Mind Hemorrhages: Dark Tales of Misery and Imagination

by Dane Hatchell

  Yellow and green sparkles started to cloud Robert’s vision. The coyote’s muzzle rippled like waves on a pond. He began to feel light headed and was just about to slip into unconsciousness when he felt something hard form in his right hand.

  It was the handle of a knife. He didn’t know how it could have possibly gotten there. It was another miracle. The handle pressed between his palm and the coyote’s neck. He closed his fingers over it and took a firm grip.

  “Do it, Robert! Do it now!”

  The cold steel blade cut a swath across the coyote’s throat. An innocent whimper followed a gush of warm blood over the blade.

  Robert dropped the book to the floor and looked at the shiny, crimson stained butcher knife in his right hand. Warm wetness streamed down his neck and dripped down his shirt.

  The knife fell from his hands as he collapsed to the floor. He pulled the dog tag from his mouth as his life slowly flowed out, and clutched it tightly.

  ***

  When Robert opened his eyes he found himself standing in a circular clearing not more than ten feet wide. Trees surrounded him growing as thick as grass and so tall he couldn’t see the tops. Hunter sat a few feet away. His gaze intensified like smoldering coals stoked by a bellows.

  Two narrow paths led from the confines of the mysterious forest. Hunter got up on all fours and trotted to the path on Robert’s left. After traveling a few feet in, Hunter stopped and looked back at Robert.

  The wall of trees slowly began to move inward. Thick roots bumped up against Robert’s foot and threatened to push him over if he didn’t’ move. He would soon have to pick a path or be crushed.

  Hunter turned his head and continued on the path.

  Robert was dead. Somehow, he knew it was so. He had died by his own hand while reading the end of the story from the strange book. This was the afterlife.

  Robert had always been told eternal judgment follows death. He would be judged according to his deeds. The time of judgment was now.

  The two paths before him led to his final abode.

  Which path led to Heaven? Which path led to Hell?

  Should he follow Hunter? Was Hunter on his way to heaven? His dog had seemed to beckon Robert to follow.

  Did Hunter forgive him and was leading him to the Pearly Gates? Or, was his once beloved companion luring him to the fiery pit?

  Maybe dogs don’t go to heaven. Maybe cats don’t either. Perhaps they come to this place—somewhere between. And maybe all animals wait for their caretakers here, waiting to pass judgment. Who better to know the heart of man than those entrusted in his keep?

  Would Hunter judge as he was judged? An eye for an eye? A tooth for a tooth?

  Or, did Hunter possess an unconditional love that would erase the bitter memory of how his life ended?

  Hunter was a dog. Robert was a human. Would an animal show mercy where none was given?

  Time was running short. In mere seconds he would be forced to make a choice. Robert said a brief prayer before chasing after his dog.

  The trees surrounding the path leaned over. Their branches created a thick canopy forming a short tunnel. A bright glow at the end drew Robert toward it.

  Hunter waited by a door of pure light. His gaze commanded Robert to accept his fate.

  A million regrets ran through Robert’s mind, but it was too late. He should have done the right thing when he had the power to.

  Robert dropped his head, and said, “I’m sorry,” and hoped forgiveness wasn’t only a human trait.

  Robert opened the door and crossed the threshold to infinity.

  Hunter trotted in not long after, wagging his tail in anticipation.

  The End

  Revenge is Best Served Wet

  “Look, I don’t see what the big deal is. We’ve been married for ten years, and you still haven’t given me a blow job,” Randy said, now lying on his side with his back to Evelyn.

  “We just made love for almost an hour. All you can think about is me not sucking your dick?” Evelyn asked incredulously.

  “I just don’t see why you won’t do it. Before we were married other girls didn’t have a problem with it.”

  “Well, I guess you should have married one of those girls, asshole.” Evelyn jerked the sheet over to her side of the bed and put her back to Randy.

  Great, he thought. Two weeks in a return trip to the Bahamas to celebrate our ten year wedding anniversary and I’ve gone and pissed her off. Randy felt like a cad for spoiling the evening. “I’m sorry, honey. I guess my feelings are just hurt. It’s sort of like having a Corvette and not being able to drive over sixty miles an hour. I feel like you’re rejecting me.”

  Evelyn sighed. “Unfortunately, I actually understand your feelings. I’ve come to realize that men never mature in their sexual thinking past the age of seventeen. So, you pout like a child when you don’t get everything that you want.”

  “I’ve never denied you you’re pleasure in any way. I’ve had my tongue on every part of your body, and I mean every part.”

  “Yeah, well, in the heat of passion I let you do to me just about anything you want to. Whether I like it or not, just so we don’t end up like this after love making,” Evelyn said.

  Randy knew he was digging a deeper hole for himself. He needed to fix this thing now before it blew up any further. In a softer voice, he said, “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have acted that way. Will you forgive me?”

  “Let’s just go to sleep. I forgive you . . . again,” Evelyn said, with a slight emphasis on ‘again.’

  She heard Randy snoring in less than a minute. Their whole relationship seemed like the same recycled garbage. Evelyn was hoping that two weeks of time together without the distractions of work and home would change that. Hoping to reset their relationship. But it was the same old crap, different day.

  *

  Randy and Evelyn were in line at the Iguana Beach Club’s dive shack to sign up for the next outing. Guest had to arrive thirty minutes before departure to sign the roster and check out a snorkel, mask, life vest, and fins.

  “Garrett, room 2031, two of us going,” Randy said at his turn, holding up his left arm displaying the turquoise colored plastic band that identified him as a current resident of the resort. The attendant, Hazel, a beautiful young girl of Hawaiian descent, handed him their equipment. Randy especially appreciated Hazel’s swim suit bottoms, two tiny triangles covered just enough not to be offensive to other women. His eyes lingered on Hazel longer than they should have. He hoped Evelyn had not noticed.

  The two climbed on the forty-foot snorkel boat unimaginatively named, Miss Iguana. There were six other couples on board, as The Iguana Beach Club was a couples-only resort. The Captain and the Dive Master helped each one onto the deck and set out on the daily aquatic adventure.

  Evelyn had been in a chipper mood all morning, seeming to have forgotten the conflict from the previous night. Randy was glad of it, he didn’t want to start the day off rehashing any of that, and pledged to himself that he would watch his words and be as nice to her as he could.

  As the boat headed for the snorkel point, Randy was amazed as he looked at the shoreline at the amount of development over the last ten years. Back then, The Iguana Beach Club had been the only resort on the pristine sands for more than a twenty mile stretch. Now, there wasn’t a vacant section of land as far as the eye could see.

  Other resorts and high-rises dotted the beach in a hodgepodge of architectural designs. Each offered some type of water sports, gaudily displayed just feet from the ocean shore.

  Sail boats of different sizes tore through the waters haphazardly, dodging windsurfers and kayakers in their path. Large colored parasails dotted the sky; one being bright yellow marked with a ‘Have a nice day’ happy face. Randy had been told that one of the parasailing operations allowed you to do so in the nude. This thought intrigued him.

  Despite all the modern amenities, Randy still felt grief that the quaintness and solitude of the par
adise he remembered was gone. Before, he could walk the beach for an hour in one direction and never see another soul. Now, the beach looked like someone had kicked an ant pile over with people scurrying everywhere.

  The roar of the boat engine prevented any meaningful conversation between the two. But Randy made sure to smile at Evelyn from time to time and give her hand a loving squeeze.

  Fifteen minutes from departure, the boat slowed as it approached the anchor point’s bright orange float. The Dive Master hooked the float with a special pole, and tied the boat to the permanent anchor resting on the Caribbean Ocean’s floor.

  There were five minutes of instruction before snorkelers could enter the water. The instructions always included, “This is a national preserve. Do not feed the fish or touch anything. You can be fined up to fifty thousand dollars and or spend five years in our prison.”

  Yeah, right, Randy thought, knowing how well the laws were truly enforced.

  Randy and Evelyn stepped cautiously in their flippers to the ladder leading into the ocean. They were the first in the water, and swam toward the reef in hopes of spotting exotic fish before the rest of the group caught up and spooked them away.

  The waters weren’t nearly as clear as Randy remembered. It was a calm day and the water was smooth as glass, so he knew the water conditions weren’t due to the weather. Clarity had been to fifty feet on their previous trip. But now he couldn’t make any distinction of objects until he got to within ten feet or so.

  Randy recognized many of the marine plants; the Venus sea fans, the salt water ferns, and the sea lilies. But everything looked like it was withering and dying. The vibrant greens, blues, yellows, and reds were faded or gone.

  A certain coral reef the locals had given the name of ‘The Christmas Tree,’ because of the variety of colors, looked more like an algae covered brown rock. The plants of the ocean all had a dull greenish-brown-sick pale yellow color.

  The tropical fish they came upon were few and far between. Instead of teams of Sergeant Majors, Durgons, and Parrot fish playing and feeding among the reef, only a few scraggly Squirrel fish and Wrasse came out to scrounge for what little food the ocean now provided.

  The sea creature they most wanted to see was the spotted eagle stingray. Evelyn had seen one on the first trip ten years ago, and it was by far the most magnificent thing she had ever seen in the water. Its black skin was peppered with small white spots, and seemed to fly gracefully in the water by moving its pectoral fins up and down.

  Evelyn pulled on Randy’s shoulder and made a hand signal that she wanted to talk. The two popped their heads above water and removed their snorkels and masks.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” Randy asked, blowing his nose in his hand.

  “I’m starting to cramp a little. I’m going back to the boat. There’s nothing much to see here anyway,” she said.

  “What do you mean? I’ve seen three tennis shoes, two pairs of sunglasses, beer cans, a hamburger wrapper, and a chair,” Randy said, sarcastically.

  “I’m going back. You coming?” she asked.

  “No, we’ve got about fifteen minutes left before they blow the whistle. I’m going to look around some more and see if I can spot something different.”

  “See you on the boat.” Evelyn returned the mask and snorkel to her face and mouth, and started her swim back.

  Randy continued against the current, so the current would be with him when it was time to swim back to the boat. As the next reef came into focus, he saw a fish unlike any he had seen before. At first he didn’t think it was a fish at all. Its shape made it look more like a piece of pipe.

  It had eyes and gills and was certainly a fish. He estimated the fish to be about a foot long and four inches wide. Its skin was bright yellow with tiny neon blue specks that glistened as the rays of the sun reflected off of them. The mouth was its most unique feature. Unusually big and remained perpetually opened. Never once did he see it close.

  Randy swam closer to it and stopped when he was just a few feet away, fearing of getting too close and scaring it. The strange fish seemed to be as curious about Randy as he was about it.

  The bright colored fish flapped its thin pectoral fins and moved closer, just inches away from his mask. It looked at him eye to eye.

  Randy wished he had an underwater camera and that Evelyn had been there to see this. She was more the snorkeling fan than he, and this might be a once in a lifetime event.

  Man and fish stared at one another. Randy felt himself being drawn through its eyes into its consciousness. It was nothing that overwhelmed him, but a connection soft and comfortable in his mind. The sun’s rays cascading in the water and the rhythm of the ocean made him feel one with it, and one with the fish.

  Three shrill reports from the Dive Master’s whistle broke Randy from his captive trance. His eyes focused to reality again. The fish was still there looking at him.

  Once again he regretted not having a camera, but it was time to go. He gave the fish a wave goodbye, turned, and headed back to the boat.

  Randy had not been swimming long when he felt something slither up the left leg of his swimming trunks. He immediately stopped kicking his fins and turned his head to see the tail of the strange fish sticking out from underneath. Before he could reach down and grab it, he felt the mouth of the fish slide over and come to rest at the base of his man-shaft.

  An electric charge shot through him, disabling the muscle control of his arms and legs. Randy’s head stayed supported above the water only by his life vest, but he could do nothing about the fish that had now curled up in his trunks.

  Numbness came over his entire body and quenched any panic he thought he should be feeling. Then, a warm feeling of pleasure engulfed his crotch, and muscle control slowly returned to his limbs.

  The whistle blew three more times. Randy was able to return to his swim to the boat.

  What in the hell just happened? he wondered. A fish just swallowed my dick! It’s still there! What am I going to do? The total absurdity of the situation made him embarrassed. What next? Pull down his swim trunks and ask the Dive Master to pull the fish off his dick? He could hear them all laughing now. Hey man, you shouldn’t use your dick for bait!

  But he felt something more than embarrassment. The hypnotic oneness with the fish still lurked just below the surface of his consciousness, and he didn’t want to do anything to betray the feeling he felt.

  Randy made it to the boat’s ladder, removed his flippers, and handed them to the Dive Master above. He decided he would keep the event to himself until he reached shore, and have the resort’s nurse look at him if he couldn’t get the fish off himself.

  Evelyn waited next to the Dive Master with a towel. “See anything?” she asked, as he climbed up.

  “No. Nothing really. Civilization has come to paradise and destroyed it.” Randy quickly grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his waist, and he and Evelyn sat down for the ride back.

  Randy felt the lump in his swimsuit grow smaller and smaller as the boat bounced off the water making time back to the resort. When he thought no one was looking, he would reach his hand down the towel and feel inside his trunks. The fish felt like it kept getting thinner, until it felt like it was no thicker than a condom.

  The boat slowed as it made its approach to the dock and came to rest against the vinyl bumpers. The Captain and Dive Master secured the bow and stern with thick ropes, and then helped everyone off of the boat. Making sure to shake each man’s hand in hopes of palming a tip.

  When Evelyn stood to leave, Randy noticed a reddish puddle of water where she sat.

  “Evelyn,” Randy said, and nodded towards the puddle.

  “Darn it. I’ve started my period,” she said.

  “That’s just fucking great,” Randy thought. But then again, it was much the same story every time the two made a beach trip.

  *

  Randy turned the bed covers down on the antique four post bed while Evelyn finished
in the bathroom. The bed was one of the special amenities that added to the fond memories they made on their honeymoon. Randy especially remembered the night she had tied his arms and legs to the bed posts, and had her way with him.

  Evelyn climbed into the left side of the bed and immediately laid on her right side with her back to Randy. “I’m tired. Goodnight,” she said.

  Randy immediately flipped on his right side and supported himself on his elbow, hovering over her.

  Evelyn felt him in her back and his hot breath on her neck. “What?” she said in a weary voice.

  Randy paused a moment, then said, “Well . . . you know, second honeymoon and all.”

  “I’ve got my period and the back door’s closed tonight. Go to bed, Randy.”

  Randy heaved a big sigh, and then caught himself, he didn’t want his disappointment to sound like he was pouting again.

  “I know, I know. It’s just . . . it’s just that I don’t know how we’re going to have kids if we don’t ‘do it.’ He said in a leading way, and laid on his back.

  Evelyn paused a moment and sat straight up in bed. “Kids? Did you say kids?” she asked as if she didn’t hear him right. Evelyn had always wanted children, but that had been a hot subject with Randy. She knew when they married he was not in favor of having children, but she thought she could change him. But that never happened. After a huge fight over it three years ago, she hadn’t brought it up since.

  “Well, yeah. It’s been ten years since we got married. It’ll be like we’re starting over again with this second honeymoon. Let’s start a new life with children,” Randy said.

  Overwhelming joy surged through Evelyn. She could hardly believe her ears. “Oh, Randy. Are you serious?” she giggled, her tiredness now given way to new energy.

  “I couldn’t be more serious,” he said calmly, his voice now drifting off as if he were tired.

  “Oh, that’s so wonderful,” Evelyn said, and started giving him multiple kisses on his face.