Marionette:

The mysterious case of a man who lived without a heart for a few minutes gets the FBI on the case of Alfred Jones- a young man who committed suicide, whose donated organs are going missing- and the man who wouldn't let him go. USUK, Horror, gore.

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He was walking home from the train station when he felt something hit his leg. "Ow!" He said, looking up at the man who had hit him with his umbrella.

"Sorry." The other man smiled apologetically, and they both went on their ways.

However, as he drew closer to his house, the leg he had been hit with the umbrella started to go numb.

By the time he had entered his house, he passed out on the floor.

That was when he arrived.

"So terribly sorry. But it's not yours." The man mumbled, and got to work.

XXXXX

The police received a call three hours later; a man was having some kind of heart failure. The anonymous caller hung up, and left the house.

That is when the man woke up.

By the time police got there, he was freaking out on the operating table. What…? He couldn't…speak.

The police opened up the cloth on his chest, and one of them fainted.

While there was a struggling man on the operating table, there was no beating heart in his opened chest.

XXXXX

"He died a few minutes later." Gilbert Beilschmidt, FBI agent, was telling his colleges. Ivan Braginski, mad scientist extraordinaire, looked baffled at the dead man on the operating table.

"So, what happened, exactly? The man lived with no heart?" Ivan asked him, and Gilbert nodded.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Braginski." He grumbled. "Now, the question is, why?"

Consulting friend Natalia shrugged her shoulders. "I have no clue." She murmured, and swatted her brother's hand away from the body. "That is disrespectful. At least wait until it is back at the lab, brother."

Ivan pouted.

"Well, it's our job to figure that out." Gilbert said, and waved for the other agents to bring the body back to the lab.

"Wait, you mentioned that 911 received an anonymous tip?" Ivan asked, and was obviously thinking.

"Yeah, I did…" Gilbert was confused.

"What if, it was the person who stole the organ that made the call!" Ivan concluded, looking quite proud of himself.

"A guilty organ thief." Gilbert said, voice flat.

"Precisely!" Ivan smiled a bit. "It makes sense! Had the man gotten to the proper machinery in time, it is likely he would have lived!"

Natalia looked confused. "So, why would he let him go? The man would probably give up his identity."

"A guilty conscience! It's to help our killer sleep at night." He pulled out a twizzler, and ate it. "Yes?"

"Okay, okay." Gilbert said, sighing. "Even if you are right, what exactly kept him alive?"

Ivan held up a syringe. "I have a feeling, we'll find whatever was inside here, inside our body." He grinned maniacally, looking upon the corpse. "Maybe they found the way to immortality." He whispered to himself, and Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Sure, Ivan."

Gilbert received a call. "You want me to come in?" He asked his boss, who gave the affirmative. "Gotcha. I'll be over in a few." He hung up, and told Natalia to help Ivan back to the lab, where Eduard was waiting with tests for the corpse.

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He lovingly stitched his chest up, rubbing at pale pecs. "I miss you." He murmured, smiling madly.

"But it won't be much longer. Soon, you'll see the light of day again."

"I promise."

Arthur Kirkland stared down at the corpse of Alfred Jones, his one and only love.

"I promise."