Melanie's Journey

by Michael Cross

  Mark’s voice was the next thing I heard. He asked if I was okay and gave me a comforting hug. I appreciated this, but my adrenaline levels were still high and I was even a bit shaky. I laughed a bit and pulled him tighter to me—not that I needed the reassurance, I just wanted to take advantage of this moment. Nicole drove up in Mark’s car (apparently she had waited while the guys were hiding near me in case anything went wrong). Mark and Daniel quickly bound the legs and arms with adjustable bands, like cops use for unruly rioters, and loaded the guy into the trunk. When Mark was about to shut the door Daniel asked me how much the guy drank and, when he discovered he had consumed the whole can, he went ahead and shut the door, “No way he needs more sedative in that case—he will be out for at least two hours”.

  The excitement and anticipation level was high in the car as we raced out of the parking lot. One would think such a situation would make us tense but it did not. Of course Mark drove carefully from then on so no cops would pull us over—it would be difficult to explain why we had a guy stuffed in the trunk after all.

  We were all pleased with how things had progressed so far and everyone was especially impressed with my performance in the capture—but then I reminded them the play was not over yet. Nicole laughed, knowing the entirety of my plan, but we were not going to let the guys in on everything until we were at our destination.

  We drove for a couple of hours into the mountains, and when Mark said, “There it is” we pulled off onto a dirt road. As we drove up this road I looked out the window at the clear sky—one could see the Milky Way Galaxy so clear at this high of elevation. I just wished my ears would stop popping though. Then Daniel said, “Over here!” We slowed down and stopped. This was the place.

  I then told Daniel and Mark what to do next. They took the guy out of the trunk and hauled him over to one of the dead trees. It was perfect, since it was not too wide and only had some old branches extending out. It looked great as the prop for my plan and it being pitch black outside except for our flashlights, and the stars, it only added to the effect. They took off the bands, removed all his clothes, and then tied him to the tree. To make sure he could not get away I had them place a bike chain around his neck and lock it so he could breath but there was no chance he could escape. They also put a gag ball in his mouth. The scene was set for act two.

  At this point I asked Daniel to wake him up—I knew he had something in his kit for such an occasion. Daniel took out a needle and gave the guy a shot in the leg. I asked how long it would be for him to gain full consciousness and Daniel predicted about five minutes. “Great, now get me the things I asked for and hide from his sight before he wakes up!” They did as I asked and I placed a little flashlight on a chunk of wood so as to give me some light, like a performer would have on a stage. As I waited I looked up into the sky and thought how awesome the universe was.

  Then I was interrupted from my thoughts by the groaning of my new friend. Now was the time for me to take charge, and not be merely a passive participant. I only hoped that I would not freak Mark out too much, but at the same time I certainly didn’t want to disappoint Nicole.

  The guy had been unconscious for several hours—and he knew nothing of where he was, only that it was in the woods (for all he knew we were still back in Portland, at least if he didn’t take notice of the lack of background lights). I took my coat off so he would see me my full outfit. It was part of my plan for him to think we were still alone, and that he was stupid enough to believe this little girl had stripped him and tied him up all by herself. I hoped he was into the concept of sado-masochism because he was in store for the ultimate dominatrix experience.

  I caressed his face and neck then, in a cat-like voice, said, “Well, hello there…I was getting worried you wouldn’t wake up.” As he gained more consciousness he started to struggle and protest—the gag made it sound as if I had a trapped bear before me. “Wanna have some fun?” I then forced myself to move my hand over his chest as if to tease my prisoner into believing this was just my freakish attempt at foreplay. I then got as close to him as I could and asked, “Do you like the idea of being at my mercy, not knowing what to expect, never knowing what I might do next?” He nodded his head but I could tell he was unsure of the situation. I then asked him if he might like to try something totally different, and he seemed to indicate guarded anticipation.

  I knew that my friends were hiding, watching, but I lost consciousness of them—the same way I did the day I met the young woman in the woods. I did not think about them for the moment—it was just him and I playing out a scene under the watchful glow of the starlit sky. I began to remove my clothing with no concern of what this guy would think, or my friends. In just a couple of moments it was just him and I naked in some remote forest.

  At this point he seemed to be less stressed, in that fearful sort of way, and must have been convinced by then that this was going to be an awesome experience for him. I then took out the thick rubber band that I had picked up off the floor in the supermarket a couple of days earlier. Without sharing too many details, I then sacrificed some of my dignity and made contact with his groin—but only to wrap the band tightly around him in the fashion that a farmer might castrate a sheep or a bull. At first he did not seem to protest, yet he probably thought it was merely temporary, part of the act, in fact one could tell he was enjoying it.

  I then purposely took my time as I continued the performance. I told him he was everything I wanted and that this was my ultimate fantasy. At first he seemed to enjoy it but one could tell the band was probably getting a bit uncomfortable, yet he could do nothing about it. I asked if he knew anything about circulation, and then he looked at me in a funny, perplexed, maybe confused manner. I then gave him a little lecture that would have made Mr. Ortega, the biology teacher, proud—ending it with the warning that if you left something like this on too long the testicles would cease to be revivable and would actually fall off in time, just like a farm animal.

  Then, as he started to violently struggle, yet again, with no possibility of escape. I asked, “Do you know the difference between a stallion and a gelding?” Strange, he did not seem to want to take part in my conversation anymore.

  I had thought about taking the ball out of his mouth but decided not to. I instead asked if he had any experiences with horses—suddenly, there appeared to be a light coming on in his tiny brain, and an “Oh, does this have something to do with…” kind of realization perhaps. You could see it in his eyes as well as the momentary pause in his desperate attempts at struggle to save his manhood, so to speak. “Yes, that’s right…I guess you have had at least one experience with a helpless horse…maybe even a helpless young man…maybe his name was Todd Flemming?” Gee, now one could really see the light had come on. He stopped. His eyes had been wide open but now they formed a hateful glare on me—I knew if he could get out he would rip me to shreds, but that was not going to happen. I then offered to stop all of this if he would admit that he persecuted the young man, and did indeed kill his horse. Of course I reminded him that if I did not remove the band soon it might as well stay on, but also joked that maybe his ability to sing might improve (at that I just could not control my laughter).

  He did not hesitate—still conveying his hate to me he nodded in admission to the questions I had asked. I thanked him and then asked him if he liked the view of the sky. I started giving him a mini astronomy lesson—knowing full well he had expected that with his admission I would remove the band that by now must have been close to accomplishing its mission. His anger and his desperate struggles interrupted what I considered an interesting lesson, but I was going to continue, patiently waiting, contemplating what was going on in his head right then.

  At that point I remembered my friends and wondered what they were thinking, or saying to one another—was my audience totally freaked out or enjoying this side of my creative personality? I had even lost consciousness of the fact that while Nicole had seen me undressed, Mark and Da
niel had not, and I wondered if this affected their view, well Mark’s view, of who I was. I then decided to wrap things up.

  Even though it was too dark to see clearly, I looked at my watch…at least I had this on, and in that ironic, arrogant sort of way, said, “Oh, gosh, it’s been what, 20 or 30 minutes since I put that thing on? Even if I took it off now it wouldn’t matter…I mean, I’m sure those things are pretty useless by now. But hey, guess you won’t have to mess with birth control anymore…then again, you probably won’t be all that interested in sex anyway!” Then, just to add insult to injury, I got real close to him, for some reason now not even being bothered with my naked body against his, and asked, “You know, it will be a little while before your body adjusts to being a gelding, would you like to have some fun now…I mean, just for the memories?”

  He looked at me with his exhausted face which now conveyed a look of total confusion. Yes, I guess it was time for the final act. With the intention of re-creating the St. Sebastion scene I walked over to where the supplies had been placed, next to an old rotten tree stump, and a patch of small spruce trees. Mark, who was hiding behind the trees, was the closest to me and whispered, “Wow, I mean...what can I say?” I noticed he was not looking directly at me, probably a bit embarrassed, but he continued, “Here are the arrows and the bow…put these gloves on so the string won’t scratch your arm. And please…aim well and don’t lose any arrows here.” He did not have to worry since when I was younger I used to practice alone in a field next to our home. I would not miss.

  I went over and asked my friend if he had ever seen the painting of St. Sebastion but obviously he had not—that didn’t matter though since the only thing this guy had in common with St. Sebastion was being tied to a tree, and their fate. Then again, even here their fates were not even that connected since Sebastion survived the arrows only to be killed later. I would not fail as the ancient archer had done.

  Fear now seized him, one could tell, well…maybe horror would describe his condition better. I took the first arrow, placed it on the bow, assumed an archer’s position, pulled back (maybe trying to impress Mark) and released it. It was interesting... I mean the “thunk” sound the arrow made as it entered his body just below the ribs. I decided to reposition and send another arrow on its path pretty quickly, I mean I was not a monster after all—why not finish the job quickly?

  I aimed the arrow thinking I’d hit him with a fatal blow but instead I hit him directly in the abdomen which was not a vital region in a strict sense. Now I was getting frustrated. Then as I moved closer to him to gain better accuracy I had forgotten I was barefoot and I stepped on something sharp like a pine cone. It really hurt and I let out some profanity and brushed off the bottom of my foot. It had not cut me but it still really hurt, and then I worried about Mark’s reaction since I had never, ever, heard him use any bad language. Now I became furious at the guy on the tree and, limping a bit, got even closer to him.

  I took aim with the third arrow and again, only penetrated his side, yet what was weird was the arrow’s head had gone straight through and pinned him to the tree. I guess I was stronger than I had thought—and the pain he had caused me had elevated my adrenaline levels. He was still alive though, but started to cough up blood, so the first arrow must have cut into the right lung. Feeling a bit frustrated I limped back to Mark and he asked me if I was okay as he handed me two more arrows. I did not answer his question, and then he asked if maybe I wanted some help. In a determined manner I replied, “No way!” as I straightened my back and stuck my head defiantly in the air like some marching Russian soldier. I went over, apologized to the guy for being such a lousy shot—and blamed it on the lack of lighting. I stepped back about two yards away from him and took several deep breaths, knelt onto my knee, positioned my arrow and pulled back so hard on the bow I was surprised it did not break and let go—this time the arrow punctured him directly between the lower ribs. At that, he slumped over and went limp.

  “You can all come out now!” I shouted to everyone. In my mind time seemed to pass really fast, but when Nicole came over she said, “Wow, you took like almost an hour and a half—I am so impressed! I’d like to give you a big hug, but first here, clean yourself off.” I had not noticed any streams of blood shooting out of his body but when she shined her light on me I did indeed have some blood splatter. As I carefully wiped his blood and sweat off of me Nicole asked to look at my foot. I sat down on the stump and she said I had a splinter—it was no wonder it hurt so much. She gently cleaned the area and removed the object. She told me to wait while she retrieved a bandage from the car. When she returned she placed it on the wound and asked “Is that better my dear?” and I said it was much better. She looked at me and smiled.

  The guys had bypassed us and had gone directly to the body. “Ouch!” was the first thing I heard Daniel say in a loud voice. Mark seemed to gaze on the body a moment and then said something about cleaning up the area. I quickly got my regular clothes from Nicole, put them on and went over to Mark to see if he had anything to say. He did. “Well, Melanie, that was quite the performance… is everything okay—you feeling alright? Do you need...” I cut him off by putting my hand over his mouth and assured him I was perfectly fine, and that I did not need any treatment for trauma. “Okay… if you are sure…I guess then we just have to get rid of the body now.” I detected a concerned, warm tone in his voice.

  In the meantime Daniel had brought over a sleeping bag from the car. Nicole and I watched as the guys took the arrows out of the body and then wash them off in a tiny waterfall over by the car. Daniel said that soon they would put the body in the bag and take it on its final journey. He explained the plan, “We will drive to the Columbia and there we’ll put some heavy rocks in the bag. Then he’ll get the closest thing to a burial-at-sea one can get in these parts.” His clothing would later be burnt along with the archery set. Nothing would be left to chance.

  Mark and Nicole checked over the crime scene Then Nicole came over to me and put her arm around my shoulder. “I have to hand it to you, you were so awesome. If you saw this in a movie you’d never believe this could be real.” I did not say anything but “Thanks” while I looked at the tree. Then I had to ask, “Do you think that it looked like the painting?” She then said, “Hey it was a work of art!”

  I immediately asked her, “So when can we do this again?” Nicole quickly kissed me on the ear and held me by the side real tight. She did not respond at first, just sighed and turned to look closely at me…then stated, “We have a couple of prospects but we’ll need to develop some strategies. Can you be patient?” I nodded to indicate I could.

  Daniel came over, took Nicole away a moment, and quietly said something to her. She laughed and returned and suggested we go over by a fallen tree away from everything. When we sat down Nicole shook her head, laughed again, and told me that Daniel and Mark wanted a little privacy since the plan was for them to strip and then put the body in the bag. It would be messy but they would wash off in the waterfall afterward, and then get dressed. She thought it was funny that they were so modest and all. I too thought it was humorous but a bit ironic, since I had been nude for over an hour with them as my audience. Maybe Mark thought it was inappropriate since I was his student.

  When they were finished, and our friend was safe and secure in the trunk, along with the supplies, we all went over the area again to make absolutely sure nothing appeared to have happened there—sure, there was lots of blood, especially after the guys had retrieved the arrows, but this was wilderness and by the slim chance someone came by the next day the assumption would be it was some unfortunate animal’s place of death.

  When finished we all communicated in a hushed manner—almost like we were not wanting the guy in the trunk to hear what we were discussing regarding his disposal. We all got in the car and left—still speaking in whispers—but once back on the main road we went back to our regular selves. We still had the concern of being stopped for some reas
on. I also wondered if any blood might be left in the car after we got rid of the bag and its contents. Daniel soon began to explain that the sleeping bag was something he found in a donation box the year before, and while it had been thrown away it was in excellent shape, and the material would hold up, even in the cold, wet depths of the Columbia, at least long enough for the contents to have disintegrated. They also had first wrapped the body in plastic so no blood would seep through the bag and leave stains in the trunk. The place we were heading would also have ample rocks to weigh down the contents.

  Nicole was now acting like an excited schoolgirl (I suppose she was technically that) and asked me all about my feelings about the events that evening. She was especially intrigued about my castration band idea, she was such a sadist. I explained that since he had been so devoted to de-masculinising his victim it seemed appropriate in so many ways. It was symbolic, and that was the source of the idea. In a way she seemed a bit let down by my explanation, maybe wanting something much deeper and relating to some gender issue, but still she was smiling and leaning over to get every detail. In a way our connection had grown through these events, I felt quite close to her. When she started talking with Daniel I just stared out the window and analyzed our growing kinship, perhaps even smiling in a content, happy manner—and wondering, well wondering what shape our friendship, as well as our group’s bond, would take as time went on.

  We all got out when we arrived at the spot by the river. It was odd in a way that it was not a secluded area, it was just off the main road, so Mark and Daniel quickly loaded the bag with rocks and, for some reason a large flashlight. They moved the body quickly to the edge of a rock overhang and swung it a few times until finally heaving it far out into the murky depths. I had wondered about the flashlight until I noticed the light glowing through the bag grew dimmer and then disappeared, indicating that the bag had rapidly sunk into the water as it should have, never to be seen by human eyes again.