In the celebration of Halloween, here is a short story for you. This is what happens when dreams turn to nightmares.
By Michelle Carr
I’m in his shirtless muscular arms. My left hand rests gently on his bare skin. His heart pounds beneath my hand, pulsating in tune with mine. My right arm is wrapped around his shoulders caressing the curls at his hairline. He is carrying me. Carrying me like a groom would a bride across the threshold, yet we are merely moving down a sidewalk. It seems strange, I know, but in this perfect moment it seems completely natural, just as everything does when I am with him. I am incandescently happy, completely at peace and safe in his arms. I look at his face and though now I can’t recall his features, in that moment, I knew him. We were play fighting with each other as we always do. In that way that we know we are kidding but everyone around us thinks we are having it out. I don’t remember what I was teasing him about, but he was giving it back to me equally. I’m trying hard not to laugh at his serious, yet not so serious face.
Then in a moment everything slows to a pause as we are stopped by two couples standing like statues on the sidewalk. One set was a pair of younger people, very athletic looking, with an almost military air to them. The other couple, two elderly people, stood more relaxed, appearing to be frail and kindly. The older man with a full head of grey white hair and kind grey eyes asked if we were familiar with the area. My love smoothly bent placing my feet down on the sidewalk next to him. I cautiously yet nicely replied that I was. My inquisitor asked me another question that had to do with finding a mechanic in the area. I cannot remember exactly what he asked, those details didn’t seem important. I knew the answer and I happily gave it to him, smiling broadly the entire time. The older woman didn’t say a word. She just observed us from his side as her partner thanked me profusely and reached out with his right hand to shake mine. I gave him my right hand in turn. His fingers grasped my hand tightly with a surprising amount of strength and shook it sternly. His grey eyes traveled to my tattoo on the inner side of my wrist. His eyes widened. He remarked on it as he transferred my hand into his left and ran the fingers of his right hand over my mark. Cold chills ran throughout my body. I felt strangely uncomfortable at that moment and my senses went on a high alert. I wanted nothing more than to jerk my arm out of his clutches. I forced myself to remain calm on the outside, no need to cause trouble where there was none to be had.
The elderly man seemed almost hypnotized by my art, I replied emptily to him as I shifted my attention to what was going on around me. The younger couple, who had also now taken notice of my tattoo, exchanged a very knowing glance. Their stances changed to one that was prepared for an attack. I could almost taste their adrenaline as they were now standing on the balls of their feet, ready to fight. I felt my love tense behind me and his hand moved slowly so it now laid across the lower part of my back. This let me know he was preparing for my move as well. His voice, calm and low, remarked sternly to the old man. His words made the wrinkled hands release mine and the elder thanked us both for our kindness. He turned and began to nervously guide his partner away and leaving us with the lingering younger two.
The young man, who was about our age, approached me and forcibly took ahold of my right wrist. I left out a soft gasp as he roughly twisted my arm so he could see the mark that they hand been all too interested in. He said something about my tattoo that made no sense to me. I struggled to process what he was saying. The words sounded like a bunch of military jargon to me and my mind was not grasping much of it. What I did get though, was that they were on some hunt for those who carried this similar mark on their skin. I realized then, as his fingernails bore into my skin, that we were in real danger now. Before I could react, he pulled me towards himself, twisting me away from my love. His right hand jabbed roughly into the back of my right ribcage, in that pressure point that once hit, your whole body fills with pain. The pain radiated from that spot and spread quickly over me. I couldn’t move as my whole body pulsed with an agony that wouldn’t stop. I looked to my right searching for help from my love who was also slowly sinking to his knees. The silent woman had buried the blade of a knife into his side.
Our eyes met. We looked at each other helplessly. Each seeking help, only to realize that not only could we not help ourselves but that we couldn’t help each other. Then in an instant it all changed. A mutual look of intense anger passed between us. Anger that someone was hurting the one person who meant the most to us. The fact that he was in agony and I couldn’t help, seemed so much more intolerable than the pain of what I was going through. My body used the anger to numb the pain I felt and I pulled the unsuspecting man’s left hand from my wrist. He didn’t see it coming as I grabbed the two outer fingers of his hand in my left and the index and middle with my right. His flesh felt soft and his hand weak inside my now anger filled clasp. I pulled hard in opposite directions. Not stopping until I felt a pop. He screamed and jerked his hand from clutches. I heard the women scream from the side of me and didn’t have to turn my head to know that she was being dispatched as well. My opponent stepped back from me holding his injured hand. I regretted not being able to hold on to him. The man called me a Bitch and started to come back at me. I took my fighting stance this time and prepared for an attack. Before he was able to reach me, my love slugged his jaw from his blind spot. Once again our attacker was caught unawares and thrown back. Unfortunately he recovered quickly and pulled a baton looking instrument from his side. The man flipped the baton and it lengthened three times its original size. The two men started to fight back and forth, my love was at the disadvantage being weaponless but that didn’t hold him back. I moved away to ensure that the woman didn’t return to the fight. She appeared to be completely unconscious but alive. She was lucky.
I looked back towards the two men fighting. I am caught up in the battle, my heart pounds and I am very charged as I watch my love land very harsh blows. Our enemy is not looking very well at this point, blood is pouring from his nose and lips. My excitement is lessened however when I hear a familiar buzzing sound. The sound of electricity. The baton was actually some sort of Taser, its end was now sparking with power. The enemy was trying to hit his mark, my love, with the hot end. Horror filled me as I watched my new fear come to life. The enemy had found his opening and tasered him. I watched as my heart fell to the ground. Once was not enough apparently and to keep him from getting up, the enemy continued to taser his bare skin repeatedly. Damn fucking taser. My throat clinched and tears started to form in my eyes. This was not happening. My love was writhing on the ground in pain, unable to stop himself, he cried out to me. My fists clinched themselves at my sides. I felt something inside me break. He had called for me. He didn’t want to, but he did. All of the control that I had worked so hard for was lost as my crazy came into play. I ran towards this monster in a blinding white rage. I don’t even know what I had done to move him away from the part of my heart that was lying motionless on the ground. I just remember leaping and using everything I had in me to keep him away from the one person who meant the world to me. Somehow in our wrestling, I retrieved the baton taser from him. Using all the fury I had inside of me, I backhanded him across the face with it. Blood sprayed through the air landing hot on my skin, as his face jerked back. My strike caused him to fall over backwards, hitting the ground quite hard. My fury was yet to be satisfied. I lit up his weapon of choice. Placing the hot end against his bare skin, I held it there. I could smell his flesh starting to burn and I pulled it away only to move it to a new area. He stopped making any sounds and his body only moved when I injected it with the volts. I couldn’t stop myself. He had to be finished he couldn’t be allowed back up. I switched off the power and began to beat him. My swings never once losing their intensity, as I struck him over and over. The sickening sound of his bones breaking under my swings was strangely soothing. Visions of the one person I cared about in pain, flashed through my head. I no longer saw my enemy. I didn’t see that fact that his face was now an unrecognizable bloody pulp. I no longer felt the hot blood that I was drenched in. I heard a voice behind me but it didn’t make sense. I couldn’t register anything else but this heat that flowed through my veins. I kept right on going. Then a strong arm wrapped around my waist and moved me backwards. It pulled me away from my victim. I screamed in rage. Even though part of me was pretty sure that the still figure was now no longer with us, my fight was not yet over. My love’s lips were near my ear telling me that it was over and I could stop now. He kept repeating the words to me as he wrapped his arms around me pinning my still fighting arms down. Hysterical sobs racked my body, apparently they had been for a while but I was no longer aware of my actions. I fought to get away from the grip that held me so I could continue to go after my target. The rage inside was not about to be calmed.
“Stop, stop. It’s done. You can stop now.” He kept repeating to me as he pried the baton from my hands and threw it far away. Without thinking, I struck at him. My love grabbed my hand, said my name and forcibly turned me so that I faced him. My mind still wasn’t processing the fact that the fight was over and we were the victors. I fought my love then, hitting him with my fists as I fell to my knees in tears. Sinking down, he joined me trying his best to hold onto me through my weakened blows. His hands cupped my face and brought it to his. My burning forehead pressed against his cool one. It was then that he calmly said my name and told me to stop. His eyes held mine and my anger began to dissipate into solace. I felt my calm returning as I could see that he was indeed ok. My sobs turned to those of relief as he softly as he kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him tightly for the fear of losing him was still so great. I couldn’t let him go. I needed to feel him solid and alive, his heart beating next to mine. Sensing my need to have him near, he held me just as tightly until we both had gathered our wits about us. I pulled my head back and looked into his eyes once more, this time I smiled. He gently wiped at the drying blood on my face only to succeed in smearing it. He then smiled wickedly, reflecting my insane grin. All was now right. We stood slowly together, our eyes never leaving one another’s. Slowly we walked over our victims not even giving them another glance. Our laughter from before recommenced as we left the bloody scene together. Leaving behind our now silent mayhem.
Credit to Kelly Delay for the beautiful image