Hemorrhage #Horror

Posted: October 4, 2021/Under: Uncategorized/By: Christine Young

Hemorrhage: Ben is a writer whose love of Charlotte hemorrhages his heart so terribly, he sells his soul to the devil so she may bear his child.

Hemorrhage: Horror

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BLURB: Hemorrhage

Hemorrhage is the story of Ben Weiss and Charlotte Green. Part Bukowski, part 8 ½, and part Dante’s Inferno, the book follows Ben and Charlotte’s romance, alternating between their voices for every chapter. Ben is a tall, funny Jewish writer and Charlotte is a clairvoyant, puppeteer, with a magic cat that talks, though never to her. Charlotte has three predictions for the future. She will marry Ben, she will have a son, and civilization will end in her lifetime.

EXCERPT: Hemorrhage

Heartache has always been the only condition that inspired me to create good literature. Sometimes, I think I subconsciously go looking for it whenever I go long enough without having written anything of substance.

I actually cried walking home from Charlotte’s party and everyone on that packed Hollywood boulevard sidewalk laughed at me. That pain persisted for days until I sat down in front of my computer, feeling ready to write something. Then as Microsoft Word loaded up, I got a phone call from none other than my brother, Jerry.

“Hey Ben.”

“Jerry?”

“That’s right, Ben. Can you guess why I’m calling you?”

“Is Dad sick?”

“God forbid…what’s wrong with you? No. I’m calling you because I’ll be in Los Angeles next week.”

“Really? How long have you known you were coming here?”

“I met a girl from L.A. last month on an app. Anyway, we’re in love now and I have to go to Los Angeles to see her.”

“Cool, so it sounds like you’ll be too busy with her to see me. Don’t worry though, I won’t take it personally if we don’t hang out.”

“Hang on…she has a job. If you don’t mind, since I know you have all this free time, can you show me around L.A. while she’s at work?”

“How do you know I have free time?”

“You’re a writer.”

“Yeah, that’s a job.”

“No, it’s not.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Call me when you’re in L.A. Maybe I’ll have time for you…maybe.”

“I know you’re joking so I’m not going to be pissed…dickhead.”

Jerry hung up the phone. I stared at the keyboard. The computer screen, my fingers and the flickering vertical line on Microsoft Word were begging me to type. I was ready to prove my genius only minutes before but now I was stuck in neutral.

Jerry arrived in Los Angeles and his girl picked him up from the airport. He stayed with her for a few days and didn’t bother calling me until Wednesday night, just three days after he arrived, at eleven thirty p.m. His ring startled me awake and I answered the phone, frustrated to no end.

“Fuckin aye, Jerry.”

“What?”

“It’s eleven thirty, man.”

“How old are you, bro? Fucking eighty?”

“What do you want?”

“The bitch kicked me out of her place.”

“What?”

“I need to come over.”

“You’re not coming here.”

“I need to see you, Ben. I need someone now. I’m not okay.”

We always joked around so much when things took a serious turn, we couldn’t even recognize it without one of us making it clear. My flesh and blood actually needed me. This moment might never happen again, especially if I chose to be selfish.

“I’ll text you my address. Uber here.”

“Thanks, Ben. I’ll see you soon.”

He arrived fifteen minutes later, coming out of the Uber with a duffel bag of clothes. He held his arms out to hug me and we did for the first time since our Mother died. We held each other until he started sobbing on my shoulder. I felt the instinct to complain bubble up in me but suppressed it and wisely chose to sympathize.

“There, there, Jerry. At least you got laid.”

“I was in fucking love with this girl and she tore my heart out.”

“Didn’t you only meet her online a month ago?”

“She said she loved me and wanted to be with me forever.” He pulled away and looked at me. I had never seen my superior so weakened and destroyed.

“Look, you’re still young. There are plenty of women that would love to be with you. Women living where you live. Real ones, not digital.”

“I’m thirty fucking six, Ben. Every respectable person around me is already married…why doesn’t anybody want me?”

“I know how it feels, Jerry. I fell deeply in love with a girl, now she fucking hates me and I still fucking love her. She shits on me and I’m obsessed with her. She makes me hate myself and it’s fucking killing me every night out here.”

Some switch in Jerry’s brain flipped on and suddenly he became my older brother again, forgetting his own heartbreak to remedy mine.

“Come on, Ben.”

He started walking down the street and waved me over.

“Where are we going?”

“To get a drink…or three.”

Our tears dried quickly as we romped around the cold Los Angeles night. We bought a six pack of shit beer and six mini-shots of tequila from a liquor store then ducked out into an alleyway to drink. With every beer, we took a shot, imagining this alley were some boxcar bar that we had all to ourselves.

“I remember one time you said hell and heaven are states of mind. I think I finally know what you meant.”

“You feel like you’re in hell right now?”

“I know it.”

“You’re not, Jerry.”

“Really? If I’m not then who is?”

I pointed to a bum at the other end of the alley. He was trying to bite his own ear off with dried blue froth in the corners of his crusted lips. Between bites, he’d “baa” like a goat. It was a sight too crazed to turn away from or acknowledge amidst polite company.

“That guy right there. He’s in hell. You’re not. Not today.”

Jerry took his beer bottle and threw it at the bum. It shattered in a loud crash right at his feet. The bum then yipped and skittered away on all fours, still scared for his miserable life.

“That’s right. Get the fuck out of here. This is our alley now.”

Jerry took the last beer, which was meant for me, and pulled his arm back to throw it like a football. I grabbed him with all my might, trying to save my last cold one.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Jerry!?”

“I need to break something or hurt someone. If I don’t,I’m just going to fucking explode.”

“You want to hurt someone? Hurt me, bro.”

“You feel like getting crushed tonight, baby bro?” he said, testing me.

Jerry pushed me away but I was able to pry the beer out of his hand. I popped off the cap, took a huge swig then threw the half-empty bottle against the wall. Its shattering empowered me, pumping me up.

“Tonight’s as good a night as any. Try me, motherfucker,” I challenged him.

I took off my shirt and threw it aside, revealing my slinky white body.

“Get some.”

Jerry came at me and immediately got me into a noogie, grating his knuckles into my skull. I started pounding him with a barrage of punches to his gut that he absorbed with no sign of pain other than a rigid smile on his face.

“That all you got, baby bro?”

“Fuck you.”

“Awwww, you’re adorable but you gotta mind your fucking manners.”

He spun me out of his noogie and I stumbled backward. Jerry then did a jumping dragon kick that caught me right in the dick. I fell to my knees, groaning, all systems scrambling, my nuts shooting up into my stomach.

“Sorry, Ben, I meant to hit your face.”

My knees fell to the cold concrete and puked up a little puddle.

“It’s all good,” I winced. “Just give me a minute and I’ll take you to a motel.”

“You don’t want to get another six pack first?”

“Sure. Hang on. My nuts are throbbing.”

“I never wanted to be an uncle anyway.”

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