Skeyeballs

  “Mitch, tell me you’re not actually considering this.” 

  There had been many times that Janice wondered why she’d married this man, but never more so than now. He turned toward her and scowled. 

  “We said we were going to cut loose on this vacation, Janice.” 

  “Getting experimental eye surgery in Costa Maya wasn’t what I meant and you know it,” she argued. “Besides, the cruise ship leaves in two hours! They don’t wait for passengers, Mitch, they’ll leave without us.” 

  The strange doctor stepped closer. 

  “I can be done in one hour, forty five minute. You will make your cruise ship no problem.” 

  His extremely high-pitched voice and the fact that he was wearing a beekeeper's outfit unnerved Janice. She was over this, and decided to put her foot down. But before she could speak, Mitch stepped in front of her. 

  “Okay doctor, I’m in.” 

  Mitch handed the doctor his credit card and then hopped onto the operating table. The fact that the operating table was out in the open was another troubling sign. Janice looked around, seeing other tourists going in and out of shops and restaurants. They all had the common sense to avoid the strange doctor, but not her husband. 

  The sonic whir of a drill filled the air, and she stepped closer as the doctor started cutting into Mitch’s eyes. A concerning amount of blood shot out, but the doctor just hummed and kept on working. 

  “What will you do with your new skeyeballs?” the doctor asked. 

  “Easy. I’m gonna send one of them to the Texas Rangers baseball game, and the other to the Dallas Cowboys football game. Two sports at once!” Mitch said. 

  Janice thought about just leaving right then. The whole concept of this operation was outlandish. The doctor’s promise of turning your eyeballs into floating, independently operating organs that still sent optic signals back to the brain seemed impossible. But for the low low price of 200 pesos, Mitch couldn’t pass it up. 

  Everyone else was too busy shopping to pay attention to the operation, but Janice grew more concerned over the next hour. Mitch stopped breathing several times, something the doctor assured her was normal. The man kept working, and eventually he stepped back and gestured toward Mitch’s bloody face. 

  “Tada. Now you have skeyeballs.” 

  For a moment, Mitch just lay lifelessly on the table. The doctor punched him in the chest several times, and finally Mitch sucked in a desperate breath. 

  “There you are. All better,” the doctor said. 

  Mitch sat up. His bloody eyes spun around strangely inside their sockets. 

  “Honey? Are you okay? Did it work?” Janice asked. 

  “I… I think so?” Mitch answered. 

  With a wet pop, his eyeballs pushed forward and flew out of his face. Janice screamed as they rose into the air, dripping blood, but Mitch started giggling. 

  “I’m flying!” he said. 

  She turned to look at him, screeching as she saw chunks of flesh and pools of blood in his empty eye sockets. 

  “Mitch, your face!” 

  “Don’t overreact, Janice. I can see so much more now!” 

  The doctor started twirling in circles and singing, a broad smile on his face. 

  “The operation was success!” he shouted. 

  The eyes froze in place, then tilted down, focused on the doctor. They swooped low and veered to the side. For a moment, they hovered over the tray holding the doctor’s tools, then they landed on either side of a scalpel. The eyeballs rolled toward one another, pinching the handle of the scalpel between them, then rose, now wielding the blade. 

  “Not again!” the doctor yelled. 

  He turned and ran. The eyes zipped after him, in hot pursuit. 

  “Are you doing this?” Janice asked, hitting Mitch on the arm. 

  “I’ve got no control!” he shouted. 

  The doctor ran into a small shed, and the eyes followed him in. 

  “What do you see?” Janice asked. 

  For a moment, all was silent, then a blood-curdling scream came from the shed. All the color drained from Mitch’s face. He reached out a hand. 

  “We have to go. Now!” 

  Janice helped him off the table. He slumped onto her, and she nearly fell beneath his weight. They made their way back toward the cruise ship. Mitch gasped, then gripped Janice tighter. 

  “Faster!” 

  “Why? What do you see?” 

  Again, her question was answered in screams. Janice glanced over her shoulder and saw two different people clutching their necks, red blood spurting out. Chaos broke out, and people sprinted in all directions. The eyeballs were flying above the panicked crowd, still holding the scalpel, searching for more victims. A swarm of tourists formed around Janice and Mitch, all running for the cruise ship. 

  “Someone help my husband!” Janice yelled. 

  A muscular man saw the bloody state of Mitch’s face and came over to help.

  “We got another victim here!” the man yelled as he picked Mitch up and carried him toward the ship. 

  Janice did her best to keep up as they all fled back to the cruise ship. Once on board, she and Mitch slipped away from the crowds and went back to their room. Announcements were made about the murders, and all passengers were told to remain in their rooms for the duration of the cruise. 

  Janice got Mitch cleaned up and helped him into bed. He fell into a fitful sleep, and when he awoke, it was the middle of the night. Janice gave him some water, then, despite the fear in her heart over what the answer may be, she asked him a question. 

  “What are the eyeballs doing?” 

  Mitch slowly turned toward her, and she stared into the bloody void of his empty eye sockets as he answered. 

  “Killing. They are killing everything.”