Text only stories from a variety of authors -
Ever since he was a kid Tim had been fascinated by guys getting killed by arrows. He'd watched every western that came on TV and loved it when the cowboys, the "bad guys" in Tim's mind, were hit by an arrow, feeling strangely excited if the arrow struck naked flesh. He cheered on the Indians and always felt dejected when the cowboys ultimately won. As he grew older his fascination took on sexual significance and grew into a full blown fetish. He neither understood this passion nor cared to understand it, and it seemed at times to consume him. In the back of his mind he knew he had always wanted to be on the receiving end of an Indian's arrow.
Through high school and college Tim involved himself in as many sports activities as he could. He found that the exercise, exhaustion and lack of free time helped him curb his strange fantasies. He buried himself in his studies when he wasn't in the gym or at the track, filling his mind so his mind couldn't wander. Yet, even as he succeeded in sublimating his desires, it was only a temporary reprieve, and Tim knew it. The fantasies, shut out of the light of day, were growing in the dark, festering, waiting. Tim knew that too!
After college, Tim worked for and received his teaching credential. Always athletic, one of those guys who always ran around barechested and tanned, playing b-ball, running, hiking, Tim decided to become a coach. During the summer prior to the start of the school year, Tim worked at the high school where he was to begin teaching. Low man on the totem pole, he spent most of his time checking sports supplies, repairing gear and the like. Free time was spent on the basketball court or in the gym. He was determined as ever to keep his dark side hidden, not just from the world, but from himself.
One mid-August afternoon, after the football jocks had cleared out from their preseason practice, Tim decide to run. He always had a lot of pent up sexual energy to lose after working so closely with the muscled teenagers, and he loved the feeling of pushing himself physically, the mind following the body rather than the other way around. He ran the track for about 15 minutes when he noticed someone over at the archery range.
He slowed to catch his breath and watched as a tall man with black hair down to his shoulders fired arrow after arrow straight into the center of the target. Tim had never seen anyone make such perfect bullseyes, one after the other. He started to run again but stopped, suddenly as a second look at the archer provided a clue as to the unknown man's ethnicity. Tim's heart jumped and started to pound as he realized the archer was an Indian, or, more properly, a Native American. The man was well over six and a half feet tall, with tanned, brown skin, and while he was fully dressed, Tim could see the play of his muscles across his broad back and deep chest, as they flexed and relaxed while he worked the bow and released the arrow. *THWACK* Another perfect bullseye.
Tim was drawn to meet this man, for reasons he knew deep down inside, but also, he told himself, it was his job to secure the school grounds before he left. He was just doing his job. Tim came around to face the man just as he let fly another perfect shot. *THWACK*. Tim's heart jumped again as he looked at the man. Not much older than Tim, the man was absolutely beautiful. His flowing hair framed a face that, except for the most astonishing aqua blue eyes, was the quintessence of an American Indian. He smiled at Tim, a bright, flashing greeting that made Tim's head spin. *THWACK* He shot another perfect bullseye.
Tim was in a state of thrall. The man was beautiful, an American Indian, and he was shooting arrows one after the next straight into the center of the target. Tim's mind raced to find something to hold onto and came up blank.
"I have been waiting for you."
Tim barely heard, his heartbeat almost drowning out the man's voice.
"You've waited a long time, Tim."
Hearing his name brought him closer to his senses. His voice found, he said almost in a whisper, "How do you know my name?"
"I have always known you, Tim, and you have always known me."
Tim opened his mouth as if to question what had been said, but he said nothing. A strange sense of peace and tranquility overcame him. He looked up into the man's depthless blue eyes and thought he saw himself, smiling, peaceful, at rest.
The tall man placed the bow over his shoulder, walked over to Tim and said, "It is time."
Tim followed the man without questioning him. They walked to the target to retrieve the arrows. Tim looked at the center of the target and jolted as he thought of the devastation wrought by the many arrows the tall man had loosed at it. He was suddenly excited, his sexual juices flowing. It had been a very long time.
The two men made their way off the school grounds and walked the short distance to Tim's place. The tall man took the lead, never asking Tim where they were going. Tim followed and was silent. His heart was beating with anticipation. His mind was in a sexual daze through which he thought he heard the tall man's voice, soothing him, preparing him.
They walked through the door, Tim first, the tall man closing it behind them. At the sound of the latch Tim turned, his mind clearing somewhat.
"I know why you're here," Tim barely heard the words come from his mouth. He looked up into the tall man's face.
"You have always known, Tim. You have known since before you were born."
Tim turned away and repeated himself, "I know why you're here...and I'm ready."
"You were born ready, Tim. It is your destiny."
Tim slowly walked across the livingroom. He stopped and turned, holding his t-shirt in his hands. He looked up at the tall man and smiled. His heart was beating rapidly, but the strange peace and tranquility he'd felt back at the archery range came back to him, filling him with hope, he felt like the eagle floating on the warm currents.
*THWACK* Tim looked down to see an arrow protruding from his navel. A small trickle of blood already beginning to well around the shaft. There was no pain, only the same feeling of floating, a detachment of the body and mind. *THWACK* Tim saw a second arrow, this time in his mid gut. Blood welled there as well, but again there was no pain.
Tim looked up to the tall man's face. He reveled in the beauty he saw there. He recognized the man but didn't know him. He only knew this was the man who would give him what he'd always needed, take him where he'd always wanted to go, send him...*THWACK* The third and final arrow had found its mark. The tip had pierced Tim's heart and as he looked down to see it in his strange detachment, his heart stopped forever.
What he saw instead was what the eagle sees as his body is lifted by the warm, caressing currents. Tim was flying home...
Mark Horgula heartmuscle@hotmail.com
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