Mind Hemorrhages: Dark Tales of Misery and Imagination

by Dane Hatchell

  Abe threw up. Donna never took her eyes from the ground. If looks could kill, Jenny would have already done Bigfoot in.

  * * *

  Lauren arrived at the scene just in time to see Bigfoot snatch up Cecil and kill him, while hiding behind a tree some ten yards away. Her mind raced to comprehend the situation. A man-ape looking creature stood next to Cecil. Her other three friends danced to music while Cecil had been killed like a lion snapping the neck of a rabbit.

  Goosebumps rose over her entire body and icy paralyzing fear traveled up her spine to the back of her head. She couldn’t move. She was even too afraid to breathe.

  Bigfoot continued pulling parts off Cecil and gnawing the bones clean. At one point, it threatened the three with Cecil’s left humerus when their dance moves slowed too much for its liking.

  The horror that struck Lauren blackened out any rational thought. Her insides quivered and fear gripped her like an iron maiden.

  Bigfoot continued to eat.

  A rattling in the brush behind her broke the paralyzing spell. Lauren spun around and went to her knees to hide from whatever approached.

  A wild yaupon shook a few feet away and a tiny, pointy face poked its head out from underneath. The armadillo was oblivious to Lauren and rooted around in the earth with its sharp claws looking for tasty insects.

  Lauren stood slowly. Bigfoot stopped chewing and put his nose to the air, and scanned the area in her direction.

  As gently as she could, she crouched low and slinked her way through the natural obstacles of woods, until she was certain she was at a safe distance from being detected. Then, ran like the wind back to the campsite.

  ***

  There was only an hour left before the sun would set and the blackness of the night would make it impossible for Lauren to return down the mountain to find help.

  She spread out the contents of the five backpacks on a blanket and rummaged through the odds and ends for a possible solution to saving her friends.

  Lauren was a double gold medalist, an electrical and computer engineering major from Louisiana State University. It would be only by her reasoning abilities she would have any chance against the huge beast that imprisoned her friends.

  She peeled open a protein bar and ate it, and then put her plan of action into place.

  First, she took two safety flares and cut them open with her Swiss Army knife and emptied the powder into two large plastic cups. Though tempted to tip back the bottle of vodka for a shot of liquid courage, she instead carefully poured each cup nearly full.

  The inert materials in the flare compound that transformed the explosive mixture into a slow burning torch floated to the top. She used a spork to skim off the plastic polymers and sawdust, leaving only the volatile components in the bottom. Once that was done, she poured the vodka from each cup back in the bottle, and spread out the wet powder on a paper towel to dry.

  Abe’s flashlight best suited her needs to use as bomb housing. Lauren removed the batteries and pried the power switch off. She cut a string off a tampon, tied one end in a knot, and threaded it from the inside of the battery casing to the outside.

  The vodka evaporated quickly off the powder. Lauren shook the powder from the paper towel into the battery casing until it overflowed. She tightened the end cap so hard she thought the skin would peel off her fingers.

  With the last remains of light quickly fading, she stuffed a backpack with her improvised weapons.

  The flashlight was now a bomb with an explosive force of something close to a quarter stick of dynamite. She brought a Taser for the climb, a gift from her father in case she came across dangerous wildlife. Lauren preferred carrying her pistol, but other climbers always made a big deal against it whenever they would find out that she was packing heat.

  The makeshift bomb and the Taser were her most powerful weapons. Along with them, she included Donna’s pepper spray, six of Cecil’s condoms, a box of kitchen matches, two eighteen inch ratcheting cargo straps, and the vodka.

  Lauren set her watch to wake her in enough time to be at the mouth of the cave before sunup. She needed to have everything in place when she made her move. Surprise would be another element in her favor.

  She rolled up a blanket and made a makeshift pillow for the night, and chuckled to herself. None of her classes in college had prepared her for the situation she now faced. The whole plan of action for the attack came from playing Xbox games. Converting a flare into a bomb, she had learned from a video on the internet.

  ***

  The sun cast an orange mystical glow as it rose to greet the mountains. Lauren was in position behind a ten-foot tall boulder not twenty feet away from the mouth of the cave.

  Bigfoot slept soundly just inside the entrance. Lauren couldn’t see beyond it through the darkness. She hoped and prayed her friends were alive and unharmed.

  Raising its arm and scratching its chin, the Bigfoot began to stir from its night of rest.

  Lauren’s heart pounded in her chest. She concentrated to keep her breathing slow, with long inhales and exhales. Her hands shook so badly she didn’t think she was going to be able to go through with it.

  Peering around the boulder, the last thing she expected to see deep in the woods of Arkansas wandered in front of the cave’s entrance. It was an ordinary house cat.

  Bigfoot stood, stretched, and looked down as the orange tabby walked sideways and started rubbing on its leg.

  It reached down and grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck. Holding it eye level, the cat pawed the air and uttered a sweet and innocent meow.

  Bigfoot wasn’t amused in the least. It ended the cat’s life by biting of the head, crunching it between its teeth as it chewed. Bigfoot curled its upper lip and spat out what was left in its mouth, displeased with the taste.

  “You son of a Bitch!” Lauren said under her breath. This thing killed a harmless cat. Lauren was the proud caretaker of three cats, and found she preferred their company to most other humans.

  Finding her resolve, she took one of the condoms filled with vodka and splashed a little more vodka on the outside, lit a match, and set it on fire. She stepped from behind the rock and lobbed the projectile at him.

  Bigfoot turned and watched the flaming condom fly through the air and land at its feet.

  It burst, setting the vodka on fire as it splashed over Bigfoot’s feet and legs.

  The monster yelled and tried to slap the fire out.

  Lauren hurled another flaming condom at it and hit it in the side. Then followed that with another, and then another.

  Bigfoot moved and the last one missed its target. It yelled furiously as it beat its burning hair with its hands.

  Lauren couldn’t tell if it was feeling pain or just mad. Less than half of the monster was burning. She didn’t know how thick its skin was or how long it would have to burn before it really hurt it.

  Deciding to attack with overwhelming force, she lit the vodka soaked tampon string and rolled the flashlight/bomb towards Bigfoot. It came to rest just behind its right foot before exploding.

  The shock wave knocked the Bigfoot on its back. Its arms flailed in the air as if it were being held under water and drowning.

  Lauren ran to its side and pulled the trigger on the Taser. The nitrogen cartridge propelled the two tiny darts in the less hairy part of the creature’s breasts. One hundred and fifty thousand volts of electricity flowed from the gun into the Bigfoot for thirty full seconds. It was enough charge to drop a full-size moose. She hoped it was enough for a Bigfoot too.

  The creature shook violently and gagged as it choked on its own tongue while howling in pain.

  While the beast lay immobile, Lauren took the two cargo straps she had already connected, and strung it around the Bigfoot’s neck. After pulling it as tight as she could, she cranked the ratcheting buckle until it dug deep into its throat.

  Bigfoot came to and instinctually grabbed for the strap, accidently coming in contact with Lauren and knock
ing her down to the ground.

  She sprung up and dived for the Taser, pulled the trigger, and sent another high voltage shock through it.

  Bigfoot went limp after the charge sent it into another series of spasms.

  Lauren emptied the pepper spray straight into the monster’s face and backed away as the beast struggled to breathe.

  As it started to move again, Lauren waited out of reach, and prayed that the Taser still had enough charge to take it down when she pulled the trigger.

  As the body of the mighty beast shook, it let out a yell that sounded like all the vile inhabitants of hell unleashed. The Bigfoot’s head flopped to the side, the eyes sprung open and vacant of life. Its tongue draped down the side of its mouth. Its lips smeared in frothing spittle.

  Lauren waited for what seemed like an eternity for the Bigfoot to move. Watching for any flinch that might indicate that it was returning to consciousness, and ready to pull the trigger again.

  Bigfoot remained immobile. A breeze kicked up and blew the hairs on its face. Lauren thought in someone ways it resembled more of a human than a beast in its serene state of death.

  “Hello? Anyone out there? Hello?” Donna called from within the cave.

  Lauren waited for several more minutes before she was convinced that Bigfoot was dead. She stood on shaky legs and brushed the dirt off of her hands and knees.

  The sun parted from behind a cloud and made Lauren feel a great weight had lifted off her shoulders. The birds around her began to sing, and a pair of butterflies flew around her enthralled in courtship.

  Lauren entered the cave, and called out, “Donna?”

  “Lauren? We’re back here.”

  Her eyes still needed to adjust to the darkness. Lauren cautiously stepped to the back of the cave. “I’m right here. Is everyone okay?”

  The light from the mouth of the cave slowly illuminated her three friends. Donna was the only one sitting up. The other two looked asleep, or worse.

  “Oh my God, Donna, are they dead?”

  Donna made out Lauren’s shape silhouetted in the light from the cave’s mouth, barely able to see the features on her face. “They’re still breathing. I don’t know how bad they’re hurt though. Jenny and Abe tried to put up a fight when Bigfoot went to tie us up. Needless to say, Bigfoot won.”

  “Tied you up? You mean that animal out there tied you up with that climbing rope?”

  “Yeah. That thing acts as smart as a human sometimes. I don’t know what it is capable of.”

  “It’s not capable of anything now.” Lauren stooped down and untied Donna’s wrist, and then her legs. “Help me with the others.”

  Donna looked up at Lauren and screamed.

  Lauren jumped, before she could turn around, a massive hairy-clawed hand swept around from behind with the force of twenty strong men. Lauren’s neck buckled at the impact and tore clean from between her shoulders.

  Donna watched through the veiled light as her beloved friend’s head spun in the air turning flips. Blood splashed across her face as she watched more blood shoot up like a pulsating water fountain from between Lauren’s shoulders.

  Lauren’s body collapsed to the cold cave floor.

  Bigfoot looked down in disgust at the lithe form of the puny female that had brought it so much pain. The human fought it with tactics unlearned from the ways of the other creatures of the woods. She wasn’t strong like the mighty buck that attacked with its rock hard antlers. Nor the black bear, which Bigfoot respected as a near equal.

  Despite the superior tactics of the human, Bigfoot prevailed using the cunning of the beast of the woods. Mimicking the tiny possum and pretending to be dead until the opponent assumed victory.

  Bigfoot knew itself only as Hunter and proved that it was the mightiest creature in the entire forest. Knowing that in battle, the only outcome that mattered was the one in the end.

  The End

  Red Rain

  The Daily News headline had read: ‘Earth to Pass through Cloud of Cosmic Dust.’ The article didn’t say what the dust was made of or how it had found its way in Earth’s orbit. Not even a ‘Spectacular Meteor Shower!’ was predicted. The headline appeared to be just an over blown non-story designed to sell more newspapers.

  Mark Roberts now lived his life alone. His gambling problem had come between his wife and ten years of marriage. It was close to noon that day when the rain began. He wasn’t going to let a little rain ruin his lunch plans. The cafe was only six blocks away. He put on some old sneakers, grabbed his umbrella, and left his apartment.

  The sky was an unusual color. Cars crept with headlights shining the way. Wipers squawked across the windshield. The sidewalks were vacant of the normal crowd. Some respectfully jogged past others for the shelter of an awning.

  Mark’s first warning life was about to change forever was the color of the rain dripping from his umbrella. At first, he thought he had walked under a newly painted building, having no other explanation as to why the rain drops were turning red. But as he continued his stroll the rain puddles took on a reddish hue.

  A woman’s scream turned him around dead in his tracks.

  Two smartly dressed women well into old age wrestled in the street, scratching and clawing at each other in savage abandon. Before he could react, more cries erupted from all around. People up and down the street turned on each other in physical combat. Mass chaos raged as rain continued to color the landscape.

  “No you won’t. I’ll get you first!” A man yelled just a few feet away.

  Mark turned just in time and saw a greasy teenager running at him full blast. He ducked to the side, missing the outstretched arms.

  The boy bounced off his hip and hit the sidewalk on his hands and knees. He slid to a stop with a faraway look in his eyes. He gazed up at Mark and snarled. “No! No you won’t!”

  The teen crawled like a wounded beast straight for him. Mark slammed his right foot square to his temple. He rolled over on his back with a blank stare toward the sky. The rain continued to pour.

  Madness, turmoil, and hatred charged the air. Mark ran down the block and tried to enter the cafe. The door was locked. The surprised patrons stared back in disbelief. He pounded his fist against the glass and jerked on the handle. The door wouldn’t budge.

  A sharp pain to his back returned him into the fight. A man in a business suit had jabbed him with the tip of an umbrella. Mark yanked the umbrella from his attacker’s hand, which jerked him off balance and crashed him to the ground. Without thinking, Mark smashed the heel of his shoe into the man’s nose until the left side of his face caved in.

  Up ahead, two more men engaged in a life and death skirmish. Mark recognized the one getting the worst of things as his neighbor, Mr. Crandle.

  “Hey! Hey! Get off of him. Now!” Mark cried, grabbed the aggressor from behind, and looped his arm across his neck with a half nelson hold.

  Crandle rose to his feet with his pocketknife drawn and plunged it in the man’s stomach, bringing it up to his sternum. The man’s screams added to the chorus.

  Mark threw the man aside. Crandle reached out and grabbed Mark by the throat.

  “Damn it, Crandle! Has everyone gone fucking crazy?” Mark yelled, taking a step back, then swept his right forearm against the wrist and broke Crandle’s grip. Mark followed with a front kick to the mid-section, and sent Crandle to one knee gasping for breath. A foot to the head put him out cold.

  The rain continued to fall now free of the alien dust. Those affected by evil influence were too far gone to realize.

  The red rains stained every human that became its victim. And instead of continuing the mindless fray, the spirit of hatred turned to that of cooperation. The affected began to gather outside businesses trying to find ways to enter.

  Two men grabbed a waste barrel and smashed it into a dress shop window, charging through loose glass toward terrified shoppers. Mark felt an inner urge to assist, but his brain still had the power to overrule this new compuls
ion. Things were happening too fast around him. He just needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and this place, and make a mad dash to anywhere.

  A motorcycle on its side with the motor still running offered his quickest escape. He stood it upright straining his lower back in the process and climbed on for the ride for his life.

  The roads were clogged with vehicles. He had to take any open path available and even had to backtrack a block or two just to keep moving. The stained maniacs continued the ruthless attack on those not marked as them.

  Motorists were being pulled out of broken windows. Dead bodies strewn about created obstacles as Mark fought to make them all a blur. The cycle sped faster and faster.

  Once on open highway the wind stung his face and eyes, but his mind was too numb to care. It had stopped raining and the clouds parted in the distance allowing afternoon sun. He past few cars and wondered how many were aware of the madness they headed toward. One thing for certain, he wasn’t going to stop and warn them.

  It looked as if his skin and his hands had been air brushed a deep red. Little bumps formed on the surface. The reflection in the rearview mirror showed his face didn’t escape the marking. If all of this was a result of the space dust, he couldn’t imagine what was in it. Was this one of the plagues that would end the Earth as told in the Bible?

  He left civilization behind, taking every off road that would lead far away. Mark needed to be alone to collect his thoughts and had the urge to curl up in a ball and sleep forever.

  Two hours passed before an old gas station came into view. The fuel gauge pointed to E. There were two pumps in front and a single garage on one side. No one else was fueling up, but there was an old pickup truck behind the building. Mark pulled up to a pump and killed the engine. He sat for a moment before rubbing his face with a tissue from his pocket. Oil and grime rubbed off but not the red.