Dark Side of the Mind
My brother and I sat and drank our Guinness in the lounge bar of the
pub. Talk of girls and cars and bikes
filled the time quite nicely. Time
itself was called but we didn’t hear it.
So engrossed in our talking we had not noticed everyone get up and
leave. We hadn’t noticed the large
double doors had been left open letting in the cold damp night air.
The lights had been dimmed to a faint glow, the bar staff had gone and
as I looked back at the door again I saw the outline of a large black dog. It was foggy outside and the mist swirled
around the black shape distorting and making it look menacing.
We stood to leave and immediately I felt the chilled air on my
face. The animal at the door bared its
teeth and growled deeply and softly as if to dare me to pass it.
As it was the only exit we walked slowly toward the door and the dog
slowly backed up and let us pass.
As we lived in opposite directions we parted and I started back. It was a calm warm evening when I set out and
so I hadn’t brought a jacket. I now
wished I had. I moved purposefully
across the car park, with the fog twisting around my legs not wanting to let me
go.
The streetlights glowed in the fog and as I reached the corner I glanced
back. The hound was following me, slowly
padding, 5 or 6 paces behind, not gaining nor falling behind. It was a big dog, like a mastiff, huge head
and a loping gate, its mouth open drooling and sucking in the damp night air.
I seemed to be walking in a small bubble of light, the reflection of the
lamps off the mist was the only light around.
Everywhere else pitch-black, like the hound itself
The dog was beginning to bother me. I had not seen such a large animal around here
before. What was it doing on its
own? I quickened my pace a little but it
made no difference, still 5 or 6 behind me.
I was close to my usual short cut across the Gala field. It was all in blackness ahead with no sight
of the exit, no known centre point to gauge my progress. The road around was much safer, and as I rounded
the corner the last streetlight fell behind me.
The ones ahead were not on at all.
Quite why I crossed the unlit road I will never know and I found myself
on the damp grass of the field and in heavy fog. I was totally alone. In the darkness.
In that split second the dog had come level with me to my left. I
glanced uneasily behind and I saw 2 more maybe 10 yards back. The grass was very wet and unusually
long. I was sure when I walked over it
earlier it had been cut? My lightweight
shoes were soaked thro and in my hurry to get along I was slipping as I
struggled to grip the grassy field.
I had lost all sense of direction and time. Glancing at my watch, it had stopped at
midnight, exactly the time I entered the field and the bank of thick fog.
The leader was now ahead and the other two flanked me all just several
paces away from me.
Now I was following. I could
smell them now, wet and with a rotten flesh type smell, my stomach turned. They were the hounds of hell for sure….Now I
was talking to myself. The grass was now
much longer, making it harder to walk and I struggled to keep my balance, then
I fell.
Immediately they were on me, their mouths dripping saliva and nostrils
flaring. Then in a moment of total madness
I swear I heard the lead animal talk to me.
“get up, get up you must rise master”
Startled beyond belief I looked at each in turn and then back to the
lead. Its eyes as black as pitch as it
hissed again with such force that I shook inwardly as the beasts request forced
itself into my mouth and then into my lungs.
Stunned I could not move, they started to drag me over the grass so
strongly, that I could not help but stumble up onto my feet. Then they were in a line in front of me,
seconds later fanning out.
I stood wet through and covered in grass and mud, totally motionless and
disoriented. I looked around. Nothing. I looked down at my feet. Legs and shoes were bright red, stained in
blood. My blood.
In that split second the lead dog launched its attack and suddenly there
were more people around me. It all
happened in seconds, the 2 other animals then joined in. All I could hear was the sound of ripping
flesh and the smell of animal anger. I
felt splashes on my face and blood curdling screams and then silence as a great
weight pressed me down into the ground.
Then bright lights.
100 years ago to that very night, to that very time, a group of brigands
and smugglers had wrecked a small ship off the treacherous coastline and were taking
the stash of contraband Rum to the Inn at the top of the hill
They had come across a lone Officer of the Realm, returning home with
his 3 English mastiffs.
The smugglers set upon the officer and a violent struggle ensued, with
the mob slashing with their swords into the brave officer.
The dogs fought with skill and bravery to protect their master but there
were too many of them. All died
brutally, slashed and cut, but not before the lead dog had bitten the throat
out of one smuggler.
They were thrown over the dead body of the officer in the gully where
the violence took place to hide the act.
The Medic shone the torch into my eyes.
No one could explain the blood on my clothes. No one could explain why it was animal blood
and why was there a strong smell of rum? I hate rum.
I still go to the same pub, on the site of the old Inn at the top of the
hill, but I never take a short cut, and I never drink rum!
