The Rain Train

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Fear and shock are unique emotions. In one second they can paralyse you and in the next solidify you, numb you to what you do not understand. One step at a time Kevin moved closer to the door. His mind was coating itself with a layer of blankness. He did not want to think. He just wanted to do. Almost there. His right foot came down and slipped slightly in the pool of blood. He allowed one thought; It really did look like tar.

As he laid his hand on the stall door he could hear people getting louder outside saying, “Over there!” and, “In the women’s bathroom!” along with more wails and sharp yelps and screams.

“Everybody get out!” A strong New York accent bellowed.

“Dan, Meyer, get these people back as far you can. Outside or as far back as possible.”

Kevin began to push the door inward, the smell was getting stronger, riper.

“Pierce you’re with me. Let’s go!” The cop in charge was yelling.

Kevin could hear the jingles, the creaking of their uniforms, clear as day. His senses were on high alert. He could even hear the slow crawl of the blood pool. He had only seconds to see what was in the stall because in the next five minutes his world would change forever.

Several things happened at once. Shock, terror, sickness, all all of these feelings grabbed hold of him in an instant. He felt himself staggering and his hearing seemed to dull. Time stopped for only a moment and a slight stream of drool fell from the left corner of his mouth. The woman in the stall was not his woman. Not the woman from his dream. He knew this for a fact, even though she was torn apart and almost unrecognizable. Her hair was black, half soaked in her own blood. She was sitting on the toilet with the seat down, head unnaturally hanging to the left. Thankfully her eyes were closed. Her face was soaked in blood Like Carrie at the prom. But what made time pause and threaten Kevin’s last three meals to join the pool of blood on the floor was her torso. Her body had somehow been torn apart from the inside. The ribs, jutting out and cracked, emerged from the her chest, a shattered meat cage. The remains of a shirt lay on the floor but her jeans were still on, legs sprawled.

The door to the bathroom slammed open but Kevin heard this from a distance. It should have been the body of this poor woman keeping him frozen in mid flight but it wasn’t. It was the smoke. Curling in and out of those shattered blood drenched ribs and bones was a kind of floating milky liquid. It looked heavy if that was possible and moved with a purpose. It moved by itself and felt...alive. Kevin could feel it. Beyond the sense of fear and disgust overpowering him there was a dread building in him as he stared at the milky cloud now hovering over the woman’s flayed chest. He couldn’t take his eyes away from it although every nerve in his body was trying to flee. It was like a bag of blood had been burst underwater, yet the color of a cataract. He could hear footsteps coming toward him. He didn’t look in their direction. He stood balanced only by the hypnotic milky cloud and the stall door slammed against the stall wall.

As a hand grabbed at his shoulder Kevin felt the world begin to catch up with him, reality rushing back into his consciousness like a car wreck at ninety miles an hour, he saw it. There in the smoke. Those eyes. Those soiled golden eyes. They weren’t golden but he knew what he was looking at. The cloud of smoke curled and twisted and in the middle of it a face formed. It wasn’t clear and it was brief but it was angry. The eyes milky and blind but definitely aware, the mouth moving, morphing trying to scream or laugh he wasn’t sure. Fingers pinched the muscles in his shoulder and Kevin felt himself being pulled away. Before the world snapped into place he saw the cataract face turn away from him, a long dirty fogged tongue forming from the open mouth and licking the the meat from the dead woman’s chest.

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