Note: I wish there were more Valentine-themed horror movies. With a lack of romantically inclined slashers, I take it upon myself to write them. 😘

Imagine the recently awoken Harry Warden stalling his spree to try to convince you to engage in some medical play.

Nursing did not prepare you for this much gore. Sure, grisly accidents and assaults happened, but a massacre… Nothing could prepare you for the aftermath of the Miner’s rage. All carried out by hand. Or whatever hospital equipment he had weaponized.

Warden lacked a surgeon’s precision. That much was clear, by the sight of your fellow nurse’s hollowed trunk. You assumed it was her heart Harry presented in an appropriately cardiac box.

If I survive, you figured, anything heart-shaped’s going to send mine into palpitations. But your training kicked in and you composed yourself before accepting the gift.

Warden’s hand reached for your stethoscope. Instead of wrapping around your neck, he placed it over his own heart. Without a word, you donned the ear pieces. Reports said the other miners were offed quickly. You suspected it was done in cold blood, but Harry’s heart was racing now.

Hand closing over the bell, he took your wrist. For a minute neither of you moved. His breath and heartbeat permeated the room. Then, Harry dropped the tubing.

Before you could react, a blood/ied rubber glove was snapped over your hand. He picked up its twin along with a speculum and thermometer in his other hand, presenting them to you.