The Incurable Wound

It has been months since my trip to the islands. I still talk to my friends there, exchange emails, but something tells me that they had more of an effect of me than I realized.

Like most people, I dream. Perhaps unlike many, I remember my dreams. Some are odd, some erotic; but most are nice, pleasant, meaningless dreams. Since my return, however, I have been plagued by the most unsettling dreams. The odd thing is how similar they are. I dream that the three of us are together and that I am one of the three. It is weird seeing the world through her eyes, feeling her feelings. I have talked to many women over the years, but none have ever expressed feelings like the ones I remember her having.
Most involved the trio being out at night. Walking through darkened parks, dancing at clubs; and meeting men.
Usually that’s all there is to the dreams, at least that’s all I can remember. That is until this last one.
It is early afternoon right now. I am sitting on my deck and enjoying the warm sunshine. And yet, the thought of the dream gives me a chill.

And the dream started like this-
She is walking through the park, on her way home from a night at the clubs. Her two friends have gone in the other direction, back to their homes. Now a young lady should not be walking through the dark park by herself, but she feels no fear. Despite the darkness, she can see everything. She also knows there is someone behind her. For not only can she hear his light footsteps, she can feel his presence.
The path curves ahead and behind. She cannot be seen by anyone, so she melts into the shadow of a small bush. Moments later, she sees him come round the curve of the path. Tall, strong, handsome, she can see the confidence in his stride. She can feel his manliness emanating from him. She smiles to herself, as she feels the lust well up inside her. Her heart quickens and she knows the aching hunger inside her will soon be satisfied.
When he is almost upon her, she steps from the shadows and blocks his path. He is startled, but only for a moment. He remembers her from the club, bright smile and a hunger in her eyes. He knows what she wants, knows she wants it from him, as all women do. With supreme confidence, he walks up to her and wraps his arms around her. She wraps herself around him, pulling him close. Lips meet, travel; hands roam, their breathing quickens.
She pulls away for a moment and looks him in the eyes. The dark blackness sucks him in and he feels his will leaving him.
“You cannot resist me.” She whispers and he is lost.
Immobilized, he no longer comprehends what is happening. Barely notices as she sinks down to her knees. Roughly, she pulls his pants down and feels along his thigh until her fingers feel the pulse of the large artery. Overcome by lust, she sinks her teeth into his leg, ripping out a chunk of his hot flesh.
Only a small gasp escapes his lips.
She spits out the chunk of flesh and hungrily fastens her lips to the gaping wound. As she gulps down the warm salty blood, the feeling of ecstasy consumes her.

Sometime later, her mind slowly clears. She is standing over the now lifeless shell of what was once a young man. She licks her lips and savors the last tasty drops of his blood. She let herself get carried away again. Took it all, instead of just what she needed. But she knows she will not have to feed again for a long time.

Effortlessly, she lifts him up and carries him deeper into the dark park. She stops by a manhole cover and drops him. She easily pulls off the heavy iron cover and looks down into the city sewer. A good place for the likes of him, she thinks. She then reaches into her purse and pulls out a wicked looking knife. “I don’t want you coming back and hunting in my territory.” She says.
With deft skill, she cuts through his neck and then snaps the spine. First, the body is thrown down into the sewer, then the head follows. She easily places the heavy cover back over the manhole and nonchalantly heads for home.


And as I sit here on my deck, sipping a cold beer, I try to understand what the dreams mean. I am afraid that they are somehow related to the small wound on my leg. The wound that never seems to heal, but always stays an angry red.
But most of all, I fear what may happen to me if I ever go back to the islands and see my friend.