound on my heart is slightly bleeding now. She takes again my heart in her hand and keep massaging it. It skipps, is irregular. She says : - I am going to knead your heart, stronger and stronger, harder and harder, to make it stop. Or fibrillate. I like when your heart fibrillate. You like it too, I know. You like to feel your heart squeezed. You like my hand in your chest. She presses my heart harder, longer. My heart struggles to beat. She presses my ventricles when they are filling, sending the blood back in the upper chambers of my heart, and let go my ventricles when they contract to send the blood in my arteries. I am panting, my cracked chest raising and lowering fast. My heart is mercilessly massaged. She massage my heart for a good half hour. She then smiles at me, stop squeezing my heart and watch it try to catch a normal rythm. Bi…bipbipbip…bip-bip…bibibi-bipbip. - Tell me how it would feel if I was pressuring your whole heart with both hands, and not with only one hand ? She slides her hand under my heart muscle, put the other on it, closes her eyes to enjoy my heart beat in her palms. She slowly presses my heart, savouring each shudder, each desperate contraction. Stronger and stronger, my heart beats, but I feel the pressure on my heart muscle like a stone, crushing it. She releases the pressure, my heart jumps, beat fast, and she presses again, slowly. I gasp. The releases. My confused heart lost its regular rythm, erraticly beating. - I will stop those cardiac contractions. Do you know the expression “to have a heavy heart” ? Know it in its first meaning ! She weight on my heart with all her strenght, slowly as before, but keeping my heart tighter and stronger in her grip. I feel my ventricles rubbing against her fingers, my atrias pressed under her palms. I moan, my breathing is halting. My heart is more than irregular. No beat is like the previous one. It skipps, stops, jolts in her deathly grip. - Your heart is so slow now, so…erratic. What if I press even harder now ? She squeezes my heart again, stronger than before. My breathing stops. My crushed heart cannot pump blood, my sight is fading. She holds my heart tighted in her hands for a few seconds again, and she releases her grip. My heart jumps wildly in my chest, my atrias are fibrillating, my ventricles enter in a very fast tachycardic cycle. She look at my heart. And suddenly plunges her hands again in the hole in my chest to catch my heart and squeeze it again. This time, she holds her grip for a whole minute. I might have passed out. I feel her letting my heart free to beat once more. In the mirror, the suture is nearly open. My heart is bleeding. - It’s fascinating. Your heart reacts far better than expected. You were supposed to fibrillate. Or to be asystolic. Time to bring your little heart in a more sinusal rythm, don’t you agree ? I am incapable of speaking. My breathing is heaving, shaky, like my heart. Ready to stop at any moment. But I see her approaching with the 9V battery. Contact is made. My heart jumps out of surprise, then completly stops. I lose consciousness, vaguely feeling her hand massaging my heart to keep me alive for the following tests. She whitedraws her hand to blow in my lungs, and I black out.

I can barely open the eyes this time. I hear the sweet sound of the ECG beeping, slow and steady. It is strange to hear it this way, it was so chaotic for the last hours. I feel her hand caresses my ribs. She whisper : - Your heart… After all I did to it, it’s still beating in its sinusal rythm, to its 55 bpm. But I am not done yet, and your little heart either. She lays her hand on my beating heart, visibly enjoying its powerful contractions. She caresses my aorta, setting off a new feeling in my chest. Like touching a thick plastic tube. A tube that is a part of me. - Your heart is murmuring. Soon, it will suffocate. But first, I have to suture that nice laceration on your ventricle. My heart was indeed bleeding, a little bit of blood spurting out with each contraction. She takes a thin needle and a suture thread and begins to sew the little blade shaped hole of my ventricle. The needle enters my myocardium, gets out of it, dragging the thread in the tiny tiny needle hole, closing the laceration at each pass. My heart skips, I breath faster under those repetitive stings. Finally, my heart stops bleeding. My heart is beating faster now, 76 bpm I think. - Do you know what will follow ? I am going to asphyxiate your heart. This will be very easy to do. She puts her hand down in my open chest, tilting my heart. She says again : - Actually, I will strangle your heart. I know you love strangulation. She focus on the biggest coronary artery, follow it with a finger until she finds a good spot. Delicatly, very tenderly, she pushes on it. At first I feel nothing. Is she pushing hard enough on it ?Then I feel my heart jumping so violently in my chest that I feel her finger going deep in my myocardium. My heart is beating very irregulary now, skipping every beat, speeding up, becoming more and more tachycardic. My breath is shaky, hyperventilating. - Do you think your heart will stop or will fibrillate ? I hope it fibrillates, you’re already at 214 beat per minutes. I see in the mirror my ventricles frantically contracting, trying to compensate the lack of oxygen in my heart with more speed. The inside of my chest is making me suffer. My heart is burning with asphyxia fire. I can see my heart becoming pale, my asphyxiated myocardium becoming tarnished. My ventricles grow again. A violent skip makes me feel my heart rubbing against the under part of the pericardium, and my heart violently fibrillate, not able to bear anymore strangulation. She whitedraws her finger. The oxygenated blood rushing through my asphysiated myocardium only makes it completly stops. My heart is lifeless again in my open chest. I only feel a needle piercing my ventricle before blacking out. I blink the eyes, and take a deep breath. She is here, looking at me. She says : - What an effect for having pushed on a so little artery ! Your heart enlarged, I like it. She caresses my aorta, go down one of my coronary artery but does not push on it yet. - You surely know what a commotio cordis is, right ? This is a violent hit on the sternum at a specific moment of the cardiac revolution that leads to a ventricular fibrillation. But your beautiful sternum is cracked open and split in two. I can only strike your heart. She lay down her hand down in my open chest, take my heart from rear so my heart is now beating on her palm, and lifts it at the heights of the rib spreader. I feel a dull ach inside my chest, a tension on my arteries and veins I’ve never experienced yet. She then strikes my heart The shock makes my whole body to shake, I ache my back, creating even more tension on my blood vessels. She hits again, I hear a wet crushing sound, I suffocate. She hits again, my breathing stops. Again, my heart stops. She strikes with her palm, my heart stops. Again. It beats, weakly. Again. She frowns and says : - Why isn’t it fibrillating yet ? She takes a syringe and injects something in my heart. The tightening of the puncture makes my heart skips even more after that mercyless beating, and it speeds up a lot under the effect of the product she just injected me. I hyperventilate again, my skin become light red. She hit my heart again, but it doesn’t even skip this time. She lifts her hand again and I managed to speak : - W…wait…T…T wave… She focuses on the ECG. She hits with all her strenght on my bruised heart. I feel the familiar twitching on the fibrillation against her hand, the massaging onf her hands around my frenzy quivering heart muscle. I lose consciousness. When I open the eyes again, I see in the mirror my heart is paler, bigger. It beats more weakly, or maybe is it just an impression. She says to me : - I haven’t tried if your heart could bear a very high blood pressure. But don’t worry, I know exactly how to raise your pressure at a cardiac level. Your laceration will open by itself. She grabbs something on the table and show it to me. It looks like a pair of pliers. - I nearly forgot I had those ! These are not normal pair of pliers. These are clamps. I am going to clamp your aorta ! My heart speeds up in excitation of what will happen. She takes my heart in her heand and pulls it a little out of the opened pericardium in order to have a good view on my aorta. It’s here, pulsating, surging with each contractions of my ventricles. Her hand is soft on my heart, but I feel a painful tension where the aorta spouts out of my heart. Still holding my heart with one hand, she apporaches the clamp with the other hand, open it and says : - How will ends this test ? Will your heart completly stop beating ? Will it fibrillate ? Or maybe your little heart will burst. Now, I clamp it. I clamp your aorta. Carefully, she clamps the most imporant blood vessel of my body. My heart immediately skips a beat, I feel my blood pushing against the artery wall, my ventricles pushing the blood in the aorta, struggling to eject all the blood that accumulates in my heart chambers. I see silver stars, my vision begins already to fade. I can see my heart inflating with all the blood that doens’t get out in the aorta. The laceration of my ventricle brutally opens and blood spurts out like a fountain. The ECG shows a flatline. She removes the clamp. I barely feels her hand massaging my grievly wounded heart, and I think I see a needle, ready to suture once again the opening in my heart muscle. I totally lose consciousness. When I come back from the sweet darkness of unconsciousness, a wide tear is visible on my myocardium. A little of blood oozes from the wound. A bleached line around my aorta shows where the clamp was. She says : - Your little heart nearly bursted. I couldn’t let the experiment ends like this. I have one last test to run with you. The wide wound on my heart hurts, every painful contraction making it even worst. I see hers hands wrapping around my heart, kneading  a little bit, pushing on it to feel the powerful contractions of my heart. Her hand is still as strong as before. She smiles to me, with a kind and benevolent smile, yet very sad at the same time. - It can end in only one way. You know it, don’t you ? Tenderly, she tightens her hands around my skippy heart. Slowly, she pulls it out of my chest, still attached. - I am going to rip your heart out of your chest. Slowly. I want you to enjoy your last heart beats. She pulls my heart out. My terrified, tachycardic heart beats very irregulary in her hand. She massages my heart at the same time, massagine my ventricles with her long thin fingers, pushing at the same time against my coronary arteries. She pulls it out again, My blood vessels are tensed, ready to be broken. She stops massaging my heart and at the same way allow the blood to circulate again in my coronary arteries. Still holding my heart with one hand, she pokes the wide suture with her other hand. - I told you I wanted to open your heart. She slowly pushes her finger inside my heart, breaking the suture, penetrating the inner part of my beating heart. She savagly scratches my frail endocardium. It’s more than what my heart can bear, it begins to fibrillate once more: - Now I rip your heart. She brutally pull my heart out of my thoracic cavity. My pupils widen. I use my last seconds of counsciousness to survey my now still ribs, my chest cracked open and the gaping wound on my thorax. My eyes roll back, I exhale. I feel aspirated in darkness, surrounded by water sound, ringing ears. Then nothing more. The end

[asphyxheart]

The only good point with everything is that my heart is pretty visible now. Here are some normal beats after some sport. Thanks to all my 250 followers for following my blog.

[asphyxheart]

The night of the 30th of August

Back to real stuff with that story. The 30th of August is the night I tried to die and nearly managed to do it. I will give more details in the following text. But first, I need to say that I need to speak about it. It’s not something poeple asked me, this is not to draw attention like some poeple said in my dms or whatever stupid random thing you could think off. I write, and if poeple react, eh, why not, bur really I don’t care if you enjoy or not. That being said, let’s start the story in itself.

 When I loaded the crossbow this night, I had no idea I was about to shot myself. Sure, I unlocked the safety so if I ever pull the trigger, it would shots, but I did it automatically. I made some pushes and breathold to make my heart pound and find the good spot to put the tip of the nail I was about to shot in my heart. Once I found the spot, I placed the crossbow and put a finger on the trigger.

At that moment, it was lost. I had no more coherent thoughts, just a whirling wind of abstract and delusive thinkings. Worthless. Live ? but why. Death was appealing. Very seductive. Why live why live why live. I am useless. Useless again and again. Why living. Death. I want to die. Not live. Those are the only thing I remember, but I stood there for a solid 15 minutes with that crossbow aimed at my heart. I was completly lost in my mind, confused at such a point I couldn’t even remember where I was, who I was, what I was doing. I was nothing at that moment. Pure incoherent thoughts.

Then I shot. As easy as that, I pulled the trigger. The shock of the nail entering my body woke me up and I realised that I eventually might have done something stupid. Note that I still don’t regret having tried to die, I only regret having panicked and called the emergencies. So, after I woke up from that…narcosis of thoughts, I called emergencies because…well, I was dying, and my survival instinct, curse on it, made me call the 144 (Swiss emergency number).

It is hard to describe how it feels to have a nail in the heart and lung. It felt like a punch, then no more pain for some minutes, just a disturbance where the nail was because it was moving. It was a like having a needle in the skin, but bigger obviously, and a little bit burning. No blood was spurting out, I wasn’t shouting in pain or begging for my life as some poeple asked me in my dm, I was “just“ in shock, so most of the physical pain signals were blocked because of the massive adrenaline release.

I also called the guard service of my company. Us Swiss need to serve yearly in the military duty, and I was in the middle of my yearly duty service. I called them to say I will not be able to come the next day because I had a pretty bad accident.

After that second call that felt very important to me at that particular moment, I went in my living room and waited the emergencies. The doctor of the village I live in arrived first and began to take my blood pressure and ECG, stething me and even if things were going a bit grey, I saw he was concerned. The nail was moving at each beat of my heart. I remember the bpm, that was of 32. Then I closed my eyes but stayed counscious. It was hard to keep the eyes open. It was damn hard to breath too. My pierced lung had accumulated some air in the pleural cavity and was slowly crushing my lung, pushing my heart and misplacing the rest of my internal organs. It became more evident in the ambulance (I’ll speak of that later).

The ambulance arrived and I walked to the bed they had prepared for me. It was hard to walk too, because it made the nail move and the pain was beginning to come back.  I remember they injected something in me to help my heart beat and put me under oxygen, with the mask. Truly, you don’t know how needed those mask are until you are in need of one yourself. It helped me a lot with breathing but I still had a very bad breathing. The ambulance began its travel and drived fast to the CHUV, because it was the only hospital in my department that had the correct equipement. It was approximately 120km away from my home. But as it was 2-3am, no one was on the road so the ambulance travelled very fast. I remember…a lot from that ambulance, including when they needed to stop because breathing was impossible for me. The pneumothorax turned to be an acute pneumothorax and was beginning to push my heart and crush the right lung. They stopped the ambulance and pierced the pneumothorax. The sound, I will remember all my life I think. Pshhhhhhhh. Under pressure gas, really. Because…air was under pressure in my chest actually, and gas in the chest cavity is pretty bad usually.

Anyway, they drained the air and I could breath again. I heard some words but didn’t paid attention to them as they were not directed to me. I remember “very visible jugular“ words, that’s all. The ambulance travelled to the hospital and we arrived at the CHUV.

The CHUV is one of the biggest Swiss hospital. I arrived at the emergency department and at least 30 poeple were waiting there. Well, maybe not 30, but for how numb I was, that felt like a litteral crowd. I remember having thought “all those poeple for me ? but no, don’t, it’s not worth. Go to sleep“. Then they cut my pant with scissors, placed green sheets over my chest and began to sedate me I suppose ? I don’t remember. I do remember the bright flash light when the bed was pushed to the operating room, then I passed out. I don’t know if it was because of cardiac tamponad (the surgeon that operated me said I was very close to death when he opened me) or because of the ketamin they used to sedate me. They told me it was ketamin. No idea actually, I just trust my doctors about everything.

Anyway, the bright light, then the darkness.

And I woke up.

I fucking woke up.

My first words, once they removed the intubation tube to make me breath, were “and shit“.

I was sore, the same soreness as if you had pushed your body to its limit during a sport session and didn’t do the stretching. Everywhere was hurting, breathing was agony. My breathing volume was so low (they gave me that tuby tube thing to breath in to train again my lung to breath alone, I’ll send a pic if I can find it again). Moving my hand was sending pain in my chest, moving my head, moving my legs. Pain.

I got the visit of the psy who asked me straight away why I did that. I answered I wanted to die and still wanted to. I kinda still want too nowadays, but I’ll speak of that later. I got his visit 4-5 times for the week I was in hospital. I spent 3 days in ICU, 2 days in…“soins continus“ and 2-3 days in normal room. The time after I woke up meant nothing, I was completly disconnected and didn’t care about anything. To me it just felt like another failure, but this one like the ultaimate failure. I got the complete opposite of what I initially wanted.

It is a very strange feeling to have a breastbone in 2 pieces and not in one solid piece. I felt very vulnerable. And weak, so weak. That’s normal after such a big operation and long sedation, but still. My chest was smooth and tender, if a book was laid on it I felt it would make a hole.

Days at hospital could have been annoying, but to me, it wasn’t. I slept a lot, get drugged a lot (for painkiller), slept because of painkiller, then ate my food (one hour for a biscuit, otherwise I threw up), then slept again. Some visits, the psy, the police, my captain. My family. When i was physically better they put me in psychiatric hospital for a week and a half, then I went home. And that’s it. What happened during the night of the 30th of August.

But no death, not this time. Another time, maybe. Or not. I don’t know. For my mental state right now as I write this story, it is half half. I half want to die and half want to live. I take my medecine and go to every appointement with my psy. I think  it’s helping ? In another hand I just think it’s a waste of time and they should focus on other poeple because I am not worth it. I know it’s depression that makes thought like that and that I should take distance from those, but it’s hard, very hard. Death is still pretty appealing and I uncounsciously look for another safe way of dying, but at the same time I don’t want to. See ? hard to explain, and severe ambivalence. Screw me.

[asphyxheart]

The execution

Here is a little story I got as request. Let’s call that a commission for free. It is dark cardiophilia, if you don’t like, please don’t read ^^ Very quickly written, I honestly don’t like it.

  Captured. She has been captured. Because of a pigeon. A damn pigeon took off and drawed attention of her capturors. Now she is in a dark room, with golden dusty rails of light in the black cell she’s locked in. She has been…judged, they said. She has been accused of being a spy and a thief. She tries to move her arms to stretch but could only make her chains cling noisily. A brutal fist hammered the door.

- Stop moving in there or I get your heart, spy scum !

She didn’t dare answer that she wasn’t a spy. She could only passively wait for her fate to come. She was so powerless, totally dependant of the will of other poeple she has no idea who they are. She sneezed because of the dust. The door opened and a muscular soldier entered, an assault rifle in the back and a machette on the side. He grabbed her neck and shouted at her face.

- Silence I said. Take that filth !

He punched her sternum, effectively crushing her heart for a few miliseconds between her breastbone and her spine. She couldn’t breath for a good twenty seconds, gasping for air as her heart hammered in protestation against her ribs. He said.

- Now, you see ? not that hard, to stay silent. Now silence. The Masters will decide your fate very soon and you will not like. Oh no, you will not like at all, he said with a sinister grinn.

He then left the little dark and dusty room.

A very long time passed. She began to feel thirsty. Her heart pounded at each beat. A dim headache took her head. She was panting in the heat, sweat dripping from her forehead into her eyes.

The door suddenly opened. Two guards armed with pistols entered the room. She watched the two muscular men catching her arms and lifting her from the ground after they unlocked her chains. She felt like weighting nothing. Outside, the Sun was shining very brightly. At least for her eyes, used to the darkness of the little room. She was brought to a tent in wihich chairs and tables were making a circle, with five other poeple, some thin, some even more colossal than the two guards lifting her by the arm. When they arrived before the five leaders, they dropped her without any regards and left the tent.

- The Council has decided of your fate, spy, said the Master of the middle. You will be shot two times.

- I want to…

- Silence. No one want to hear your voice, spy. Guards, take her out of our sight and prepare her for the execution.

The two guards came back and lifted her again from the arms. They took her out in the Sun again and entered another tent, this time with only a pole in the middle and nothing else. They removed her shirt, revealing her soft breaths and smooth toned skin, her athletic body and firm belly. She was beautiful. The guards then attached her black hair together in a pony tail and her hands upward on the pole, making sure her chest was fully exposed. Then they left.

A few moment later, the man who spoke in the council tent entered the execution tent, a small pistol in the right hand. He said.

- You know you have been sentenced to death. You may ask to be blindfolded. Any last words ?

She stood there, in shock. Sentenced to death. Yes, she heard she was has been said in the council tent, but to hear something and to face it is completly different. Her heart was visibly beating at her apex as she swallowed deep gulp of air to sustain her stressed body with precious oxygen. She gasped, opened the mouth, closed it.

- No last word ? Good, coldly said the executor.

She managed to form a coherent thought and spoke out of fear :

- No, I want to say something. I…don’t want to be…aim for my chest, I beg you. Not the head, not the belly, not…just the chest. That is my last word. No blindfold.

The executor smiled softly and spoke with more kindness in her voice.

- I see some bravery. That’s good, my little spy. I will shot your chest, two times, remember ?

She was taking a deep breath to say thanks when a loud BANG is heard. He has shot his first bullet.

She felt a huge punch on her right side of chest, her breathing stopped under the shock. She gasped, painfully gagging on her pierced right lung. She coughed painfully, some blood dropping from the wound and beginning to invade her mouth, dripping from her now bright red lips. Her legs bravely kept her up, not giving up. She tried to breath again and managed to fill her left lung ; the right lung was already collapsing under the pressure of blood and air filling her pleural cavity. She was in tear. The executor smiled and pulled the trigger again, aiming at the center of her chest. The bullet swiftly flew in the short distance and penetrated her heart. She stood there, still, feeling her heart weakly beating, bleeding, slowing down. She felt each beat, each slow contraction spurting blood out of her body and in her pericardium, felt her heart being squeezed and crushed. Only a few beat after the shot, she began to lose counsciousness. Without warning, she just…passed out. And swiftly died, her heart stopped, crushed by her own blood.

   The End.

[asphyxheart]

Hey how are you

I don’t know. Not good, not very bad. Mildly bad ? It is a difficult question those days.

The psy says I am in severe ambivalence (I want two things very much at the same time that are completely opposite) and in depression. I want to live. And want to die at the same time, with accurate suicidal thoughts andpositive projects pretty concrete for the future.

[asphyxheart]

I am becoming more comfortable with that scar across my chest. And feels better too. Abilify is a good pill.

[asphyxheart]

Sorry for the inactivity. I’ve been a bit busy lately, between work, psychotherapy and professional courses.

Still alive. Still lost tho. A tiny bit better.