Post-Halloween Short Story

The book thumped shut and retreated into a tan backpack as she slid out of her chair and out of the library. The November night air was perfectly chilled, flowing into her skin and refreshing her. Suddenly it didn’t feel like 3:30 in the morning. The sun had still not begun to brighten the sharp black sky, and she double-checked her watch. It remained far too late to be so far from her bed. She jogged down the steps, following the familiar route, past the Geology building and the corner wing place, into the subway station. She descended into the tunnel and through the empty turnstiles to platform B.

Something about emptiness of the station at this hour always appealed to her. The lonely benches and intensity of the echoes transformed the daily commuter chaos into a paradigm of isolation for late-night travelers. Long hours of studying and lab work had familiarized her with this pre-dawn transformation in her past six years at the University. She would almost miss it when she received her graduate degree in the spring.

The chugging of the approaching train interrupted her thoughts. Light pouring from the windows and its wheels creating a chorus of squeals, the train ground to stop. Its doors slid opened and she entered, taken aback to find other passengers on the train as well. She walked past a lone male traveler, and a group of three younger men. She took a seat across the aisle, next to the door. She pushed her hair behind her left ear and glanced around her as the train sped off towards the edge of the city.

. The first man looked to be in his forties. A nametag still dangled from his plaid shirt. The hospital logo was visible, as was the “Dr.” in front of his name. He was broad-shouldered but not overly thick. He rubbed his Rolex and appeared to be studying the men next to him. She thought she saw his brow furrow out of the corner of her eye as she looked away.

Her eyes moved right to the three black men, all sitting next to one another. The one in the middle, a hefty, bearded man with a tight black shirt and green jacket, was asleep. His head and arms bobbed with car as it shook down the tracks, shooting through a tunnel and grinding to its next stop. The one on the right was shorter, but muscular. He sat with his arms crossed, leaning on his bigger companion and rubbing his bicep through his Yankees jacket. She could barely see his face under the bill of his ball cap. He ground his teeth.

The man to the left was thin, with puffy black hair and a denim jacket. He sat completely still, his hands crossed in his lap. As her gaze shifted up she caught his eyes, wide and white, pupils glaring straight at her. She looked away quickly, to the first thing that caught her eye. She relaxed for a slit-second before realizing that she was staring across the car and straight into the doctor’s eyes. If the thin man’s stare had made her a bit uneasy, the doctor’s stare made her completely uncomfortable. The doors whooshed open and shut and the train shot through a tunnel. Desperately searching for something to occupy her, she glanced at the map above the door.

“Three more stops,” she thought. She repeated it to herself as she blankly stared at the map. She could still see the thin man in her peripheral vision. His eyes remained glued to her. He remained completely motionless. She swallowed and stole a glance at the doctor. His eyes, too, were locked on her. She felt a hot, tingly sensation run through her body, from her calves, up her gut and out through the tips of her fingers and her forehead. She felt flush. She felt like she looked flush.

With the penetrating stares continuing, everything she did felt amplified. She tried to reassure herself.

“It’s ok

it’s ok

it’s ok its ok its ok”

She tried to act natural She straightened her skirt on her leg, but it felt forced. She sat up and slouched back down. She fought panic.

The train stopped again. She silence was pounding. The eyes didn’t move. She thought she could feel the stare of the shorter man, from under the bill of his cap. The stares pressed against her, forced her down in her seat. She wanted to run, to take the next train but they held her there.

Suddenly, the doctor rose. He walked up the aisle, towards the door on her right. She exhaled, slowly and silently. She ran her hand through her hair. He was no longer staring at her. He looked straight ahead, as he approached the door. He took a step past her and

Everything blurred

His hand on her shoulder

He grabbed her arm she spun. She tried to scream but she-

She couldn’t, she gasped, she righted herself as he pulled her off the train.

She looked back for help

The thin man stiffened and lurched forward, but the doctor pulled again, spun her out of the door.

“Don’t worry” he whispered as his grip loosened. “We’re safe.”

She fought him; struggled again as the door slid closed and

His grip released and he backed away - she looked - the thin man’s stare remained fixed on her. The shorter man sprang up and glared as the car shook and prepared to roll away. The hefty man remained, but his head rocked back from his companions’ movement. She saw the blood. It pooled up in his seat, glistened at the top of his black shirt and dripped from the gash in his throat.

The train was swallowed up by the tunnel and the platform was still.