Aargh. I hate being woken by bright sunshine on my face. Oohh. My back. Where the hell am I? I see through one half opened eye that I am on the porch. Didn't even make it inside to bed. Where have I been? What did I get up to last night? I'm trying to move but I feel like my body has been stretched out then pummled into a ball. Like water skiing through mud then pounced on by the local Rugby team, and here I am trying to force myself into movement... I don't even have any clothes on, just wrapped in the dog's blanket that was on the porch.
I'm trying to get up but can only make it to all fours. Aching all over and a pain in my gut like a bowling ball - wrapped in barbed wire... and the taste in my mouth. What did I eat last night? It tastes of rotting meat, off fish and stale milk - with hot chillies. Oohh, I just threw up in my mouth. I have to get to the bathroom. I'll just crawl.
Vomiting helps a little. Now to throw some clothes on. I can just about walk now. What's that noise? Sounds like a car coming up the driveway. Geez, I moved out of town to get away from people and I really don't feel like entertaining visitors this morning. It's a cop car. What the hell...?
The cops have been here twice before. About a month ago, and then a month before that. Both times they were investigating wild dogs, or something attacking stock on the neighboring properties. I wasn't well those times either but this time I feel so much worse. As the thought of wild animal attacks occurs I have a sudden flash in my mind of distressed horses, loud growling and blood all over the place. I want to throw up again.
I meet the cops on the front porch - lucky they didn't arrive before I woke up. "Hi guys. Don't tell me something's been eating livestock again."
"Hi Dan. Afraid so, but it's a bit worse this time. Something got into your neighbor's and mauled two of their cows and a horse."
I had another quick flash of dead animals, growling and blood. I had to catch myself so I didn't vomit on the cops.
"You OK Dan?"
"I'm not feeling the best this morning. Sorry." I tried to gather myself together. "Sounds like the same as last time, didn't they think it was dingos or something?"
"It was a bloody big dingo if it was. It gets worse too. What ever it was knocked the back door down, got in and attacked Susan and her little one year old."
The pain kicked in my gut and I had another flash of growling and screaming and blood.
"There wasn't much left of them. Was horrible."
As he spoke I could hear their screams in my mind, I could see them cowering on the floor, I could see the pieces of them that were left lying in pools of blood. I couldn't keep it in any longer, my gut convulsed and I threw up right where the cops stood.
What was I remembering? Could it be? Was I the animal responsible?
No.
It can't be.
It's impossible.
I couldn't be the cause of all that death. The cows... the horses... Sue... that poor sweet precious little kid.
No.
Not me.
The cops took a step back from the vomit. "Geez Dan."
We all looked down at the putrid pile on the porch. And all at once we noticed something in the mess. It was unbelievably gruesome, but amidst the bile, blood and undigested remnants was what looked like a small child's finger. More flashbacks, more vomit. I can't take this. I lunge for the cop's gun. He grabs it first so I grab his hand with the gun and pull it up to my chin.
"Do it. Shoot me. Kill me. Stop me. It was me. I'm a killer. That poor baby. That poor woman. Don't let me do it again, kill me!"
Bang.
