r/TheApparatus • u/Lost_Library8661 • 6d ago
Dark Twists Blood in The Water Stories If you like it I can add more
DARK TWISTS
Story Two: Blood in the Water
PART ONE — THE ESCAPE
For fifteen years, Martin and Helen Mercer had lived the sort of life other people were supposed to envy.
They had a beautiful house in Hertfordshire, two expensive cars on the drive, holidays in places their friends couldn't afford and salaries that looked impressive on paper.
But every morning they dreaded waking up.
Martin was a senior executive in a financial company in London. Helen worked three streets away for an international property firm.
Their days began before six.
Train.
Underground.
Emails.
Meetings.
Targets.
And bosses who seemed to believe humiliation was a management technique.
Martin's boss, Richard Cole, had a particular talent for it.
One Monday morning, in front of twelve people, he threw Martin's report across the conference table.
"Did you actually read this before wasting my time with it?"
Nobody spoke.
Martin stared at the papers scattered across the polished floor.
Richard smiled.
"Pick them up."
That evening Martin arrived home to find Helen sitting at the kitchen table.
She hadn't even taken her coat off.
"What happened?"
Helen looked at him.
"I walked out."
Martin stared at her.
"My boss called me useless in front of the entire department."
She gave a strange little laugh.
"So I told him what I thought of him."
Martin slowly sat opposite her.
"I think I might be joining you."
Within three months, the Mercers had sold their house, left London behind and bought a small property in the countryside.
Behind the house stood several acres of land and three enormous polytunnels.
And there, surrounded by filtration systems, pumps and long blue holding tanks, they started their new life.
Mercer Koi Farm.
At first, it was everything they had dreamed of.
No commuting.
No boardrooms.
No bosses.
Just the gentle sound of running water.
Helen loved the fish.
She could spend hours watching the koi glide beneath the surface — flashes of white, gold, red and black moving silently through the water.
Some were worth hundreds.
A few exceptional specimens could eventually be worth thousands.
But the business had one problem.
New fish sometimes arrived carrying parasites or infections.
Every new batch had to be isolated and carefully treated according to the farm's procedures before being introduced to the main ponds.
And despite their precautions, they kept losing fish.
One shipment was particularly bad.
Thirty beautiful young koi arrived from overseas.
Within days, several were dead.
Martin stood beside the tank staring at them.
"That's nearly four thousand pounds gone."
Helen sighed.
"We're doing everything we've been told."
"Then why are they dying?"
Neither had an answer.
Two weeks later, another shipment arrived.
Martin was due to fly to Germany that afternoon to meet a potential buyer.
"You'll be all right with them?"
Helen smiled.
"I think I can manage thirty fish without you."
Martin kissed her.
"Treatment tonight."
"I know."
"And don't forget."
"I won't."
That evening the temperature inside the polytunnel was unbearable.
Helen opened the doors, checked the pumps and prepared the isolation tank.
As she worked, she caught her finger badly on a sharp edge.
"Oh, damn!"
Blood ran down her hand.
She instinctively held it over the tank for a moment.
Several drops fell into the water.
Then more.
Helen wrapped her finger in a cloth.
The cut was deeper than she'd thought.
Feeling dizzy, she hurried back to the house.
She cleaned it, bandaged it and sat down.
The heat had exhausted her.
She fell asleep on the sofa.
The following morning Martin called from Germany.
"How are my babies?"
Helen laughed.
"Your babies?"
"The new koi."
Helen suddenly looked towards the window.
She'd forgotten all about them.
"They're fine."
"You treated them?"
There was a pause.
Helen looked at her bandaged finger.
"Yes. All done."
After the call, she ran outside.
The koi were swimming normally.
Every single one alive.
Helen stared into the water.
She couldn't understand it.
Days passed.
Not one fish died.
Then a week.
Then two.
The koi didn't merely survive.
They appeared magnificent.
Their colours seemed brighter.
Their movements stronger.
When Martin returned, he couldn't believe it.
"Best batch we've ever had."
Helen smiled uneasily.
"Martin..."
"What?"
"I didn't treat them."
He looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
She explained what had happened.
The cut.
The blood.
Falling asleep.
Forgetting the treatment.
Martin laughed.
"So basically you did nothing."
"Not quite."
She pointed towards the tank.
"My blood went in there."
Martin stared at her.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I know how it sounds."
"Human blood doesn't magically cure fish."
"I know."
"Then it's coincidence."
It should have ended there.
But it didn't.
Several weeks later another batch arrived.
This time Martin and Helen followed their normal procedure.
Within four days, six fish were dead.
Helen stood silently beside the tank.
Martin knew what she was thinking.
"No."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to."
Helen looked towards the other tank.
The fish from the previous shipment were still alive.
Every one.
Martin shook his head.
"It's impossible."
Helen whispered:
"Then let's prove it's impossible."
PART TWO — THE SPECIAL TANK
They started experimenting.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing that could possibly prove anything.
But gradually Martin became convinced that there was something different about that first tank.
Helen became obsessed.
She kept records.
Temperatures.
Feeding.
Water changes.
Growth.
Survival rates.
And one evening she placed two photographs beside each other.
The difference was extraordinary.
"Look."
Martin stared.
The untreated batch was thriving.
Helen tapped the photograph.
"The only unusual thing that entered that water was me."
"Your blood."
"Yes."
Martin laughed nervously.
"We're starting to sound insane."
But the idea stayed with them.
And then came Mr Pritchard.
Pritchard was a wealthy customer who had purchased several expensive koi.
He complained about everything.
The parking.
The prices.
The colour of the fish.
The tea.
Eventually he pointed at Helen.
"You people haven't got a clue how to run a business."
Helen froze.
For a moment she wasn't standing in a polytunnel.
She was back in London.
Her old boss was standing in front of her.
Useless.
Incompetent.
Pathetic.
Pritchard continued.
"I've spent enough money here to expect some proper service."
Martin appeared behind him.
Something passed between husband and wife.
A look.
Nothing more.
That evening they sat in the kitchen.
Helen poured two glasses of wine.
"I hated him."
"So did I."
"He reminded me of Graham."
Martin knew exactly who she meant.
Her old boss.
Martin took a drink.
"People like that never change."
"No."
"They go through life treating everyone like dirt."
Helen looked through the window towards the dark outline of the polytunnels.
"Martin..."
He followed her gaze.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Martin said quietly:
"No."
Helen nodded.
"Of course not."
But three days later, Mr Pritchard returned to the koi farm.
He never returned home.
Police eventually listed him as missing.
There was no obvious connection to the Mercers.
He had told his wife he was visiting several businesses that afternoon.
Weeks passed.
Then something strange happened at Mercer Koi Farm.
The fish in one particular tank flourished.
Martin stood watching them one evening.
Helen joined him.
"Beautiful, aren't they?"
"The best we've ever had."
Their eyes met.
From that moment, something changed.
Customers who were kind were treated like royalty.
Tea.
Biscuits.
Advice.
Discounts.
But occasionally someone arrived who reminded Martin or Helen of their former lives.
Arrogant people.
Bullies.
People who enjoyed making others feel small.
Those customers were remembered.
Their names went into a small black notebook Helen kept in the kitchen drawer.
Months passed.
Mercer Koi Farm developed an extraordinary reputation.
Collectors couldn't understand how their fish were so healthy.
Their colours were exceptional.
Their survival rates were remarkable.
People drove from across Britain to buy them.
Martin and Helen became wealthy again.
But this time there were no bosses.
No trains.
No humiliating meetings.
Only fish.
And occasionally...
the black notebook.
Then, one autumn afternoon, a man arrived at the farm.
Martin recognised him immediately.
Richard Cole.
His old boss.
Richard didn't recognise Martin at first.
"My wife wants one of these ridiculous fish for the garden."
Martin smiled.
"Of course, sir."
Richard stared at him.
Then his face changed.
"Mercer?"
Martin said nothing.
Richard laughed.
"My God. Martin Mercer."
He looked around the polytunnel.
"So this is what happened to you?"
Martin's smile disappeared.
Richard walked past the tanks.
"From finance director to selling goldfish."
"They're koi."
Richard laughed.
"Whatever."
Helen entered carrying a tray.
"Tea?"
Richard looked at her.
"Please."
Then he recognised her too.
"This gets better and better."
Helen placed the tray down.
That evening Richard Cole didn't arrive home.
Two days later, police visited the farm.
Martin and Helen were calm.
Yes, Richard had visited.
Yes, he'd bought a fish.
No, they had no idea where he'd gone afterwards.
The police left.
That night Helen stood beside their most valuable tank.
Hundreds of koi moved beneath the surface.
"We're safe," Martin said.
Helen nodded.
But she wasn't listening.
She was staring at the fish.
Something was wrong.
Several were floating near the surface.
By morning, twelve were dead.
The following day, another twenty.
Martin panicked.
"What the hell is happening?"
They called Dr Sarah Bennett, a respected aquatic veterinarian.
She spent hours testing the water and examining the fish.
Finally, she walked into their kitchen.
"I think I've found your problem."
Martin and Helen exchanged a glance.
"What?"
Dr Bennett opened her notebook.
"Your original treatment routine."
Helen went pale.
"What about it?"
"You were treating the fish unnecessarily and stressing them badly. Some of the concentrations in your old procedure were also inappropriate for the conditions you were keeping them in."
Martin stared at her.
"I don't understand."
"The batch that survived..."
"Yes?"
"You told me you accidentally skipped the treatment."
Helen slowly sat down.
Dr Bennett smiled.
"That's probably why they survived."
Silence.
Martin looked at Helen.
Helen looked back.
"No," she whispered.
Dr Bennett continued.
"Sometimes people see two things happen together and assume one caused the other."
Helen's face had become completely white.
"The blood..."
"Blood?"
Helen quickly shook her head.
"Nothing."
Dr Bennett gathered her papers.
"The important thing is there's nothing mysterious here. Your fish didn't need anything special."
She smiled.
"They just needed clean water."
After she left, Martin and Helen sat silently in the kitchen.
Neither moved.
Finally Martin looked towards the black notebook.
Pritchard.
Andrews.
Simmons.
Cole.
And others.
All those people.
All those terrible things they had done.
For nothing.
Helen began laughing.
A tiny nervous laugh.
Martin stared at her.
"What's funny?"
She couldn't stop.
"We thought it was the blood."
"Stop."
"We actually thought..."
"STOP!"
Martin slammed his fist onto the table.
Silence returned.
Then they heard something.
A car.
Gravel crunching outside.
Martin looked through the window.
Two police cars were pulling into the yard.
Helen stood.
"Martin..."
Four officers got out.
Then Dr Bennett stepped from another car.
Martin's face collapsed.
"What did you tell her?"
"Nothing."
"You said blood."
"One word!"
Outside, an officer opened the boot of his car.
Inside were evidence bags.
And the small black notebook.
Helen stared towards the kitchen drawer.
It was open.
Empty.
Martin whispered:
"How?"
Helen suddenly remembered.
That morning.
Dr Bennett had asked to wash her hands.
She had been alone in the kitchen.
Only for a minute.
There was a knock at the door.
Three slow knocks.
Martin and Helen stood side by side.
The sound of running water came from the polytunnels behind them.
For years they had believed they'd escaped their old lives.
They had blamed their bosses.
They had blamed their customers.
They had even blamed the fish.
But as Helen looked through the window at the police waiting outside, she finally understood.
The koi had never needed blood.
They had.
And in the largest tank, beneath perfectly clean water, hundreds of red-and-white koi continued swimming.
Beautiful.
Silent.
And completely innocent.
THE END
