Taken By The Bull

“Please!” That entreaty wasn’t part of the memory – it was part of reality as a heavy hand descended onto the collar of her jacket and pulled her up and back, spinning her around and pushing her forward and down onto her hands and knees.

The frantic pounding grew louder, and louder; if it really was the sound of her heart, then it sounded fit to burst.

Looking up, she saw that the three shadowy figures from the truck surrounded her; tall and dark as obelisks marking the site of a ritual sacrifice.

“You shouldn’t have come sticking your nose in where it wasn’t wanted!” The voice was roughened by cigarette smoke and time. “This is your fault!”

“No! No!” All she could do was curl her arms over her face, listen to the fevered pounding in her head and wait for the fists to fall.

But they didn’t.

“The fu*k is that?!” She heard an unfamiliar voice call out – not the one who had spoken before – and someone else yelled a single word; and the thunder grew louder, the thunder that wasn’t the sound of her heart after all but something else, something far, far bigger.

It broke over her like a great black shadow as something huge and powerful leaped over her crouched body and slammed into one of the dark figures, sending it flying.

Wide shoulders, curved horns, four hoofed feet, glinting black eyes; the bull wheeled around and lowered its head, pawing the ground in warning. The man in its sights shrieked like a child and threw something at the beast, something that bounced off of its wide arched back as if it were nothing more than a ball of crumpled paper.

The bull charged; and the man was cast aside before its fury like a rag-doll, colliding with the dented and rusted fender of the truck with a hollow metallic clang.

“Let’s get outta here!” The cigarette-roughed voice called out and Staci flinched in automatic response. She jerked away from the sound and felt the gravel tearing at the back of her skirt and the palms of her hands as she scuttled back and away, the headlights of the truck blinding her. All she could hear was the thunder of hooves and the sound of the truck door slamming, the engine gunning; and the light died and fell away as the driver threw the truck into reverse and began to back down the driveway.

The bull wasn’t about to let them go so easily. It snorted, put its head down and charged forward, hitting the side of the truck with all of its force, horns tearing through it as if it were wet paper. Even over the sound of the engine and the thunder of hooves Staci heard one of the men inside scream in terror; the truck jolted but stayed upright, the wheels spinning before it shot off down the road, back towards the town.

Leaving her alone with the enraged bull.

Staci drew a deep ragged breath and tried to pull herself to her feet; but her knees gave way under her and she sprawled back to the ground. For the first time, she felt the pain of torn flesh on her palms.

“Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God-” Her frantic prayers were not answered as the bull spun around and faced her, eyes glinting with the reflections of the lights cast from the ranch house. Blood gleamed wetly on the side of its head, running down over its face. “Please, no, no no-”

It moved towards her, slow, steady – and she was sure that it would pick up speed and lower its head and charge, and kill her right there; so sure that she almost saw it as if it were actually happening.

But, that didn’t happen. It just kept advancing, seeming to grow large and block out all the light in the world; and it shimmered as if wreathed in dark smoke.

“NO!” She threw her arm up over her eyes and braced for the inevitable; and when a soft hand fell on her shoulder she cried out aloud in terror. “Don’t-”

“Staci, Staci, Staci. It’s me. It’s okay.”

“St-Steve?” The hand moved to her upraised arm, closed gently around her wrist and lowered it. She opened her eyes and found herself looking straight into the wide concerned eyes of Steve; eyes as black as pools of ink, blood running down the side of his face. Her own brown eyes were wide, uncomprehending as she turned her head frantically, scanning the area.. “Steve, there’s – there’s a bull loose, it – there were men, they followed me here, and – the bull!”

“It’s okay. It really is.” Placing a hand on the side of the face, he pulled her chin up so that she was looking right at him. There wasn’t a single thread of clothing covering his skin. “Nothing, no one, is gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Staci’s mind felt like it had gone into overload, her heart still shuddering from the shock of the last few moments. Even now – even at a time like this – she couldn’t stop her brain from clutching at the pieces of the puzzle, and putting it back together. Black eyes, blood, the bull is gone and Steve is here. Black eyes, blood, the bull is gone and Steve is here. Steve is – He is –

“You’re the bull,” she whispered. “You’re the bull.”