Re: Story for September

[SharonBell]

I got inspired and found a day to write on my Florida vacation. Hope you enjoy this submission for the Doom Front Page Challenge.

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Bloodsucker
By Sharon Bell Buchbinder
(1,237 words)

"You won't need this little fellow anymore--or the earplug to keep him out," Dr Mark Thompson said and smiled as he pulled up a piece of gauze containing a blood-sated leech the size and color of a cigar. "Your ear's a nice healthy pink."

After dropping the creature into a jar, Mark handed the thick-necked bartender a mirror.

"Ya know, Doc, when you first told me you were going to use leeches on my cauliflower ear, it gave me the creeps. But, they didn't hurt, I don't see a single mark, and my ear looks great!"

"The old becomes new again. These guys are a plastic surgeon's best friends, sucking out congestion and saving fingers and limbs. Well, time to thank him and say good-bye."

The patient gave a gap-toothed smile and waved as Mark left the exam room.

                                                                * * *

"Jessica?" Mark called as he entered his front door. He was pretty certain he'd find her passed out somewhere in the house. His first clue was that her Mercedes SLK was parked half on the driveway, half on the front lawn. He'd been forced to move the car so he could get his Jaguar into the garage. "Ah. There you are."

Lying on her stomach, left arm thrown across the coffee table in an apparent last attempt to reach a bottle of cognac was a petite blonde with a perfect tan and very little clothing.

"Tsk, tsk. That's my Louis XIII you're trying to reach, my dear." He picked up the bottle, carried it over to a mirrored bar and set the Baccarat crystal decanter down with care. He returned to Jessica and rolled her over on her back. She uttered a little moan but remained unconscious.

"Did you have a good day? Oh, yes, it looks like you had a lovely time. How much of my hard-earned cash did you piss away on drugs? A thousand? Two thousand? Five thousand?"

Picking her up in his powerful arms, he began walking back to the master bedroom, still talking.

"You don't give a shit do you? My medical license is on the line every time you go out with your so-called friends and get coked up. Then you need to come down, so you find a bar and party there until someone tells you they won't serve you any more alcohol."

He kicked the bedroom door open, strode to the side of the king-sized bed and dropped her like a sack of potatoes.

"God only knows how you make it home. If your father weren't a wealthy judge, you'd be in jail with all the other coke whores. You were supposed to be my perfect mate—beautiful, intelligent, filthy rich. Now, look at you. You're nothing but a vampire, sucking my life out of me."

He grabbed a pillow, put it over her face and leaned. There was no resistance.

"Why can't you do me a favor and die, you bloodsucking bitch?"

The phone rang. Holding the pillow in one hand, he grabbed the receiver with the other.

"What?" Breathing hard, he caught sight of himself in the mirrors lining the bedroom walls. His blue eyes bulged and cords stuck out on his neck as he struggled to gain control of his voice.

"Dr Thompson, we have a patient in the emergency room. He's cut off three fingers with a power saw."

"Do you have the fingers?"

"Yes, they brought them in on ice."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He hung up the receiver, threw the pillow at his wife and strode out of the room.

As he drove to the ER, he placed an urgent call.

"The largest ones you can get. Yes, that's right. I don't care what it takes. Just bring them to me alive and hungry."

                                                                     * * *

"Jeeeessicaaaa! I see you've had a little driving adventure, darling," Mark called from the front door.

Somehow she'd managed to get the car into the garage this time. Too bad about the refrigerator. He'd have to get a new one. No way could it be repaired, what with the front end of the Mercedes being buried in it.

"Darling, what did I tell you about my Louis XIII?"

As usual, Jessica was sprawled out in the front room, once again with the cognac nearby. This time, however, it appeared she'd decided to try to paint her fingernails while drinking, because a nail polish sized bottle lay on its side next to the crystal bottle.

"Where's the top to this shit, you stupid slut? I can't have nail polish all over the furniture."

Mark made a quick, futile search, and tossed the tiny bottle into a nearby trashcan. Then he hoisted Jessica up in his arms, took her back to the bedroom, gently placed her in bed, and undressed her.

"There. You'll be more comfortable this way, dear. You enjoy being naked."

He left the room and returned with the bottle of cognac, a snifter and a large plastic cooler on wheels.

"Dinner time."

Mark lifted the container's perforated lid and studied the giant Amazonian leeches as they undulated over one another. He gingerly picked up the largest of the three as it thrashed around in his hands, searching for food.

"Patience, patience, food's on the way."

He placed the dark brown creature on his wife's chest, watching as it attached itself almost on contact. He repeated the process twice more with the slimy beasts, then left the room briefly to wash his hands. When he returned, he propped up the pillows on his side of the bed and sat next to Jessica.

"Time to enjoy the show," he said, inhaling the bouquet of his favorite drink. "To you, my darling Jessica." He lifted the snifter. "Bloodsucker to bloodsucker, a fitting end for you!"

He took a deep swig of cognac and leaned back into the pillows, savoring the moment and his anticipated release from hell on earth. His head spun from the excitement of it all. He took another drink and the room began to do a lazy revolution with colored lights.

"What the fuck is going on?" No words, just a gurgling sound reached his ears.

Watching the leeches feeding on Jessica, he saw what appeared to be hundreds of smaller ones creeping out from under the giant ones, a brown undulant wave oozing over Jessica's naked body.

He had to be hallucinating. Then the penny dropped. That little bottle. She must have added something to the cognac. He nodded off, dropped the snifter, and heard a muffled sound of glass shattering somewhere off in the distance.

                                                                     * * *

A persistent ringing pulled him out of a fog. How long had he been sleeping? He fumbled at the belt holster and pulled the phone up to his ear.

He wiped at his nose. Something wet. A nose bleed? "Hullo?"

"There's been a huge screw-up!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Annoyed, he reached up to scratch at the ear not engaged with the phone. His fingers touched something slimy.

"The leeches. Don't take them out of the cooler. They're females—they have hundreds of live babies at a time. They get into every single orifice of someone's body. Don't take them out! Did you hear me? Don't take them out!"

Mark dropped the cell phone, rolled off the bed, stared in the mirror, and began to scream.

THE END