Mind Hemorrhages: Dark Tales of Misery and Imagination

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Mind Hemorrhages: Dark Tales of Misery and Imagination Page 15

by Dane Hatchell


  “Yes. Come along with your point.”

  “There is gold throughout. Bring me candle holder, a figurine, anything made of gold in exchange for the mushroom.”

  “There is no time for that. It must be tomorrow. I do not know how to explain it, but I cannot rest until I free the Princess. When we touched, a part of me left and went to be with her. I long to reunite and feel whole again. I can never be the same without the Princess constantly at my side.”

  The crone exhaled in disappointment. “I have given you my terms. The choice is for you to take or not. Comply or be gone. I have given you enough of my time.” The crone withdrew her hands into her robe and folded her arms across her chest.

  Aldwin tensed every muscle in his body as rage contorted his face. Unleashing a fierce cry, he grabbed the table and slung it aside. Before the crone could make an escape, Aldwin had her pinned to the ground under his knees—his hands around her throat. His teeth clenched tightly as a low growl ushered under his breath and spittle dripped from his lips.

  The crone’s hood had pulled away, and moonlight shone in from a hole on the roof for him to see the frozen terror on her face. She made a futile effort to pull at his arms but was no match for a young man driven by love. Her body started to violently shake—nearly bucking him off her chest. He managed to dig his thumbs even deeper into her throat until small bones gave way and crunched.

  The crone abruptly went still. Aldwin remained holding the death grip until numbness in his hands gave him pause to relax. She was dead. The consequences be damned. The Princess was in her prison waiting for rescue. He would be allowed only one chance to fail.

  The candle had gone out when it fell from the table. Aldwin searched blindly along the floor with his hands until he found the pouch. He grabbed it and carefully made his way through the dark room. Once out the door, he was determined nothing would stand in his way to save the Princess. Nothing.

  *

  Aldwin hid in the brush and watched the old servant leave a basket of food before the ogre. She turned and briskly walked away, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders.

  For Aldwin to succeed he would need the element of surprise to work in his favor. He pulled the cuffs of his gloves up his arms as far as possible and lifted the kerchief hanging under his chin over his nose.

  The ogre retrieved the basket watching the woman leave. He then removed a key from his pocket and turned to the cottage.

  The old woman’s eyes widen in surprise as Aldwin sprang from the bushes and dashed at her. She threw her arms up as if expecting an attack and cowered. He ran past, clutching the mushroom gingerly in hand.

  Aldwin’s heart pounded in his chest, and his single-minded determination blocked any fear of the monstrous creature before him. The ogre had unlocked the door and was in the process of setting the basket inside the cottage when Aldwin’s fast steps called attention.

  The ogre spun around and held the battle axe high in the air with just one hand. “Stop!”

  Aldwin reared his arm back and aimed true. The projectile hurtled toward the prison keeper. Time slowed as the mushroom, as large as an apple, wobbled the distance until it smashed into the ogre’s chest.

  A cloud of dust engulfed the ogre’s face. Aldwin skidded to a halt and pulled off the gloves.

  The prison keeper’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes began to roll as if unable to focus. After a single cough his body swayed and dropped like a large timber felled by a woodsman’s axe.

  The dagger came from Aldwin’s side as he leapt on the ogre. He lifted the blade, and plunged it into the brute’s chest, in frenzied madness. Blood pooled under the clothing and splattered everywhere. The ogre made no sound at all. Only the dead-plunk of the dagger and Aldwin’s labored breathing interrupted the songs of mating birds and the breeze rattling the leaves of the mighty trees.

  The ogre was dead. Aldwin left the knife sticking in his chest where he estimated his heart to be. He looked at his bloodstained hand and wiped it in the grass before rising to his feet. A quick look around gave him confidence in his plan. Two horses loaded with supplies waited nearby in the woods ready to ferry him and his bride-to-be to a new life.

  The door to the cottage was halfway opened. The food basket remained in the doorway. There was no sign of his beloved Princess. Where was she? A flood of a hundred fears for her safety had him rushing into the cottage.

  The door slammed shut with a finality that sent cold fear down Aldwin’s back. The room was dark save for a small square of light shining on the floor from the window. “Princess? I have come to rescue you.”

  “I am here,” a soft voice said from his side.

  The gentle caress of her touch moved across the back of his hand.

  She pulled him to her and kissed him deeply with an open mouth.

  Her taste was an alluring mixture of sweetness and strong spirits. The scent of her hair an intoxicating fragrance of lavender. He put his hands on her bare back and held her shoulders.

  “My Princess, you are naked. Where are your clothes? We must be on our way.”

  “I’ve waited so long for this moment. Come, let us join as one.”

  “But we must leave now and make distance before you are discovered missing. In my haste to free you I revealed myself to the servant bringing food. She could expose our plan by reporting me to the authorities.”

  The Princess drew his face forward and began to lick his lips. Methodically, in a rhythm that teased and titillated. She covered his mouth with wide, wet kisses as she pulled at his clothing.

  Aldwin was lost in the magic of her passion and began to strip off his shirt and pants. His pulse pounded in his head, and his manhood hardened to rival granite.

  “I want you to take me from behind,” the Princess said as she pulled away from his naked body and leaned against the wall.

  As Aldwin neared, she grabbed him by his cock and maneuvered it deep inside. He felt warm, wet ecstasy down the length of his shaft. Her moans of delight further stoked the fires of the unbridled lust building inside and blanked out any other thought than the blissful union of their bodies.

  He kissed the back of the Princess’s neck and held his hands on her hips as his thrusts became more forceful. Aldwin was young and his times with a woman had been few, but none of his experiences had ever been like this. Perhaps this was a passion equal to what the romantics wrote of. Perhaps their love had been sanctioned by God and history would remember them with fondness more than Romeo and Juliette. She was a Princess by birth. What if they laid in wait for the Queen’s death and returned to claim the kingdom at her death?

  The Princess’s moans had quickened. Aldwin lifted his hand and caressed her breast. They were small in size, unusually firm. No matter, she had responded with delight at the touch. He slowly brought his hand down her side, over her hip, and onto her thigh. He was near the point of release as he believed was she. He moved his hand over to touch the flower of her womanhood.

  Aldwin let out a gasp as her back morphed into a hard, scaly mass. His fingers touched a scrotum at the base of a phallus. “What is this?” He went to pull away as tentacles wrapped around his back and legs, securing him tightly still inside the Princess.

  Something not of this world shrieked with laughter as Aldwin erupted in orgasm. He screamed as his mind filled with visions of fiery pits of molten lava and snakes crawling over his body.

  The tentacles released its hold and sprawled him face down on the floor. Laughter mixed with the growl of a salivating animal echoed in his head. The Princess mounted his backside and buggered him mercilessly. Aldwin was powerless to break the inhuman hold, and could do nothing but cry out against the savage violation. He screamed until his mind went black.

  *

  When Aldwin awoke, he saw the silhouette of the Princess standing before the window, human once again. Pain ran all though his backside and felt wet with what he imagined was blood. The door was just a few feet away, but he was unsure if he could
muster enough energy for an escape. His chances were grim. His choices few.

  He composed himself to the ready and held his breath. In one swift motion, he pulled himself from the floor and stumbled out the dark cottage into the bright of day.

  The ogre’s dead body lay in his path. Aldwin tripped and rolled to his back. The sun shined brightly overhead, and he held out his hand to shield the blinding rays.

  A horse snorted nearby. He turned his gaze toward the sound and saw three steady steeds mounted by knights of the royal crown.

  “Help me. Please.” Aldwin’s throat was sore from earlier screams. A strange burning weaved its way throughout his body.

  One knight turned his head to the others and smirked. He then looked down on Aldwin. “Fool. You pathetic, ignorant, fool.”

  “Good sirs. You must help me. That is no Princess in the cottage. It is a demon. A spawn of the Devil himself. You must kill it.”

  “I have no authority to kill the progeny of the Queen. Besides, the thing cannot escape the spell surrounding its prison.”

  “But it is not human. It is disguised as a woman. What deceit is perpetrated on the good people of the kingdom?”

  “The King’s curse brought his death and was passed down to his unborn daughter. The Queen could ill afford the monstrosity from usurping the kingdom.”

  “The kingdom would be better served to feed the vile thing to the ogre instead of wasting his time protecting it. I am forever ruined.”

  “You fail to understand. The ogre did not stand guard to protect the Princess. His duty was to protect others from her. The Queen loves her daughter and has been searching for a means to remove the curse these many years.”

  Aldwin cried out in pain. “I need a Healer. My body aches and burns with the demon’s venom.”

  “The pain will soon pass, but the scar of your disobedience will haunt you till the end of your days.”

  Aldwin’s body began to shake. His knuckles swelled as large as walnuts, and he began to convulse. The rest of his body transformed into the visage of the dead ogre beside him.

  “You are now given the command to keep others from falling victim to the Princess. Take up the axe and serve the Queen. So is shall it be from this day forth.” The knight stayed until Aldwin’s body went limp.

  The Princess stood by the door’s threshold with pleading eyes and pouting lips.

  Aldwin the ogre slowly rose to his feet and pushed the door shut without succumbing to her wiles. The dull thud of wood against stone chimed hollow, and a twist of the key turned the lock symbolizing the end of his old way of life.

  He strode several meters from the cottage with axe in hand, forever on guard to save the next poor unsuspecting soul from the folly of their lust

  The End

  .

  Time and Tide

  “I saw her again, Mommy.” Mikey stood next to the imitation leather couch where his mother, Estelle, slept. “Mommy, I saw the girl again.” His almond shaped eyes stared at her through coke bottle glasses.

  “Mmmphh . . .” Estelle twitched. The smell of vodka and body odor hovered in her personal space.

  “She was by the water and I saw her and I told her to wait and I ran to her but she was gone before I could get there.” Mikey recounted the story in exact detail. He grabbed her shoulder and shook it a few times.

  “Mikey . . . child . . . it's not even noon. Why’re you bothering your momma?” Estelle rolled from her side and faced him. The faux leather grain pattern marked her cheek and a cushion seam left a line down the side of her face.

  He smiled, now having her attention, and adjusted his glasses on his flat nasal bridge. "Why does she go ’way?” His smooth round face and perpetually opened mouth reflected a constant state of confusion. For a twenty-two year old with an IQ of 50, he was accustomed to receive unsatisfactory answers to most of his questions.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s no girl on the beach. Real girls don't appear and disappear out of thin air. It's probably just a manatee playing by the shore or the sun making a mirage on the water.” Estelle furrowed her brow and placed the palm of her hand on her forehead. She then reached for a glass on the coffee table that contained a small amount of clear liquid and gulped it down.

  “No, she walks on the beach. Manatee's just swim in the water. They don't have legs and walk and don't look pretty like her,” Mikey said.

  “Whatever . . . whatever. Hey, where’re you running off to?” she asked as he skipped to the back door.

  “I ate me a peanut butter sandwich and put on my sunscream and my hat and shoes are outside and I'm going to walk the beach— bye-bye.”

  The wooden screen door banged closed. She winced in pain and put a couch cushion over her face.

  Mikey carried a bag of carrots and left the weathering old beach house behind. He made long steps on short legs toward the sandy beach of Crystal River, Florida, not more than a hundred yards away.

  The house had belonged to Estelle's Father who had earned his living as a fisherman for most of the sixty years of his life. Her Father had left her the house and a small amount of savings when he died that supplemented the income from government assistance for her and Mikey to live on. The property was worth much more than the dilapidated sun-cracked house. But she had lived there all her life and never once considered selling it and moving into town.

  Mikey loved everything about the beach. The waves crashing on the shore were a serenade to his small ears and deposited a variety of treasures from the ocean on the white sands. Sometimes he would find whole sand dollars near the water’s edge. He would shake-shake-shake them to hear it rattle. His Mother had said that was the sound that the dice made when the Romans gambled for the robe of Jesus after he died. He knew that there weren’t any dice inside, because he broke one open to check. Instead of dice, he found five tiny little ‘doves.’ He was fascinated by the little dove shaped calcium and had over a hundred doves glued to a sheet of cardboard in his room that he had collected.

  “Hey, big guy . . . yeah you. Watch where you're walking,” a tiny sand crab called up from below.

  “I'm sorry,” Mikey said gazing down. “I was just trying to find some shells and didn’t see you.”

  “Yeah, well, I spent a lotta time digging out that hole. So, go around. Got it?”

  “Okay.” Mikey didn't like the tone the sand crab used with him. After trotting a few steps out of the way, he turned, and asked, “Hey, do you want me to dig a hole for you? I can dig a big, deep hole if you want.”

  The sand crab flicked another load of sand out of his humble abode and waved Mikey on.

  It's just not fair, Mikey thought, as he avoided the waves crashing ashore. Everything seemed to have a purpose in life, except him. Mr. Sand crab was always working on his house, and there was no one telling him what to do. Mikey's mommy was always questioning and correcting him. He never seemed to make her happy.

  He wanted to live life on his own and wanted lots of friends. But people didn't like to talk to him very much. They would avoid him or make excuses why they couldn’t stay and talk. Sometimes they would talk slow or raise their voices. Mikey didn't like it when they did that. There was nothing wrong with his hearing. He just couldn’t understand what all their words meant.

  Even the sea creatures and birds didn't treat Mikey very well. They were always busy-busy doing what they do. The only time they really paid attention to him was when he was eating. They would pest him until he ate all the food or until he gave them some. After it was all gone, they just wanted to be left alone and ignored him. None would have a meaningful conversation with him. No one that is, except for Mr. Manatee.

  Mikey’s big dream was to be the captain of a Pirate ship. He wanted to sail the world in search of gold and other treasures, like in the stories his Mommy would read to him. He wanted a parrot too, but he didn't want to have a peg leg.

  Mostly, he wanted to love and be loved. Not like the love he felt for his mother,
but the kind of love that only a Princess could give. Mikey had never kissed a girl. He had never even found a girl that wanted to hold hands.

  He longed for the young woman that would mysteriously appear and disappear on the beach to fall in love with him. She was tall and thin, and had long brown hair that draped down to her waist. She walked with such grace on the uneven beach that he knew she had to be a Princess. But he never could catch up to her. He never had the chance to ask her name. If he ever got the chance, he would give her his cardboard with the collection of a hundred sand dollar doves pasted on it.

  Mikey finally reached the old pier that was all that was left from an ancient beachside motel. His mom had warned him to stay off the pier. She was afraid he might fall off and drown. He wasn’t afraid. He could tread water with the best of dog-paddlers. Still, he did feel safer swimming in a pool or in shallow waters by the beach.

  The pier was twelve feet wide and protruded some thirty feet into the Gulf. At high tide, it still kept fisherman four feet above the water. The swollen wood grain on the graying boards made for a precarious trek. Nail heads popped up here and there, and the wood splinted easily when it came in contact with soft flesh.

  Mikey made it to the end of the pier, turned, and looked back at the beach. Not another soul was in sight save for the gulls pecking at tasty morsels by the shore.

  “I'm over here, Mikey.” The familiar voice of his friend called from the water.

  Mikey spun around, somewhat startled. “I was looking for you, Mr. Manatee, but I didn’t see you. I brought you some carrots.” He opened the bag and emptied it over the side of the pier.

  The 900-hundred-pound gentle creature used its powerful tail to lift the top half of his body above water. His back was scarred with random slices and gouges from irreverent boaters that sped in the protected waters. He used his front flippers and shoved the crispy carrots past his prehensile lips to the molars in the back of his mouth.

 

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