Banner began to whimper and cry softly.
“You took his life. You murdered him. Denied him a wonderful, promising life. All because you couldn’t face yourself! How you ever were allowed into the Army is a travesty in itself. I intend to investigate that as well. You stole Alex’s life from us. Yes, you parasite, his name was Sergeant Alexander Nelson. An heroic and proud member of the United States military. And now he’s gone.”
Hunter was unaware that tears were streaming down his own cheeks now. “And so is my sister. My beautiful sister, Laura. Laura Nelson. And all because of you. You took away her reason for living. You murdered her too!”
He leaned in so close now, his lips were brushing Banner’s ear. “But now… now is the time for retribution. Now you’re mine. All mine Alan Banner.
“You have no idea what fear is. Over the next few years--and yes, I do mean years--you will know all the depths and horrors of true fear.”
Banner was shaking hard now, mewling and sobbing.
Hunter’s voice grew even softer. He blew into Banner’s ear, causing him to jump violently. “Yes, Mr. Banner, show your true feelings. A small breakthrough, I’d say. I will have to inform the doctors that I believe there is hope.”
He put his arm around Banner’s head and drew him into his chest. “Perhaps, you should rest now, I know this has been quite draining for you.”
Banner tried to pull his head away.
Hunter reached for the syringe that had been left on the small table.
He plunged the needle into Banner’s neck. “Rest now, Mr. Banner.” Hunter looked down on the floor where the photo of his nephew lay--a photo taken on the day Alex joined the Army. There they were the three of them, arms linked, smiling, Alex in the middle, displaying such joy and pride on his handsome face, his sister Laura’s face mirrored Alex’s. Hunter remembered that day and the pride and joy he also felt for the boy-turned-man and the promise of a bright future.
He looked at Banner--whose eyes were now starting to close, as the Haldol took effect-- with a look of contempt and utter malevolence. He began to smile.
“Until our next session, Mister Banner.”
10
Chiroptophobia
Fear of Bats
Don Marlowe
What was that sound?
I was trapped in the dark, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that I wasn’t alone. I could hear something moving. To a boy with a vivid imagination, what was here with me could be anything. Anything.
I am not even sure how I got in here. I was running through the woods as young boys love to do, and I guess I fell. I think I was knocked out for a while so things are kind of fuzzy. My knee hurts so it’s tough to walk but it’s so dark I can’t see where to go anyway. And I don’t want to walk right into the arms--or jaws, or claws--of whatever is out there.
I hope someone can hear me if I yell. But that might attract whatever is here with me; whatever is moving and making those sounds. I don’t think I want to do that. Fear can affect every part of your being. Fear of being stuck here. Forever. Fear of dying. Fear of being eaten alive by whatever it is. All these run through my head, but as of yet they are not real. Just ideas of things that could never happen to me. After all, I am invincible, aren’t I? Of course, nothing could ever happen to me--I have my whole life ahead of me. So I am not afraid. Yet. Not yet, but little prickles of fear are niggling at my neck and starting to make themselves at home.
So I yell anyway. What else can I do? I should have gone with my gut because I now know that yelling was a mistake. I don’t hear any answering yell from above, but whatever is here with me gets suddenly louder. A lot of something. Hissing. No. More like squealing. Unearthly shrieks, then a loud sound like a flock of birds taking off. Chittering like a million huge ants. No. Not chittering. It sounds like a million people whispering in super-fast voices. Unintelligible. Whatever it is, it’s coming closer…
The fear is real now. The sound is getting even louder. I don’t know which way to go in the dark so I just stand there. Awaiting whatever is coming. I feel a small breeze, then the noise becomes unbearable. Loud. So loud. I cover my ears but I can still hear it. Millions of voices. All around me. Then I feel it. Them. All around me. Untold numbers. Buffeting me all over with their wings. I can feel some of them land on me. Crawling. A leathery feeling as they brush my face. Almost like skin but a little hairier. They are crawling on me and I can’t even move. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer but the rest of me is paralyzed. Will it never stop? Is there no end to these creatures? It seems like I have been down here for hours! My brain is starting to close down, when something inside me finally breaks loose and I can scream. And scream. And scream. And all of a sudden I am alone again. They are gone and I am alive.
***
There is no pain except for my already injured leg so I know they didn’t hurt me. At least not physically. My heart rate slows down and my hyperventilated breathing slowly begins to return to normal. I no longer hear anything but my breathing. I am alone, but any relief I feel is diminished by the fact that I am still down here with no way out. Then another sound. Shouting. From up above. Someone outside heard my screaming. I start yelling again and they find me! I am saved.
***
It was bats. Of course. But I was just a ten-year-old kid in the dark so I didn’t know. Until they told me. Then it was obvious. Dumb kid. But not for long. It was time for me to learn all I could about bats. They say what you don’t know can’t hurt you. That is a bunch of garbage. It can hurt you. So I want to know. Everything about them. I learn that vampire bats feed on blood, but they don’t drink it from their victim like Dracula. They find a warm spot on their victim, take a small bite with their teeth and then lap up the blood. An anticoagulant in their saliva inhibits clotting so they can continue to feed. But there are no vampire bats here; they are only in South America. I learn other things about bats, too, including the fact that there can be thousands of bats in one cave. There is even a cave in Texas that is believed to have as many as twenty million! Once you experience a bat swarm, it is very easy to be afraid. No matter what your logic or what’s in an encyclopedia or what the experts tell you. It is a primordial fear of the unknown. So I keep learning.
***
Something is making me go back down there. Back into the cavern to show I am not afraid. Finding my way in through the dark woods is no problem--I remember the way. I climb down into the hole and find my way into the cavern. Bats are everywhere. On the walls, on the ceiling. Staring at me. Hissing at me. I decide to run but they have other plans. Thousands of them attack me. They rip me with their claws and me bite with their teeth. I go down to one knee. I feel blood running down my face. I try pushing them away but there are too many. I feel a chunk of my ear ripped off. There are bats biting my fingers and I feel part of one finger fall off. I scream and a bat crawls into my mouth, silencing me. I can feel his teeth in my tongue. I am losing my mind. No one knows I am here. I made a mistake, a big mistake. My right eye is the next target they are starting on. The world goes dark as the bats feast.
***
I wake up. In my bed. At home. Another dream, another nightmare, just like all the others. Haunting me. Someday soon I must find a way to be rid of them.
***
I am now a teenager--no longer the young boy who was trapped years ago. I am old enough to know that I can’t live with this fear. With these nightmares. Old enough to be able to do something about it. I have prepared to go back into the caves--for real. I have read everything I can find about the bats in this area and know they are intelligent, gentle creatures that are beneficial because they eat insects. One bat can eat between six thousand and eight thousand mosquitoes and other insects in one night. Imagine how much a swarm can eat. I know what it feels like to be an insect in a bat swarm. I have experienced it. But unlike the insects, I survived. It makes no difference to me that I found out bats are not evil or particularly dangerous. My ter
ror is real and overrides the conscious and logical brain. Fear dwells within the primitive “lizard brain” inside our heads. It is a primal fear; born of the caveman days of desperate survival--the fight or flight instinct. They say “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” and “Face your fears.” Sounds likes so much psychobabble to me; only platitudes to drum up business for the therapists. Yet there is truth in those words. However, I will visit no psychiatrists. I will conquer this fear on my own. I have the will to do it. Nothing could happen to me. I have the rest of my life ahead of me and I will conquer this. So I am not afraid. Yet. But I know I will be. This phobia runs deep and I have to exorcise it.
***
I am back where it happened years ago--where I fell in. The difference is now I have a rope and a flashlight. And I know what awaits me. I should have told someone where I was going but I am a loner and it is something I have to do myself. As I lower myself down into the cavern, I am glad I am wearing gloves; my palms are sweating so much it feels like a swamp in my gloves. My hands would slip off the rope without them. My heart is pounding again even though my logical brain says I will be fine. Sometimes the body overrules the brain. I am fully covered in overalls, with a hood and safety goggles to protect my head and face. My feet touch bottom and I switch on my flashlight. Even though it is bright and sunny outside, it is again pitch black in here. The light from above doesn’t make its way down here. The flashlight beam doesn’t illuminate too far and all I can see is a small tunnel leading off to my right. This must be where the bats came from so I must go that way. I must venture further in--toward the source of my terror. I hear the noises again. The noises that tell me again that I am not alone--they are still here. I notice things now that I didn’t notice before. The air is cooler with a faint smell of ammonia. The walls and the ceiling of the tunnel are close to me--about three feet wide and six-and-a-half-feet high. They are damp, with some trickling water, and are of unforgiving rock. The floor is uneven and seems also to be mostly rock. Not that I care that much about those things. I just want to find the bats. I think I do. Yes, I do. Based on my studies of bats, I begin to whisper my memorized litany:
“Bats in this cave are not harmful. They are only harmful if they have rabies. Less than one percent of all bats have rabies...”
As I continue to go forward, the tunnel gets smaller. Now I am bent over and the walls are scraping against my shoulders. I don’t really have claustrophobia, but this is still not a comfortable feeling. The smell of ammonia is getting stronger. I am stepping in something. Something that I don’t even want to know what it is. The sounds are more pronounced. Just when I think that I can’t go any further because the tunnel is getting too narrow, I step into the open. My flashlight doesn’t even begin to dispel the gloom of the cavern. I can hear them--all the rustlings from far above. I take a deep breath to calm myself down, but now my entire body is sweating even though the cave is cool. I continue my litany: “Bats are only mammals, like people or primates. They are not rodents. They are the only true flying mammals. They live about 40 years and are afraid of people. It is only their fear that makes it seem like they are attacking. Bats are our friends…”
The bats don’t seem concerned yet. I must not pose a threat. Time to change that. I pull an old shotgun out from where it was strapped to my back. I do not want to kill any bats, just startle them so they are disturbed and start flying. I aim the shotgun toward the wall instead of the ceiling and shoot off both barrels. The sound shocks me as it reverberates within the cave walls. So much that I don’t even hear the bats at first. The feeling of the cave changes and it is only a second later that I feel them. All around me again. They are fleeing for the tunnel and the exit to freedom. I am buffeted by their passing and they keep coming. And they still keep coming. Will they ever stop? How many are there? My legs go weak and I suddenly find myself lying on the floor. I cover my head and I can still feel them. I am not afraid. Not afraid. YES. I. AM. I scream…
***
My previous attempt to conquer my fear stays with me. I failed miserably. I screamed like a baby even though I knew they were not hurting me and probably wouldn’t. Phobias are not easy to overcome. Try locking a claustrophobic person in a small box and see how they react. Or take a person with acrophobia up onto a tall building and see if they can even get close to the edge. It is not easy and I knew that. If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing. So I plan on going down there again. And again. Until I am completely comfortable being with the bats. Then hopefully my terror will fade.
***
So a few months later, I am going down again. I am prepared in much the same way, but I bought the strongest flashlight I could find and I dressed in a couple of layers for more protection. I also found an old beekeeper’s mask to protect my face. Hopefully this will make me feel safer. My hands are still damp as I descend, but I don’t think they’re as bad as they were before. I am not afraid of the small tunnel anymore as I know I can get through it now. I enter the cave. Nothing has changed. I can still hear them skittering around overhead. With the better flashlight I can actually see some of them. Hanging upside down like little creatures of the night. Eyes glowing like embers in the light. Wings folded up and wrapped around their furry bodies so they look like old Egyptian mummies. Obscene things. Repeat the litany:
“Bats are more afraid of me than I am of them. They are just trying to get out…”
Time for the shotgun. This time I have cotton stuffed in my ears so the shotgun blast doesn’t disorient me right off the bat--yes, pun intended. I shoot off both barrels and ready myself for the stampede. I don’t have to wait long. It is the same experience. Heart pounding, and irrational fear. Well maybe not irrational. Bats flapping, flying, darting everywhere. I notice that I actually am a bit less affected and I start to think I can actually get through this. My legs get weak but I don’t fall. I open my mouth to scream, but all that comes out is a yell. Progress.
***
Attempts three and four are even better still, but I have not yet conquered my phobia. Bats have a thumb with a claw on the top of their wings and have long finger bones in their wings as well. When they crawl on you, they look like demons. All bunched up and using those thumb claws as fingers to pull themselves up. If you have ever seen a bat walking, you know what I mean. Creepy things. Small beady eyes and fangs in their mouth add to their demon-like appearance. That is the part that I don’t have a handle on: the little demons crawling on you. The disjointed way they walk. I am not afraid exactly. More like creeped out. Well, maybe creeped out and slightly afraid. That is not good enough. I have to “own” my fear, not just control it. Bats must have no hold over me. If I can cure this part of my uneasiness and be totally comfortable, I will be fearless. Fearless enough so that I can go out in the world and do what I was destined to do. Wreak havoc. Incite fear. Be the avenging angel. Or is that avenging devil? Some people will think me a devil. And maybe they are right.
***
A young man at last. After so many trips down in to the cave, the bats no longer scare me. I have been in the middle of innumerable mass exoduses, I have had bats crawl on me and have never been hurt. They can crawl on me and stare me down with their glowing red eyes, even hiss at me with their fanged mouths, but I no longer fear them. I no longer think they are creepy. I have cured my phobia but I need more. I need to banish any doubts that bats have any power over me. This will hopefully be my last visit to the place of my childhood terrors. I no longer have any need for extra clothing; just jeans, a T-shirt, baseball cap and boots. I have a makeshift ladder to get in and out of the cave and my hands no longer sweat on the way down. This time I won’t even use the shotgun. I have another idea. I enter the cave and the smell isn’t even that bad any more. The fact that I walk in three inches of guano doesn’t even bother me. This time I stand in front of the exit tunnel, effectively making them go through me to escape. I light a few firecrackers and throw them away from me. They explode and the respons
e is immediate. Again the bats stream for the exit, but I am in the way.
A bat finds its way with an inner radar; what is called echolocation. It emits very high frequency vocalizations through its mouth and nose and its ears pick up the bounce back from objects. That is how it finds insects and avoids trees, buildings, or other things--like people. Or, in this case, me. So the bats know I am there, but the huge number of bats trying to get out through the small portion of the opening I am not covering makes it very difficult for them to avoid me. I spread my arms wide and welcome their touch. I am not stupid enough to face them head on as their claws could do damage to my face if they couldn’t avoid it. They swarm all over me in their frantic race to freedom. I feel their panic; their heat as they land on me. Let them crawl. Let them swarm. No fear. I talk to them and let them know I am not afraid, that I am their friend. Perhaps some are less panicked. Perhaps some listen to my voice and know that I won’t hurt them. After all, we have been through this together numerous times. But they all still seek escape, and after they are gone, I still feel like an invader. I do not feel part of them… yet. I am going to need one more visit.
Never Fear Page 20