Here is my revision of my Bat Man story! I hope you enjoy it, I took a creepy twist and I would LOVE to get some feed back!
Bat Man
Anna Rohaly
I
have an unusual hunger for bats these days. I hear them through the
walls and my mouth waters to taste their flesh. I want the furry
bodies, warm beating hearts, thin leathery wings to be sizzling on my
stove top. The craving comes with such a sudden need and intensity
that for a moment I stand on Mosquito Coast, stranded again by the
ocean.
~*~
I
remember the wind blowing in my hair as I stood in the bow of the
ship. My six shipmates and I were tossed on the ocean as we sailed
down the coast of Latin America harvesting fish, the silver creatures
of the sea. Eight years earlier, we voyaged out towards the end of
the hurricane season. Unfortunately, we left too soon. We tried to
ride out the hurricane as the sea turned gray, like churning ash
beneath our helm. We were pounded all day by the roaring waters. I
saw it coming, the rock that ended our voyage. Off the Mosquito Coast
our small metal ship was lifted high on the rolling, rushing waves,
so high that my head became light as we smashed down into the razor
rocks. There was a ripping of metal as we tore into the rock followed
by silence as I flew, arms and legs splayed out like a corpse, into
the frigid ocean waters. I was only saved because I was on the deck,
trying to get a survival kit and life jacket to the captain as he
wrestled to keep his ship afloat. I expected death in the waters, but
my captains life jacket helped keep me up as the waves push me
towards shore. I might as well have died, so terrible did my fate
become.
Mosquito
Coast is one of the most desolate and uncivilized areas in the world
and I soon began to experience its terrors. Deep down, I knew it was
my punishment for living. If I had been injured at all, I would not
have been able to survive so harsh was the land. I knew nothing of
the plant life and nothing of the animals that lived there. I waded
into the jungle only far enough to find vines and branches that I
could turn into a net. I twisted and wove, tangled and whittled,
until a rough and primitive net lay over my knee. I found a small
stream flowing into the ocean's salty mass, and set up my net to
capture any fish that might get snared there. I caught very little.
Weeks
flew past, I lost much weight and needed a vine to keep my pants up.
I carried the survival kit everywhere containing a small knife, a
compass, a waterproof tin of matches, a flashlight, and a flare gun.
After two months, I was barely able to stand. Pushing back further
through the green rain forest and muggy wall of air, I started
looking for fruit and vegetation that might be familiar. Nothing. My
stomach was clinched with hunger and my vision blurred as I staggered
into tall bamboo trees. I tripped on a vine, my chest rose raggedly
as I drew shaking breaths. I glanced off to my right and saw the cave
for the first time. I dragged myself over to the opening.
The
air that rushed out was crisp and cool. It breathed life into me and
I felt energy slip into my veins. I pulled out my flashlight. Feeling
like a snake, I slithered on my belly inside. The ground of the cave
was littered with stones, leaves, and branches probably blown in by
the same hurricane that had drowned my crew. The branches and leaves
were dry and crunched beneath me. I shone my flashlight around the
cave. The circle of yellow light hit the low ceiling and I set eyes
on my salvation and damnation. Bats hung in droves from the ceiling.
I would eat soon.
I
struggled to my feet and reached up in the dark to the hanging furry
bodies. I grabbed a bats and swung it down, bashing its head against
a rock. As I swung it towards death, it let out a loud screech that
shivered off the walls. The darkness exploded into a cloud of
leathery wings and sharp claws. I dropped the flashlight as the teeth
and claws engulfed me. I groped the dark and caught two more furry
creatures, killing them with one hand, using my other hand to clear
the little devils from circling my head. Suddenly the air cleared and
they were gone. I fell to my knees and reached out with my hands for
my survival kit and flashlight, both concealed in the blackness. I
found my flashlight first and used the beam of light to find the
three little carcases I had dropped to the ground. Stacking them next
to a large rock, I crawled across the ground, grabbing any branches
and leaves that my trembling hands could reach. Piling them up I
pulled out my matches. Smoke puffed out into the beam of my
flashlight as flame sparked to life. I dropped the match onto my pile
of sticks and branches, letting the flames grow. Finding a long
stick, I used it to skewer the bats. Holding the branch out over the
flames, I watched as the splayed wings began to crackle and the fur
melted onto the delicate little bodies. The entire cave was filled
with the incense of burnt fur.
The
bats were finally cooked a little. I snapped the wings off the bodies
and ate them, remembering the bowls of chips and salsa I had eaten in
the past. I ate the bats organs and all, tearing aside the burnt fur
to suck the dripping fat and blood left in the meat. I tore through
the meal and wished for more. I put the skeletal remains by a rock
and lay down to sleep.
When
I woke, I rose and walked to the entrance of the cave with my
flashlight and survival kit. Getting out into the fading light of
evening, I looked down and realized that my hands were covered with
blood and small, fine cuts. They seemed blackened and leathery. Two
little teeth marks stood out on the pale skin of my wrist, showing
where one of the bats had sunk his teeth into the vein.
“Hopefully
I ate that one,” I muttered, as I gingerly touched the smarting
sore. Either way, I knew that the next day I would go back for more.
Weeks and months followed. My diet became more and more dominated by
bats. I tried testing fruits and foliage, but never ate more then a
few leaves. My skeletal form began to fade or maybe I just became
more adjusted to seeing the angles of my bones just as I became used
to eating the bats. At first, I tried to stay away from the cave
unless I was near to starving, for fear that I might chase the bats
away. But in my need, it became easier and easier to kill them and
eat them. One day, I was stashing my survival kit behind a rock on
shore when I heard a screech and blacked out. Suddenly I found myself
in the dark, surrounded by a living cloud of wings, teeth, and claws.
I never looked back. Eventually I started just catching them,
bringing them live and squirming to my mouth, and ripping their heads
off with my teeth. I savored the taste of their blood and mine
mingling in my mouth as I sucked the blood from the bites I received.
I
started sleeping on the floor of the cave. Whenever I awoke it was
dark outside and the moonlight was creeping over the cave floor. I
also began hunting in the night with the bats, learning to swing from
trees, finding fruits and killing monkeys and birds asleep in the
branches. When dawn broke I crawled into the cave, allowing my
claw-like fingernails to pull me over the leaves and dirt to the
cool, dark, and refreshing cave.
One
day though, after this had been happening for a long time, I had a
dream. There was a woman with black hair and green eyes. She was
looking at me and seeing me. She was talking to me. She smiled and
something changed in me. I felt I was human again. I blinked open my
eyes and found that it was light outside. Wandering out of the cave,
I walked towards the beach. I felt stiff and sore, realizing that
this was the first time in days that I had stood up straight. My head
seemed clouded with a thick fog, built up from years of isolation. As
I reached the shore, I saw something out on the horizon, a speck in
the distance. As I watched, it came closer, grew larger, until the
outline of a ship looked like a small bug on the skyline. Something
in me snapped into place and I ran to the rock where I had stored my
survival kit. Pulling it out, I saw that the canvas was shredded and
worn. Throwing the canvas onto the beach, I pulled out the flare gun,
loaded it and fired. A burst of smoke shot out from the end of the
gun, trailing into the sky before bursting into a blast of red. I
reloaded the gun and shot it again and again until all of my flares
were used. Breathless, I watched the boat. I started yelling at the
top of my voice and just as I was about to sink down to the sand, the
boat turned and came towards me.
It
took the men a while to reach me. When they stepped onto the beach, I
tried to say hello, but only a high pitched screech escaped my lips.
The bats' language was mine now. The men stared at me for a minute,
before opening their arms and offering me the first embrace I had
shared with another human being in years. Looking down, I realized I
was in tatters and the stench of me must have nearly knocked these
men over. They helped me to the boat, bringing my survival kit with
them. I still don't know why I did it, but as we were sailing away, I
looked back and let out a long call.
“Looks
like he's trying to talk,” a bearded man said. “Poor fella, can't
even make a noise.”
The
bats had heard my call though. A cloud of leathery wings soared into
the sky and flew out over the water before circling back to their
cave and the dark. As they disappeared, the mist in my mind cleared.
“Where
are we going?” I asked. They all looked at me for a moment before
grinning.
“Welcome
back sir,” said the bearded man. “We're taking you home.” The
picture melts away from me and I open my eyes and come back to the
present.
~*~
I
rush from my house, trembling. The bats had called to me, I could
hear them. I had thought I was getting better, I had thought that
the mad man who tore the heads off bats had died in the jungle. Yet
here I am, crouching with my hands on my knees, fighting the urge to
climb up my chimney and eat the bats that reside in my home. I feel
strange, like that fog that covered my mind for eight years is coming
back and engulfing me.
They're
crying has faded now and I am able to catch my breath. I walk back
into the house to call the exterminator to come and catch them and
get them out of my life once and for all. I start dialing the number
when the temptation strikes me. What if I just exterminate them
myself? One or two more bats couldn't take hold of me again, right?
Surely, I have been healed of my insanities. I shake my head,
scattering the mist. I finish dialing.
As
the phone starts ringing though, the screeches start again.
“Hello,
Orkin's Pest Control,” a voice on the other end of the line calls
to me. “Hello?”
I
open my mouth to respond. “H-heaaaaeeeeeeeee—” My word turns
into a screech and I vaguely hear a yell on the other side of the
phone. Flinging down the phone, I turn towards the chimney and watch
as the bats scatter out of the chimney and into the room. My vision
blurs and changes until the colors of the room have dripped into only
black and white before blackness. Everything fades away.
I
don't open my eyes at first, when awareness starts slinking back into
my body. At first all I know is that I am leaning against something
hard and rough, like extremely gritty sand paper. Next comes the
smell, one of burnt logs and paper. When the realization that I am
wedged somewhere flashes through me, my eyes fly open wide and my
heart races. It is so dark that I cannot tell that my eyes are even
open at first, but my ears sense my heart beat echoing off of the
walls and engulfing me. I blink again and can see light shining now
down below my bare feet which are pressed against the wall. I try to
move, but move falsely and tumble down onto the hearth of my
fireplace. My arms and legs are shaking, my head hurting, I drag
myself out from the chimney. The room is in tatters. The blinds are
torn and the furniture is knocked over. The lamp my mother gave me as
a house warming gift lies in pieces on the floor. My clothes are
ripped and covered in soot. I let out a shaky puff of air and start
cleaning the room.
As
I throw the broken pieces of lamp into the trash can, a knock comes
at the door. I set aside the broom and dust pan and go to answer the
call. Opening the door, I find a policeman on my doorstep.
“Good
morning sir, is everything all right in there?” He gives me a look
meant to pierce me, but he does not realize who he is looking at,
what he is looking at. I am not his normal perpetrator.
“Yeah,
eeee-verything is fine, why?” I spit out, swallowing a screech that
begins to come.
“Your
neighbors called this morning saying that there was a lot of noise
here last night and this morning the blinds were torn down. They were
afraid someone had broken in,” he said, his eyes sliding across my
face. “Are you sure everything is all right?”
“Yeah,
I-eeee –” I gulp and feel my face twist into a grimace, “had
some unwelcome little pests in here last night. Some baaaaa-bats got
into my chimney and I was trying to get them out.” My vision blurs
and for an instant I worry I might lose my human composure. Instead,
I smile and add, “Forgive me, I just didn't get any sleep.” The
policeman squints at me for a second.
“All
right, if you're sure,” he turns to start down the sidewalk before
turning to look at me one last time. “Next time just call an
exterminator and go stay with a friend. It'll save you a lot of
grief.” He turns again, walking away with a wave of his hand.
I
go back inside and glance around the house. I put right the furniture
so that it wouldn't show I had hunted last night. I feel full and
sleepy, even content for a moment before the reality of the situation
falls onto me. I had lost control. What might happen to me if someone
finds out? This little Georgia town won't accept that. I start pacing
before deciding to take a walk. A walk will clear my head.
The
streets outside are lined with old, gnarled trees. I head away from
town into the forest, adorned with Spanish Moss. The morning is not a
clear one. Mist circles the branches of the trees and swirls in the
wake of my footsteps. I had been walking for about an hour before I
notice, set back under the weeping moss and mist, an old house. A
young woman stands on the front porch, her arms crossed over a pale
green sweater. Her long black hair falls in loose ringlets around her
shoulders. Her face looks worried and she is watching the street as
though she is expecting someone. She looks familiar. Before I realize
what I'm doing, I wave.
“Good
morning, how are you today?” It is the first time I have managed to
speak normally since last night. She smiles at me and I feel a
familiar warm flare in my chest. The warmth shatters with her words.
“Oh,
all right I suppose. I have a bat colony living in my attic and I'm
waiting for pest control to come before I leave for work,” she
brushes hair mindlessly from her face as my heart picks up and her
pale green sweater turns gray for a moment. She smiles again and it
hits me. She is the woman from my dream, the one that had woken me
from my sleep just in time to signal for my rescue. The one who had
cured me before the bats had come into my house last night. Perhaps
she can cure me again. I have to keep talking to her.
“I'm
an exterminator,” I blurt out. “Would you like me to see what I
can do? The fog will make it hard for the exterminator to find you
today,” I say, feeling the collision of hope and dread in my
stomach.
“That
is tempting, I really do need to go to work. Have you really hunted
bats before?” She looks at me quizzically, trustingly even.
“Yes,
for eight years actually,” I say, trying to stay calm. I walk
towards the house to talk with her. Her face was so lovely, I focused
on her, even as the bats muffled calls reached me.
“If
you're sure you know what you're doing, I'm more then willing to pay
you to try,” she said. “I really need some sleep tonight. I'm
Emma Graham.”
My
heart was pounding as I shook her hand. We stood together under the
Spanish moss in the fog of the morning and talked. She told me she
was an attorney, working on a big case. I talked about fishing and
some of the excitement that it brought me. When she finally had to go
to work, I walked back down the road, not thinking of the bats for
the first time that day. Her smile preoccupied my thoughts. Perhaps
she had been calling to me throughout time and space. Perhaps she
could cure me of my wretched hunger.
Reaching
my house, I walk straight into the kitchen and began rifling through
drawers looking for ear plugs. I am not going to lose my cure. I
finally find the ear plugs and start back towards her little house
back in the woods under the Spanish Moss. I walk over the front porch
and, putting in the earplugs, walk into the house.
It
looks like she just moved in. There are boxes lining the walls and
her furniture is still covered with sheets. There are only a few
pictures on the mantle of her surrounded by parents and grandparents.
I walk across the dusty wooden floor and into the tiled kitchen. The
fog was beginning to clear and light filters through a green and gold
piece of stained glass that hung over the old fashioned sink. I
turned the faucet and watch as the water that was spit out change
from brown to clear. Turning it back off, I leave the kitchen,
beginning to feel nervous about what was coming.
I
head up the long staircase, sticking close to the wall because the
banister look rotten and I don't trust the stairs. Reaching the
landing, I follow the hallway around towards her bedroom. I only peek
inside, seeing that this was one of the few rooms that she had moved
all the way into. I close her door behind me and move further down
the hall to the last door on the right. My hands are sweating as I
reach for the door knob and my heart pound in my head. Taking a deep
breath, I turn on the light and head up the stairs. Reaching the top,
my mouth drops open. Hanging from the eves are the largest colony of
bats I have ever seen. Time stops for a moment until one of the bats
in the middle of the room, pokes his head out from underneath his
leather wing. He turns to look at me with his large black, globular
little eyes. I watch as he opens his little snout and in slow motion
and lets out a screech loud enough to wake the dead. Everything
around me goes black and I lose control again.
Emma's
scream is what I wake to. She stands at the foot of the stairs,
looking up at me in horror. A headless bat is limp in my hand and I
feel blood dribbling down my mouth. I glance around, trying to bring
myself back. The attic is a disaster. I had torn old furniture and
insulation to shreds. Floor boards are smashed in places and
everything is covered with blood. My arms and face are bleeding from
the thousands of little teeth and claws that tore my surface. My skin
looks black and I can feel pained bumps on my shoulder blades. My
nose seems longer as I look past it, back down the stairs just in
time to see Emma run away from me.
I
tear down the stairs after her.
“Emma,
wait! I can explain!” I run after her as the color returns to the
rooms around me.
She
looks back and the terror on her face doubles at the sight of me. She
tears around the corner heading for the stairs. Just as I round the
corner I hear splintering wood and a scream. My heart nearly stops. I
wish it had.
I
round the corner to see that Emma had not turned sharply enough and
had run into the banister. The rotten wood hung in splintered beams
from where she had crashed through. I run down the stairs dreading
what I will find.
Her neck is twisted in an impossible angle and her eyes are wide
open but empty. Her long black hair is filled with bits of wood and
and glistens with blood. Tears spring hot and quick to my eyes and my
vision blurs. I am a monster, any person can see that. My vision
clicks back to gray. I know what I have to do.
Struggling
for control, I walk over to Emma's lifeless body. I straighten her
neck and her limbs so that she lies looking peaceful instead of
hunted. The last thing I do in this life is close her green eyes. My
tears fall down to her face, dripping off the end of my snout. I wish
the same power that had turned me into this monster, that had caused
Emma's death, could reverse, bring her back and kill me instead. She
is dead. My cure is gone. I want to be dead.
I
blink and I am outside, barefoot, climbing up the side of the old
brick house, just as I had climbed the limbless trees in the jungle.
I drag myself up onto the roof and pause for only a second before the
black unconsciousness comes to take me forever. Only a second to rid
the world of the monster I am before I transform. Tonight I will die
or fly, I run over the flat roof and fly into the oblivion of the
night.
