Written by: Charles McHale
What if Blood was the Color Blue?
Written by: Charles McHale
This is probably scientifically impossible, but it's definitely probable. No it's not. Yes, I know it isn't possible, but that's what this segment is all about! Really though, this situation is completely possible because I spent a whole day in a situation where my blood was actually blue, as well as everyone else's. Here is my story.
I was sitting in a valley at sunrise. It was a somewhat windy morning, cloudy, but enough to see the color of the sky coming through. I haven't slept yet, I guess I just had a hard time sleeping that night. I relaxed as the wind brushed the the fine grown wheat, it might have been a good time to harvest if it was part of a farm. I heard machines revving up and I knew I was not in a good spot. It seemed as though I picked the wrong valley to loiter this time. I picked up the flask and cigarettes sitting right next to me and ran to my car to get out before I was seen. Immediately, I saw a farmer in a cultivator. He looked serious. He had a piece of wheat in his mouth, a cowboy hat and everything. I didn't want to be in this guy's way, so I picked up the pace.
As I drove off, I was spotted. I saw him pick up a rifle that he had on his vehicle which only caused me to drive faster. Only a fraction of a second later, I heard a gun shot and my arm was in serious pain. I held my arm, it hurt so freaking bad. I looked at my hand from which was holding the wound.. the blood was blue. I heard more gun shots, resulting in more bullet holes in my wind shield.. this cowman was a good shot.
I drove off the valley and went into the ocean. There were a lot of cars in this wave current for the hour, more than usual. They were all over the place, was my life flashing before my eyes? "Keep it together", I thought, "I was only shot in the arm". I was able to get to a hospital, but I was terrified of getting caught for trespassing on private property. I have a friend that knows what to do in this situation, not a certified Doctor, but has been in this situation plenty of times. He parties a lot.
Sergei was very inviting. He saw my wound and sent me to his basement. Before I went to the basement, I took a trip to the bathroom to vomit my brains out. I looked back at the wound. "Why the freak is the blood blue?", I thought. I vomited some more and made my way to his basement. He was already prepared. Tarp with a chair in the middle was waiting for me. I went back to the bathroom to vomit a little more. "Why the freak is my blood blue!?", I thought again. So I got myself together so I would be prepared. The tarp looked smaller this time. I sat down in the chair as Sergei put his gloves on. He had these huge terrifying tongs that had 5 tentacles moving furiously. I vomited a third time right there. He picked up a bottle with his other hand and poured it on the wound. It might have been a full gallon of milk. Goddamn it hurt. He stuck the Octopus Tongs (that's what I called them, I called them Octopus Tongs) into my arm to dig the bullet out. Surprisingly, it didn't really hurt. It just felt weird, kind of cool. I guessed milk really does do a body good.
Finally, after all the blood loss and somewhat agony, Sergei says, "The wound is too deep man. I think you might need a Doctor". Immediately, I panicked. I literally felt my heart beating outside of my chest. I vomited for the 4th time and said what I needed to for Sergei to believe I was going to an emergency room. I drove back into the sea where the traffic was even more hectic than before. There was a plethora of whales too, annoying as hell. I had to go back home, I could shake off this wound. "So what if I go the rest of my life with a bullet in my arm," I thought.
As I sat in my basement at my home, I felt the pain in my arm throb more and more. I looked at the wound and noticed the area around it swelling up. The area around was red, oddly enough. Band-Aids, Neosporin did nothing. I took a swig of Buffolo Trace brandy from my flask. This was the cowboy's fault, granted I was on his property. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was in the end. I had to kill him. I found an old butterfly knife that I had. It was dull as a spoon, but I figured it would make it all that more painful when I gut him. I drove back into the majestic ocean.
There he was, at the barn smoking his Marlboro Reds with his other farmer f%cks. So lax, unsuspecting of his imminent death. It felt like I was watching him for an hour, where it was only 10 minutes for him to get back to work. Good thing I still had my flask... I followed him to a more remote area where he was harvesting more wheat. He had another piece of wheat in his mouth. Between the cigarettes and the wheat, this man had to have something in his mouth at all times (I knew if this man was called a homo, he would be really upset, the mouth joke helped me degrade him a little). I waited for him to cut a long grove moving the direction towards me, since I could watch from inside a wooded area. He stopped suddenly and looked right in my direction. "Did he hear me?", I hope I didn't say that out loud, because it sounded like I did. He was staring right at me. I was f%cked. He suddenly went back onto his cultivator like nothing happened, moving the opposite direction from me. "This is my chance", I said out loud. "He must die".
He had no rear view mirrors, so I moved in behind him. As I went in for the stab on his right side he grabbed his rifle, but not quick enough. I went in with every last bit of strength in body and mind to make sure my knife will be buried deep inside his lower abdomen. While his hand was on his gun, I wrapped my arm around his neck and threw him on the ground. The gun flew out of his hand. The cultivator kept moving. As he lied on the ground in agonizing pain, I stepped on his neck with all of my body weight. Then I pulled from him, but I made sure I twisted the hell out of it as it was coming out. I saw his blood was blue as well. "Hmm, blue blood. I guess I was normal all along," I said. I picked up his rifle and emptied it. I threw it as far as I could and left the bullets right next to his head. As he started to beg for mercy I gutted the f%cker and saw what his intestines looked like. I sprawled them all around him. I saw his tears. I saw the family he cared about in his eye. And he saw the pain. He saw the agony and pain of the gunshot wound in my eye... I have a gunshot wound. I need to go to the hospital.
I was at the emergency room. I didn't even care if I was caught for trespassing anymore, or even for killing a man with my bare hands... and a knife. I was taken in almost immediately. "Did you have any consumption of drugs or alcohol?", the Doctor asked. I told him I was drinking some brandy as he discovered the flask falling out of my pocket. "I'm definitely dying", I thought. He said some urgent words to someone next to him and I passed out.
I woke up with this thing next to me and my friends on the other side slapping me in the face. "Dude, are you okay?", my one friend said. I didn't have a single word to say. My other friend said, "how did you eat all that acid and not go insane? You were just playing that marble maze game for almost 7 hours". I looked at the two of them, then the marble game, then directly at the camera and shake my head. I said, "here we go again."
Written by: Charles McHale
5/23/2013 11:24:38 pm
not a bad short story. needs some editing, a few revisions and a stronger ending, but definitely entertaining.
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