Damned By Nature: Tales of Wild Suspense

By K.G. Godel

Five stories of supernatural horror involving animals.

El Diablo: A matador is cursed by a witch, and fated to meet his end from the next bull he challenges. Determined to prevent it, the Spaniard prepares for a duel with Destiny, but he soon discovers that the point of his sword may not be as sharp as the wit of fate.

Demons in Swine: An experimental heart transplant surgeon learns that one of his patients has escaped from a mental asylum—and vowed to kill him, on the very same night that he is visited by three desperate men in urgent need of medical aid. The doctor resolves that there is strength in numbers if he helps them, but in doing so he might break a heart.

Mamba: In the depths of a forbidden jungle a big game hunter must fight against a relentless mamba snake and his own lethal ambition.

The Empty Cage: A zoo director is alarmed when he finds an unoccupied exhibit pen and becomes obsessed with revealing its secret.

Hide and Seek: A fashion designer brings home the most unusual fabric sample, a rainbow-colored piece of fur that proves to be very much alive, and hungry. In a battle for survival she learns that a beast, unlike beauty, can be more then skin deep.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.G. Godel
• Release date: Jun 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463592267

K.G. Godel

K. G. Godel resides in British Columbia, Canada.

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DAMNED BY NATURE

Smashwords Edition/Copyright © K. G. Godel 2020

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This is a work of a fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional. Any similarity to actual persons or events, past or present, is purely coincidental.

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DAMNED BY NATURE:

Tales of Wild Suspense

CHAPTER 1 THE TOURISTS

One by one, the five passengers found their way through the dense ocean mist shrouding the decks of the yacht called Amicus to reach the beckoning lights of the leisure cabin, their refuge from the eerie weather.

The tall Spanish man, wearing a self-satisfied expression upon his youthful and handsome features, had entered first, and stationed himself by a Victorian-era statue of a comely woman holding a bull’s horn in provocative gesture.

The American was the second to appear. He was sixty-five years old, indifferent to the other individual, and disinterested in the cabin’s entertainments. Yet he felt most comfortable standing at a table displaying a collection of antique containers and boxes, especially a ceramic coin bank shaped like a pig.

The third, an Englishman, was near fifty, his aloof demeanor made evident by the fidgeting moustache and military-style posture while strutting about the room as if on an inspection tour of conscripts. He judged one particular wall the most inviting: it showcased a barren trophy plaque, a commemorative name plate was too scratched and faded to decipher the mystery of the absent prize.

A middle-aged, short and balding Frenchman was the last male passenger to enter, and he sat down next to a decorative brass bird cage. He glanced over its empty structure before wearily leaning back in his chair.

The Canadian woman entered thereafter, drawing the focus of her four companions. She was alluring and fashionable but her eyes sparkled with an icy coldness. Ignoring their licentious stares, the final guest seated herself away from the others, upon a sofa with only one other occupant, the skin of an old bear possessing conspicuous snarling jaws.

They were silent for several minutes, mutually impatient and restless, until the British man turned his head to the fog-coated observation window, exhaled loudly, and declared, I say, thick as the proverbially pea soup! I do not know what possessed me to book passage on a ship with such lacklustre accommodations. I will have a few stern words with the captain when we reach port. I may not be a navigator but this is most improper conduct. Steering us through confounded weather and not even an apology for his passengers?

The man has no honor, remarked the Spaniard as he took interest in a rusted sword tucked away among the room’s paraphernalia. With a glance towards their female companion he added, But the cabin décor has its virtues.

He slashed the air with the aged weapon.

The Brit gestured to it, You handle that blade with confidence. Served in the army?

No, the Spaniard replied. But I use the sword professionally.

Professionally?

In the bullring.

Ah, his companion nodded. I prefer a rifle myself. And a bull elephant is more my game. Bagged the first in Kenya when I was but a lad of twelve.

He and the matador noticed the American looking at them with interest. As their eyes met, the stranger stated, Animals. I use them in experiments, he answered. I am a research doctor of medicine.

The hunter raised a brow in surprise. He turned to the Frenchman who was cultivating his own notice of the conversation.

Fascinating coincidence gentlemen, the seated observer explained, For I too have a professional interest in beasts. I am administrator of a zoological garden. A ‘zookeeper’ if you prefer.

Then collectively, the four men fixed their attention on the lady.

I am a fashion designer, she revealed, her hands rhythmically stroking the head of the bear rug. I work exclusively with fur.

They exchanged amused glances.

Intriguing that with such an occupational familiarity fate should bring us together, the zookeeper remarked.

As he spoke, the matador’s blade struck a veiled object stored in the shadows behind his seat.

Hello? What’s this? the hunter exclaimed, joining the bullfighter to examine their discovery.

The latter tore away the fabric cloaking the mysterious shape, revealing an antique instrument.

It was a four foot tall rectangular box decorated with colourful ornamentation. On the front, a lens was situated under a hood with hand crank fastened to the side of it, the top section bulged out into a cylindrical shape.

A music box? the clothing designer queried.

No madam, the zookeeper answered. Rather its purpose is entirely visual. It is what I believe is called a mutoscope. You insert a coin and a picture will seem to come to life within the mechanism.

What sort of picture? the researcher wondered aloud.

A magic act or erotic dance I would assume, shrugged the zookeeper. We will not know until someone provides the monetary token and looks into the viewing lens while turning the handle.

CHAPTER 2 EL DIABLO

There was a jar on the top of the machine. The hunter scrutinized it. Five coins were inside.

Ladies first? he grinned politely to the distaff member of the group.

She waved dismissively.

In that case allow me to discover what secret it holds, the bullfighter interjected, taking up position in front of the hood and viewing lens.

I hope it shows a vision at least as lovely as our present company.

He leered at the woman before placing a coin in the receiving slot. Looking into the eyepiece, he grabbed the hand crank and began turning it. Lights flashed through the opening...

Ramone Juan Cordero advanced upon the dying animal, raised his sword to the roaring crowd, and plunged