Coffin Island

by Will Berkeley

  “She is spurting buckets of blood,” I said.

  “I hadn’t noticed that,” Professor Coffin said. “That’s a very good sign.”

  “She is a fountain of blood,” Madison said. “How could you not notice that?”

  “Love blinds me,” Professor Coffin said.

  “What do you want?” I demanded of The Red Lady.

  A bleeding person doesn’t just walk into a story without some sort of higher purpose. It’s like that gun that must go off. Perhaps the creature below deck had a handgun with a silencer. I’d like to get my hands on that. Bust a few caps.

  “Are you behind all of this?” Madison asked.

  “It’s either The Red Lady or Professor Coffin,” I agreed.

  “It isn’t you or me,” Madison snorted.

  “I’m suspicious of you,” I said.

  “You’re a candidate in my mind too,” Madison said.

  “Seeing as we’re the test subjects,” I laughed.

  “My money is on Professor Coffin,” I said.

  “Me too,” Madison said.

  “What do you have to say for yourself, madam?” Professor Coffin demanded. “Are you the treacherous villain in this tale of trickery and jokes?”

  “A flood of blood is coming out of me,” The Red Lady shouted. “Where is all the extra blood coming from?”

  “That’s your victim’s blood,” Professor Coffin said. “It’s nothing to be alarmed about.”

  “Murderous pirates spew their victim’s blood when they are in human form?” Madison gasped.

  “The Black Death,” Professor Coffin confirmed.

  “I thought that was a plague caused by marmots,” I said.

  “It’s has elements of that too,” Professor Coffin said.

  “I’m glad that it’s not serious,” The Red Lady said and grinned a jack-o-lantern of blood. Happy Halloween, there it was again. What to make of a mind like this? It should be removed for safe keeping. We just pluck it out and put it in an autopsy jar with plenty of formaldehyde. Whoever was controlling this costume drama should be shot.

  The Red Lady was looking like a pretty good candidate for the coroner’s table. Her bleeding was horrific. Her bleeding was so over-the-top that it called itself into question. How can a person bleed that much? They can’t. The Red Lady wasn’t a person. She was some sort of character in the test.

  Madison was greedily looking at her too. I could tell that she was having the same dark thoughts. Why don’t we kill the candidate after the interview? Thank for coming in for the position. What we were looking for was a murder victim. I know what the advertisement said because I wrote it. I’m just giving you the decency of telling you what the real position is before you assume it. Don’t worry about the typing test because I’m going to cut your hands off. You’re not real.

  That was the general vibe of the situation. Madison and I were getting seriously ticked off about our examination. The static nature of the test was particularly infuriating. Hurry up and get this test over. Why torture us thus? You want to do that whole test of wills here? You aren’t breaking us in a world of glass. Forget about it. We’ll break you then this world too. Feed you the broken glass. Help you chew it too. That’s probably not the response that the examiner was looking for. Witchcraft wasn’t the only vehicle capable of backfire.

  “I was getting concerned for a moment there while I was cowering in the keel of Doctor Fast,” The Red Lady whimpered. “Hurling buckets of blood. It seems to be slowing down now to mere galloons.”

  “Perfectly normal for an old murderous hag like you,” Professor Coffin winked. “Enjoy it while it lasts, you old chippie.”

  “What’s going to happen to me next?” The Red Lady gasped.

  “We’ll get to that in Part III,” Professor Coffin winked.

  “Sit tight,” I suggested.

  “This world wants us to sit for our examination,” Madison said. “It’ll get it too because now I’m refusing to move.”

  “Trench warfare,” I agreed.

  “I enjoy trench foot,” Professor Coffin said.

  “What about me?” The Red Lady shouted.

  “Put a sock in it,” I suggested.

  “Why didn’t I get The Black Death?” Madison asked. “I killed a lot. Shouldn’t I be spewing buckets of blood?”

  “You want to spew buckets of blood?” I asked.

  “Absolutely not,” Madison said.

  “Witchcraft,” I shrugged.

  The Red Lady was pouring blood off to the side but we didn’t care.

  “Madison ducked the magical musket ball for now,” Professor Coffin confirmed. “It happens to us especially when we are courting it to hit us.”

  “What a close shave,” Madison said. “For once I am thankful that witchcraft is so unreliable.”

  “A magical cannonball will hit you later, my dear,” Professor Coffin said.

  “Witchcraft calls in all its bets,” I said.

  “It’s hunkering down right now,” Professor Coffin confirmed.

  “Gathering its strength like a volcano,” I said.

  “Somebody better shoot me if that happens to me,” Madison said.

  “We don’t have any firearms yet,” I said.

  “We could always set you on fire,” Professor Coffin suggested.

  “Or throw you in the bubbling rum,” I said.

  “Just do the right thing when the time comes,” Madison suggested. “I trust your poor judgment.”

  “It’s nice to see such friendly faces,” The Red Lady gnashed her bloody teeth at us like a wolverine with its head stuck in a bear trap. The hunter clad in his kills stomping on the jaw of the trap to procure his latest hat. Why not get that furrier visual?

  “I can’t believe how much blood is pouring out of you,” I said.

  “It suits you,” Madison said.

  “It highlights your hooks,” Professor Coffin said.

  “The blood cascading down your chest like a waterfall,” I said. “Makes you look a hundred years younger.”

  “Quite the tourist attraction for the fairy vampires, you old cow,” Professor Coffin said.

  Chapter

  “Maybe a troupe of fairy vampires will come swarming out of the hinterlands,” I said.

  “Attack themselves to your face like a beard of hornets,” Madison said.

  “This isn’t a very charitable reception,” The Red Lady said while spurting buckets of blood.

  “You expect a charitable reception from us just because you’re pouring buckets of blood?” Madison asked.

  “It does seem like a valid excuse,” The Red Lady said.

  “You stowed away on Doctor Fast to kill us,” Madison said.

  “We don’t care that you’re pouring blood,” I said.

  “We’re disappointed that it’s not killing you,” Madison said.

  “I’m not guilty of anything,” The Red Lady shouted.

  “How do you figure that?” I asked.

  “It was Professor Coffin’s plan to kill you,” The Red Lady said.

  “I beg your pardon, you trollop,” Professor Coffin bellowed.

  “I was just going to execute it,” The Red Lady said. “How can you blame me for attempting to kill you?”

  “Don’t kill the messenger even if the messenger is trying to kill you?” Madison asked.

  “You have to go up the chain of command,” The Red Lady said.

  “That’s not the issue,” I said.

  “We’re taking issue with your incompetence,” Madison said.

  “You teased us with death, madam,” Professor Coffin said. “What do you have to say for yourself, you old tart?”

  “Why don’t we all forget about it?” The Red Lady asked. “Seeing as I didn’t succeed. How can you hold it against me?”

  “What’s a murder plot between friends?” Madison asked.

  “You’re a murderess yourself,” The Red Lady snarled.

  “Don’t get haughty with me,” M
adison said. “I’ve murdered tougher broads than you.”

  “We’re all guilty here until proven not innocent,” Professor Coffin said.

  “Let’s place the blame on somebody else,” The Red Lady suggested.

  “It is certainly not my fault,” Madison said. “Because if it were my murder plot. I would have executed it beautifully. You’d be dead.”

  “Only a fool could argue with that,” I said. “Madison gets off.”

  “Good luck pinning this murder plot on me,” Professor Coffin grinned. “I just came up with the idea. It’s not my fault that it took on a life of its own.”

  “The witchcraft defense,” Madison shrugged. “I’ll buy that.”

  “It’s sort of my fault,” I said. “I suppose.”

  “You pulled the short straw, Booster,” Madison said. “You’re the last man standing in the land of witchcraft.”

  “He has the height,” Professor Coffin agreed. “Always convict the tallest man in the room.”

  “You let me stow away, Headmaster Booster,” The Red Lady shouted. “You watched me climb aboard Doctor Fast. I knew this wasn’t my fault. You’re guilty of letting me be me.”

  “You let this murderous old hag climb aboard Doctor Fast?” Madison practically shouted. “She could actually kill us now that we have no powers.”

  “You can’t fault The Headmaster for permitting you your faults,” Professor Coffin said evenly.

  “The Headmaster is too consumed with his own faults to notice anyone else’s,” Madison said.

  “I hadn’t considered that distraction but it’s still The Red Lady’s fault,” Professor Coffin said firmly.

  “How is it my fault?” The Red Lady demanded.

  “You failed to kill us, madam,” Professor Coffin said.

  “How do you propose to rectify that?” I asked.

  “I don’t think that I can kill anyone until this blood stops,” The Red Lady said.

  “Dereliction of duty, heretic,” Professor Coffin said.

  “I’m gushing buckets of blood,” The Red Lady cried.

  “What do you think of the blood?” I asked.

  “Don’t hold back,” Madison said.

  “Speak plainly, harlot,” Professor Coffin said.

  “It should be yours,” The Red Lady snarled.

  “She shows no remorse,” Professor Coffin said.

  “I’m not sure how to view this,” I said.

  “It’s how she views it,” Madison said.

  “Penny for your thought, strumpet,” Professor Coffin said.

  “I don’t care that it’s happening,” The Red Lady said. “I just want it to stop because it’s annoying.”

  “What are you going to do when it stops?” Madison asked.

  “I’m going to kill all of you,” The Red Lady said. “You’ve infuriated me.”

  “You can’t straighten out the hunchback of Notre Dame,” Professor Coffin said.

  “Otherwise he wouldn’t be a hunchback,” Madison snapped.

  “He’d be the hatchback of Notre Dame,” Professor Coffin confirmed.

  “We’re going to have to do something about this,” I said.

  “This is quite the little problem,” Professor Coffin agreed.

  “You’ve got a big problem on your hands,” The Red Lady snarled.

  “I tend to agree,” I said.

  “Are you saying that we should kill her before she tries to kill us?” Madison asked.

  “It’s real death here,” I said.

  “I’m not going to disagree,” The Red Lady said.

  “You watch how this viper behaves,” Professor Coffin said.

  “She is going to reach for our throats any second,” Madison said.

  “I certainly hope so,” Professor Coffin said. “I’ve been trying to get her to touch my hyoid bone for four centuries.”

  “I already told you that I can’t kill anyone until this blood stops,” The Red Lady snapped. “The blood has some sort of power over me. Then I’m ripping out your voice boxes.”

  “She seems to be slowing down on the blood,” I said.

  “Her pallid color is returning,” Professor Coffin said. “That rosy flesh was beginning to concern me.”

  “I think we should kill her now before she gets any whiter,” Madison said.

  “Bleeds down to empty,” I said.

  “Only a fool would disagree with this murder plot,” Professor Coffin said.

  “You’re the fool that thought of this entire idea,” Madison said.

  “You can’t put a man’s hand to the flame of his delusional thinking,” Professor Coffin said.

  “We wouldn’t want to ruin the insanity defense?” Madison asked.

  “Why go mad if you can’t acquit yourself?” Professor Coffin asked.

  “It appears that The Red Lady is done spurting blood,” I said.

  “It wasn’t much of a punishment for murder,” Madison said. “I’m happy about that.”

  “Witchcraft has got a cold heart,” I agreed.

  “That’s why they call it witchcraft,” Professor Coffin confirmed.

  “A dead old broad is at the heart of it,” Madison snorted.

  “You didn’t go through it,” The Red Lady snapped.

  “Murder is a misdemeanor in this world,” Professor Coffin said. “Watch it with the traffic violations.”

  “I’m still standing here,” The Red Lady shouted. “What do you have to say about that? Do you have any last words?”

  Chapter

  “This is quite the conundrum,” Professor Coffin mused. “We’ve got a bloodless hitch on our hands.”

  “What’s a human witch without any blood?” I asked.

  “A zombie witch,” Professor Coffin said coolly.

  “A womb,” Madison shrugged.

  “It’s between births,” Professor Coffin confirmed.

  “I’m going back into the shipwreck for my cutlass,” The Red Lady said. “Then I’m going to cut out your gallbladder and throw it to the sharks.”

  “Quite the visual,” I said.

  “You’ll loose that cheek when I cut off your cheeks,” The Red Lady snarled.

  “You’re starting to get my attention,” I said.

  “Your headless torso will be my toilet,” The Red Lady snarled.

  “You’ve got my full attention now,” I said.

  “Stop threatening us,” Madison challenged. “And feed us our livers.”

  The Red Lady screamed in frustration. She climbed back into the shipwreck. She went through a hole in the side of the hull to get below deck for her overworked cutlass. The buzzard was rummaging around in the keel by the sounds of it with whatever creature was in there.

  “Having trouble finding our cutlass, my dear?” Professor Coffin asked.

  “Don’t worry,” The Red Lady shouted. “I’ll find it. Then cut out your colon. And pull it over your head.”

  “A lot of hungry sharks out there,” Madison said.

  “Why not feed them the duodenum as an appetizer?” I asked.

  “Your heart is coming out first, Booster,” The Red Lady shouted.

  “That’s an organ that I can’t do without,” I said.

  “How do we get this murderess out of our van dykes,” Professor Coffin growled and tugged upon his stinky beard.

  Professor Coffin was taking it upon himself to answer the question. He was feeding wet rope into the holes of the shipwreck. He was peppering it with glass boulders from the shore. Was this supposed to be our lesson at The Crypt Island School for Witches? Don’t take a murderess on your ship? Professor Coffin was actively trying to save us. What to make of that?

  I was thinking that the lesson here was that Professor Coffin was running our test. The Red Lady was some element that had failed to test us properly. Or she was just a lose end that had gone off on her own warpath. Perhaps she was supposed to kill us to prevent us from getting to the next world. However why would Professor Coffin attempt to st
op that? Maybe he wasn’t running the test. Or he had gone haywire too. Perhaps the very test itself had gone haywire. Witchcraft had taken over.

  However there were more pressing concerns such as the serial killer that had just gone active again. How do you herd a mass murderer? Bring her back into the fold of civilized society without shedding blood. Some critics might speculate that it couldn’t be done. I was among their ranks. Wouldn’t it just be simpler to kill her?

  “Why die peacefully when you can make a big public bloodbath in front of your intended murder victims?” Madison asked while helping Professor Coffin with the rope and the glass boulders. “And then attempt to kill them again?”

  “Become a zombie of all things?” I asked while loading glass boulders into the portholes.

  “We need a burlap bag for this aged cat,” Professor Coffin said.

  “Hurl her into the emerald ocean and let witchcraft sort it out,” I said.

  “It’s done a marvelous job thus far,” Madison laughed.

  “That zombie is monstrous,” Professor Coffin said while tamping down the glass boulders. “But she is very attractive to me for reasons that mystify even me.”

  “You want to date a zombie,” I said.

  “A witch zombie,” Madison said. “He wants to date a womb.”

  “My love for that womb is undying,” Professor Coffin grinned.

  “What better arm candy could you find for this town,” I said.

  “You should climb in there with her,” Madison suggested.

  “There is the practical problem that she wants to kill me,” Professor Coffin said. “It prevents a proper courtship.”

  “I want to kill you all,” The Red Lady shouted from inside the hull of the shipwreck. She was pounding on it to get out. “Let me out so I can kill you.”

  “You’re staying in there until we figure out how to cage you on a permanent basis,” I said.

  “What’s a school without a few violent bullies?” Professor Coffin asked.

  “I’m looking forward to dissecting her in science class,” Madison said.

  “Nail her to a board like a frog,” Professor Coffin suggested. “Spread her legs a bit.”

  “I wouldn’t be standing on that glass shoreline when I hack my way out of this shipwreck with my cutlass,” The Red Lady shouted.