My story is a grim one, though I shall be brief in the telling. I bought these cables as a kindness to help the old man with whom I lodge although he has a great deal of money of his own, a fact which caused me, I confess, no little grievance. His eating is affected with the digestive difficulties of old age and I believed that a fine electric range power cable would extend the years of his gastronomic pleasure.
I was never sure that he was using them, as I could hear no cooking coming from within his chamber, and he expressed no gratitude that I had done such a generous thing for him - this last, however, though it galled me, surprised me not, as he is by nature a tight, hard, walnut-hearted man, miserly with his feelings even towards those who help him so.
I took to creeping into his chamber in the night to see whether he had cooked anything with his stove covertly, assuming I would be abed and asleep. I could scarcely credit such an act would be possible, even from such a man, but - my hand trembles to record it - I found it so.
Putting my head by degrees within the door of his chamber I discovered him in bed, insensible to my presence, enjoying the freshly cooked food (such scents! such wonderous tastes I now sensed!) a smile of almost lustful joy upon his sunken chops.
How quickly and suddenly my fury rose - that he should know I had struck myself with the direst poverty to increase his gourmet pleasure, yet not to grant me the merest sliver of acknowledgement or gratitude! I was for a moment a madman, and in that instant I leaped within the room and pulled the heavy stove upon him. I checked that he was deceased - his heart beat on for several seconds, muffled as a watch within cotton wool, and then ceased.
I will not trouble you with the gross details of the disposal of the body. Suffice to say that I removed him and his corporeal traces so completely from this earth that when the constables called the next day, inquiring after noises neighbours had heard in the night, I greeted them with utmost equanimity. I invited them in. I threw open all the doors. I took them within the very chamber where I had done the deed. A reckless confidence akin to madness seized me.
'Are these not fine monster power cables?' I cried. 'See, the very cables themselves did cost thousands of dollars; can there be any clearer evidence that I loved the old man?' At that, I promised I would let them taste the marvels of those devilish wires and I went to cook them lunch - or so I intended. To my growing horror, all that emerged from the stove was a beat; a rhythmic, steady beat, growing to a clamour - and muffled no more, but clear, sparkling, crystalline in all its awful clarity, a noise that pronounced my guilt.
'Fiendish cables!' I shrieked. 'Cease your denunciation! I confess! It is the high definition beating of his hideous heart!'
