Post by LOKACollector on Nov 29, 2017 16:35:45 GMT
She hadn't planned to take the subway - it wasn't wise this time of night, not in this
neighborhood - but rehearsal had run late and there hadn't been a cab in sight. I'll be okay,
she told herself - its only a mile from the subway to my apartment. Just a few blocks. I
can do this.
The subway car had been empty. She'd almost wished for company, but it was only one
stop and at least no-one would bother her during the ride. She stepped off the train and
immediately felt that something wasn't as it should be. There was a wrongness about the
station. Even at the slowest of times, she could count on seeing at least a homeless
person or a drunk sheltering here, but it was empty - empty yet filled somehow with an air
of expectancy, almost of hunger.
It was warm tonight, that was all. The bums were all elsewhere and the warmth combined
with her exhaustion and nervousness was causing her imagination to run wild. Too many
horror novels. Get a grip, she told herself. Everything is fine. just be glad you weren't
hassled on the subway and hope for a safe walk home.
She had walked up the first five steps when she felt that someone was behind her, but she
steeled herself not to turn. Maybe just a security guard, maybe a wino from some
previously unseen corner. Maybe still just her imagination. Then she heard the footsteps -
the sounds slapping like large bare feet quickly gaining speed. Was that the sound of
claws clicking? She began to hurry, but her pursuer was almost to the stairs. There was no
doubt now - someone was after her... and that someone was snarling. Maybe it was
a mad dog, she thought - or maybe something much worse her imagination
screamed. She was almost to the top, she could make it. She could sprint down the street.
Just a mile. Just a few blocks. There'd be cars, people - maybe even a cop.
She cleared the stairs just as whatever it was started up after her. She didn't like the
sounds it made. It wasn't the sound of a dog. Dogs didn't alternate between four
legs, three legs and two. They also didn't take steps three to five at a time. RUN she told
herself. Don't look back, just run!
Her legs felt weak and rubbery, but she forced them to move. The night was warm and
still. There were no cars, no people, no cops. Just a not particularly well-lit street and
from somewhere far away the mournful sound of a saxophone. She kept running, her
senses preternaturally heightened. She heard the beast, for it could only be a beast, some
creature of nightmare, as it burst from the subway and paused to emit a scream of purest
bloodlust.
Only a mile. Almost to the end of the first block. Just a few more blocks. There was a
jazz club near her building - no doubt the source of the music. They'd be open. The
bouncers knew her. They would protect her.
Loping inhuman footfalls. Snarls of hunger and hate. Getting closer. Her breath was
coming in gasps. She was running so fast. So afraid she would stumble; so afraid she
would fall... From perhaps ten feet behind her came a triumphant snarl and the pounding
steps became a leap.
She felt the searing, white-hot pain of the claws sinking into her back, then
the jarring impact of its massive body. Her hand clawed the unyielding concrete of the
sidewalk, nails shattering to bloody stubs as she fought for another few inches, fought for
an escape that she refused to believe was impossible. The thing's teeth began to rend her,
but still she struggled to reach some place of safety. Even as the beast began to feast on
her living flesh, her mind refused to accept grim reality. It clung desperately to its last
thoughts:
Just a mile. Just a few more blocks. I can make it. I'll be okay.
Mike
Story and photos property of Mike Sutherland, all rights reserved 3/25/2011
neighborhood - but rehearsal had run late and there hadn't been a cab in sight. I'll be okay,
she told herself - its only a mile from the subway to my apartment. Just a few blocks. I
can do this.
The subway car had been empty. She'd almost wished for company, but it was only one
stop and at least no-one would bother her during the ride. She stepped off the train and
immediately felt that something wasn't as it should be. There was a wrongness about the
station. Even at the slowest of times, she could count on seeing at least a homeless
person or a drunk sheltering here, but it was empty - empty yet filled somehow with an air
of expectancy, almost of hunger.
It was warm tonight, that was all. The bums were all elsewhere and the warmth combined
with her exhaustion and nervousness was causing her imagination to run wild. Too many
horror novels. Get a grip, she told herself. Everything is fine. just be glad you weren't
hassled on the subway and hope for a safe walk home.
She had walked up the first five steps when she felt that someone was behind her, but she
steeled herself not to turn. Maybe just a security guard, maybe a wino from some
previously unseen corner. Maybe still just her imagination. Then she heard the footsteps -
the sounds slapping like large bare feet quickly gaining speed. Was that the sound of
claws clicking? She began to hurry, but her pursuer was almost to the stairs. There was no
doubt now - someone was after her... and that someone was snarling. Maybe it was
a mad dog, she thought - or maybe something much worse her imagination
screamed. She was almost to the top, she could make it. She could sprint down the street.
Just a mile. Just a few blocks. There'd be cars, people - maybe even a cop.
She cleared the stairs just as whatever it was started up after her. She didn't like the
sounds it made. It wasn't the sound of a dog. Dogs didn't alternate between four
legs, three legs and two. They also didn't take steps three to five at a time. RUN she told
herself. Don't look back, just run!
Her legs felt weak and rubbery, but she forced them to move. The night was warm and
still. There were no cars, no people, no cops. Just a not particularly well-lit street and
from somewhere far away the mournful sound of a saxophone. She kept running, her
senses preternaturally heightened. She heard the beast, for it could only be a beast, some
creature of nightmare, as it burst from the subway and paused to emit a scream of purest
bloodlust.
Only a mile. Almost to the end of the first block. Just a few more blocks. There was a
jazz club near her building - no doubt the source of the music. They'd be open. The
bouncers knew her. They would protect her.
Loping inhuman footfalls. Snarls of hunger and hate. Getting closer. Her breath was
coming in gasps. She was running so fast. So afraid she would stumble; so afraid she
would fall... From perhaps ten feet behind her came a triumphant snarl and the pounding
steps became a leap.
She felt the searing, white-hot pain of the claws sinking into her back, then
the jarring impact of its massive body. Her hand clawed the unyielding concrete of the
sidewalk, nails shattering to bloody stubs as she fought for another few inches, fought for
an escape that she refused to believe was impossible. The thing's teeth began to rend her,
but still she struggled to reach some place of safety. Even as the beast began to feast on
her living flesh, her mind refused to accept grim reality. It clung desperately to its last
thoughts:
Just a mile. Just a few more blocks. I can make it. I'll be okay.
Mike
Story and photos property of Mike Sutherland, all rights reserved 3/25/2011