Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 28, 2022

All In a Day's Work

 
Source: https://www.wallpaperflare.com/old-radio-station-vintage-wallpaper-uvrya
 
 
 All In a Day's Work
 
 ===
 
    Bzzzzzzzzzz.
    The constant droning hum made Gabby's neck and shoulders ache. It was this constant, incessant sound that just seemed to drill into her skull and set her teeth on edge. And, for whatever reason, it was absolutely atrocious today.
    "Guhhh!" she cried out in annoyance to no one in particular.
    "Problem?" Mike called from the other room.
    "No. It's nothing." she said with a deep sigh.
    She reached out to the small radio on her desk and fiddled with a few of the knobs but to little success. While she was able to lower the volume slightly, it also made the constant noise less of a hum and more of a soft crackle as more of the sound came through clearly. Gabby briefly considered turning the whole contraption off but knew she'd get in far more trouble then she cared to think about if her boss came in and her dispatch was turned off.
    But bless it all she needed a break.
    "Hey Mike?" Gabby called as she stood, stretching her arms in a feeble attempt to loosen the knot between her shoulder blades.
    "Yea?" came the answering call.
    "Can you keep an ear on dispatch? I wanna go grab a refill."
    "Yep." he replied unethusiastically.
    Picking up her mug, Gabby stepped out of the crowded little office into the main bullpen to find Mike exiting his own office. He looked very much like she felt. Tired, bleary eyed, and completely bored out of his skull.
    "Don't look too excited now." she said with a weak smile.
    "Haha." he exhaled dryly, running one hand through his blonde curls. "Wanna grab me a snack while you're over there?"
    "Sure." Gabby replied. "Any preferences."
    "Surprise me." he said as he walked past her into her office, sipping at his own coffee.
    Gabby let out an uncontrolled yawn as she walked by rows and rows of cubicles, making her way to the breakroom and the expensive coffee maker that her boss had felt was a 'necessary expenditure' for the workplace.
    She certainly wasn't going to argue.
    The whole thing was a fancy pile of machinery that she had no hope of ever understanding. It was shiny and chrome and seemed to gleam in the light of the breakroom. One of their clients had recommended it some years back and bless the man who did because it made dealing with the stress of the job just so much easier. 
    Taking her time, she looked through the selection of different beans and settled on a dark roast she had tried a few times but hadn't sampled in a couple of weeks. Gabby rinsed out the used mug in her hand, tossed it under the drip, and let the machine do its thing while she raided the nearby shelves for snacks.
    Onion chips. Potato chips. Granola bars. Popcorn. And...what is this? Salmon jerky?
    She shuddered at the thought, having tried it once and only once. The smell had been way too much and the taste was somehow even worse.
    Settling, instead, on some of the sweet Hawaiian onion chips, Gabby snatched up one of the bags and returned to the coffee machine as it finished dispensing the life-giving bean juice.
    "Hey, hey." Ralph said with a bit more pep then she felt the day deserved as he entered the little breakroom. "There she is. You workin' hard or hardly workin'?"
    "Hey Ralphie." Gabby replied, offering a genuine, albeit tired smile.
    "Hey Gabs." he returned. "You hear about that...?"
    "Yea. Yea I did." she said with a sigh. "Been non-stop all morning because of it."
    "Well, least first response is all done, right? Just the client's responsibility now?"
    "Mostly." she confirmed, glancing back to the near full coffee mug and snagging it from under the drip. "I think there's a few stragglers that are still getting sorted out."
    "Fair enough." Ralph replied with a shrug before taking up residence in front of the coffee machine. "You have to go out for it?"
    "No." Gabby replied as she fished out some almond milk from the nearby fridge. "But I wouldn't complain if they did, honestly. Ever since the big guy wanted to do the 'less hands-on' thing, I feel like I never get to see any clients. I didn't exactly sign up for a desk job."
    "Yea. But I get it. We can't hold their hands forever." her coworker replied with a shrug. "And hey, if we're the only ones doing any work, whats gonna be left for them to do? Am I right?"
    "Yea, yea. I guess so." she replied while stirring a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. "Still. I just wish I had a bit more to do."
    "Careful with that kind of wishful thinking." Ralph said with a smirk. "You just might get it."
    "Pff. Later, Ralphie." she said, walking out of the breakroom and back into the main hall.
    "Later!" he called after.
    Coffee and onion chips in hand, Gabby trudged her way back across the bullpen and by a seemingly endless number of cubicles. Each one had a different person in them, all doing their assigned work. Some looked happy. Some looked tired. Some looked like they could look into oblivion and win a staring contest.
    Same shit different day.
    "Oy. Big guy." She called as she reached her office door before unceremoniously tossing the chips at Mike's head. He was sitting at her desk, his attention focused on the radio on top of it, and staring at it rather intently.
     The chips bounced off his skull with a satisfying crinkle and cracking of the chips inside.
    "Rude." he said as he reached down and grabbed the now fallen chips off the ground. 
    Mike popped open the bag as Gabby walked back into her office, but he made no move to get up from her desk. Instead, he leaned back over and began fiddling with one of the knobs on the radio. It was only then that Gabby realized-
    "It's weirdly quiet." she observed, realizing that the constant hum was gone.
    "That's what happens when you don't try to listen to every station at once." 
    "I'm more efficient that way."
    "Yea, I bet you are." Mike said with a shake of his head. "I bet you can't even understand half of what's being said."
    "I mean, I can. I just have to really try to listen, ya know."
    "Well, I tuned you to Kids radio."
    Gabby frowned, thinking that maybe she should have gotten Mike that Salmon jerky instead.
    "Come on, man. Kids radio? That's always the wors-"
    As if on cue, the radio chirped in its own opinion on the matter.
    "H-hello? I... I don't really know how to do this... I've never really done this before..." came the uncertain sound of a young child through the contraption on her desk.
    "Come onnnnn." Gabby groaned loudly.
    "Hey, you've been saying you wanted some field work and you know the big guy has a soft spot for the kids."
    "But..." she began.
    "No good deed goes unpunished. You ever heard the story of the good samaritan?"
    Gabby glared as him as he walked past.
    "You suck." she declared.
    Mike just laughed.
    With a sigh, Gabby settled down to her desk and turned the radio up. Despite feeling riled up by having to do actual work, Mike was completely right. A kid could be justified and would let her get out of the office. At least, provided it wasn't over an X-Box or something.
    "...don't even know if you can hear me or not. But Daddy always says I should try to talk to you. He says..."
    The radio starts to go to static but Gabby quickly adjusts it until its crystal clear. Though whether the clarity is due to the equipment or the client is anyone's guess.
    "...every night. So, if you're listening. I guess I'm asking about my dad. He... My mom says he got hurt. There's a lot of people here. Lots of doctors. And they told me I should say goodbye. But I don't know why. Why can't we just go home?"
    Gabby felt a tightness in her chest as she listened that seemed to wash away her previous annoyances. She set down the coffee cup, having not even taken a sip.
     "If you can... Can you help him? I don't know what's wrong, but I don't want to say goodbye. I think he's hurt, but I don't know how. He won't get up. And there's these machines and..."
    She could hear the child's voice beginning to crack as the emotions began to overwhelm him. Pulling her attention away from the radio, she grabbed her workstation and pulled up the file on the client. Skimming it briefly, she noted a few key details both about him and his family.
    "Ahh, kid." she whispered to no one,  an exhalation of exasperation at the notes on the child's father. "That's awful."
    "I don't want to say goodbye. I just want him to get up. I don't want to say goodbye." the kid began to actively cry through the radio.
    There was nothing more to listen to. It wasn't like she was going to get anymore from a traumatized nine year old.
    A warmth flushed through her cheeks and around the edges of her eyes as she listened to the quiet little sobs and her throat closed ever so slightly. There was something about kids that always just got under her skin. Maybe it was too much of her boss's comments or something.
    "Alright!" she shouted to Mike. "You win!"
    "Ha!" came the answer from the door next to her's.
    She pulled up the messenger on her workstation and quickly jotted out a message to her boss, letting him know where she was going and that it was for a client. She then shot him over the ticket information and marked herself as absent before standing up and leaving behind the forgotten coffee.
    "See you when you get back." Mike called after her.
    "Yea, yea." she responded. "I blame you for this." though she knew he wasn't at fault for anything more that tuning the channel to be more focused.
    Crossing the bullpen and winding her way through the desks, Gabby reached the elevator and hit the button. She thought about how things used to be and how it seemed like only her, Mike, and Ralph were ever given leeway to do field work anymore. It used to be half the desks did on-sites but now the big guy only trusted the three of them and even those had to be justified.
    Still, she wouldn't complain about not having to wait on the elevator.
    The gleaming, chrome doors opened and she stepped inside, slapping the 'G' button before leaning against the far wall. The doors closed a few moments later with a gentle 'whoosh' and she felt the elevator begin to move. Her stomach lurched ever so slightly as the elevator descended quickly towards the ground.
    "Bluh." she groaned at the sensation of her lunch trying to crawl up her throat from the speed of the thing.
    The elevator hit ground floor a minute later and, stepping out, Gabby found herself in a crowded city. She took a moment to get her bearings, glancing around at the people walking by and the cars zooming through the streets, before settling on the large white hospital building at the far end of the block. A few seconds after, the sounds of the street died away, only to be replaced by a soft, incessant beeping of machines and the light murmur of voices, broken only by the occasional cough.
    Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and pulled up the details.
    "JEREMY GREEN. ROOM 722."
     Crossing the lobby, she took another, much slower elevator up to the seventh floor of the hospital, only to be greeted by a Caduceus symbol. Gabby couldn't help but chuckle, thinking that she really needed to see Hermie as it'd been a while since they last spoke, and then checked the directory. Following the guide to the right, she soon found what she was looking for.
    A young boy sat on a small bench, tears streaming down his face and his hands clenched tightly together in a ball. A woman, his mother presumably, sat over top of him, her arms draped around the child's shaking body. Tears streaked her cheeks as well and Gabby could clearly make out the racking sobs in her ribcage.
    "Ahh... Kid..." Gabby whispered sadly as she walked up and gently ran a hand through his hair.
    He didn't notice.
    Glancing past the bench into the room beyond, there was a cacophony of sound and light.
    Machines of all make and model stood around an unconscious middle-aged man in a hospital bed. Each one, some filled with fluid, some pumping, and most of them beeping and booping and flashing, created a chorus of noise that made Gabby wish for the simple hum of her untuned radio. Every device was hooked up to the man in some way or another with fluids coming and going in a truly disgusting display. At the far end of the bed, a nurse and a doctor stood looking over a chart, quietly whispering to each other. And, next to them, a gentleman in a black suit looked over his own chart while glancing occasionally at the man in the bed.
    "Hey." Gabby said with a wave, walking into the room.
    The medical professionals paid her no mind but the man in black glanced up and then locked eyes on Gabby.
    "Oh, come onnnnnn." he groaned, tossing the chart on a nearby chair.
    "Nice to see you too." she chuckled.
    "No. No it's not. Are we really going to do this?"
    Gabby glanced at the man in the bed and grimaced. He was in rough shape. It was truly a marvel that he was alive at all for the moment.  
    Bless modern medicine, she thought to herself.
    "Yes, we're really doing this, Az."
    "I just finished the paperwork!" he near-shouted in exasperation. "You can't just waltz in here and-"
    "I can."
    "But you can't-"
    "Yes, I can."
    "Can't."
    "Can."
    "Can't!"
    "Look, Az, I can and I will. I know we don't do this much anymore, but your department is just gonna have to deal with it. I'm doing my job and you know darn well that I am above you on these kinds of things."
    "But this is different!" Az complained. "He had a date! It was scheduled. You can't!"
    "Oh get off it before I call the big guy." Gabby said, turning away from him towards the man in bed. "Besides, what's worse? Filling out a report or having to complete the escort?"
    "Hmm. Well..." Az seemed to think, his annoyance turning thoughtful as he considered.
    "That's what I thought." she replied before settling next to the hospital bed, lifting her hand, and slapping the patient hard across the face.
    The man woke with a coughing gasp, vomit spitting up just a little around the edges of ventilator.
    "Holy-!" the doctor jumped.
    "Jesus!" the nurse chimed in, rushing to patient's side.
    "Can we get some help in here!" the doctor called before joining the nurse, working to get the ventilator out of the struggling man's throat. "It's gonna be alright, son. Calm down."
    From outside the room, the young boy peeked in and then tried to rush in before being caught up by his mother.
    "No, honey. Let them work."
    And work they did. With the patient machinations of the medical professionals, the man was quickly unhooked from a good majority of the machines that had been being used to keep him alive over the course of the next half hour. All the while, the boy and his mother continued to cry and watch, though it was clearly for a new reason.
    Relief.
    By the end of an hour, the three of them, the man, woman, and child, were crying together, embracing each other tightly in the father's bed.
    "I think we need to work on your subtlety." Az commented after finishing gathering up his things.
    "I can be subtle." Gabby retorted.
    "Clearly." Az shot back.
    "Easy, easy." the man complained from his bed as his wife squeezed him tighter. "You're choking me."
    The woman loosened her grip, but did little else to release her husband.
    "It's a miracle." she sobbed into his now tear-soaked hospital gown. "I don't know how but it's a miracle!"
    "I just choose not to be." Gabby continued. "They're not always supposed to be subtle."
    "Yea, yea." Az grumbled. "Wanna get some lunch?"
    "Sounds good."
    As the two began to make their way out of the hospital room, Gabby stopped to look back and realized that the little boy was no longer death-gripping his father but rather looked a bit more stoic. His eyes were closed tightly.
    "Thank you. Thank you so much." he whispered to Gabby, though he likely didn't know she could hear him.
    Gabby couldn't help but smile.
    "You got it, buster." she said, gently stroking the child's hair once more before turning and walking out with Az.
    "So, what're we thinking?" Az asked.
    "Anything but Ambrosia." Gabby answered with a grimace.
    "You still hate that stuff?"
    "When it's all you eat for a century or two, it gets old." 

===

Story submitted to Reedsy for their Weekly Writing Contest with the following Prompt: Write a story about someone whose job is to make miracles happen, literally or figuratively. 
 
https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/

Saturday, November 12, 2016

Rail Yard Ghost - Guest Author: Samantha Shattles


(Hello Lovelies: As promised, today you get to check out the tale from our guest author, Samantha Shattles. While I normally like to place my words to you at the end of the story, I feel the need to warn that the story in question is a bit more graphic than my own pieces, and I would say reader discretion is advised as the tell contains scenes of gore and suicide. If you're not comfortable with that, no worries whatsoever. You're welcome to return shortly for more Xenophobia. Otherwise, please enjoy the words of Samantha Shattles.

Please note: she currently doesn't have a site of her own, but maybe we can convince her to do so or to join RB Publishing. Either way. Enjoy.)

----

***WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT*** Trigger Warning: Suicide/Gore

We hunkered down in the thicket of wild blackberries next to the tracks. Matisse pulled off his boots and massaged his aching feet. Artemisia wrinkled her nose at the smell coming off her brother's socks. Dante opted to keep his boots on. He became more fascinated by the prospect of fresh produce. I, however, had my eyes glued to the tracks, almost shivering with anticipation at the thought of getting on another train.

"We won't be catching out from here," Dante said, popping a fat berry into his mouth. "Nothing but hotshots. Still gotta hike a ways down. It's an okay place to camp for the night though."

I nodded absently. I was still high on the rush, even though we'd been walking for two days. Dante nudged me, offering a few berries. I popped them into my mouth and felt my face shrivel up at the tartness of them. Better than nothing though.

"I need to piss," Artemisia announced, standing again and trudging off a distance.

"Hey, don't sit in it this time," Matisse called after her.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

The twins cackled in unison. I gave them a scathing look as I shoved another small handful of berries in my mouth. As a girl, going to the bathroom was difficult enough. Having boys around to remind you of mishaps made it that much worse. Artemisia didn't really need my help though. She had dealt with the two since she was four. They weren't even phased by my look.

Matisse waved it off. "She's not really mad. If she was she'd chuck a handful of hot shit on us both. Besides, what are little brothers for?"

A pain twisted in my chest and I looked away, struggling to swallow the fruit over the lump in my throat. I was not going to cry now. Crying wouldn't change a thing about what had happened. But, damn, I missed my own little brother. His cries rang in my skull and I could still almost feel his little arms around me from his last hug. There was no way of knowing if I made the right decision or if I made his life a living hell and there was nothing I could do even if I knew.

"Little brothers are not for pissing off their older sisters," Artemisia snapped, slapping Matisse upside the back of his head with a loud thwack. He just laughed as he rubbed the sore spot, Artemisia shaking out her sore hand. I managed a smile. It was nice to see Matisse laughing. He was too serious most of the time.

I nearly leapt out of my skin as hands cupped my face. Dante was staring at me with a great deal of concern, his thumbs wiping at my cheeks. I had hoped he wouldn't notice. But he did, like he always seemed to and I knew that he knew why I had fat tears rolling down my cheeks. He pressed his lips to mine, softly and chaste. My stomach fluttered but my heart twisted. I wanted to smile and break down at the same time. It was more emotion than I wanted to deal with. He pressed his forehead to mine, his fingers sliding into my hair.

"It's gonna be okay," he said softly. "It's gonna work out. Alex is never going to forget you or how much you love him. You'll see him again."

His other hand took my wrist and he gently stroked my brother's initials tattooed there. I wanted to believe he was right. It was just hard to see it the way he did. Alex was my life, my reason for living through the horrible things I endured. And now I didn't have him anymore. Dante had a lot of empathy for me because he missed his little sister, Georgia. But he knew he could go home whenever he wanted, while I was exiled, so he did his best to comfort me. All I could do was nod along to his words.

"We should play something. Cheer Fox right up," Artemisia chirped. Matisse was already opening his violin case. I nodded quickly at the suggestion. Nothing boosted my morale as much as watching the three of them play.

In no time the thicket was filled with their music: Matisse and his fiddling, Artemisia with her small banjo, and Dante on his travel guitar. Eventually, I joined in with my harmonica, stopping only to sing along to the songs I knew. Punk rock never sounded so good.

Between songs I heard the familiar high singing of the rails. A train was coming. I crawled out of the bushes to watch it go by. Aside from riding the freighters, nothing was better than feeling the blast of wind as one barreled by. Dante was right behind me. I could already see the bright orange engine down the line a ways. They must have spotted us too because the horn shattered the air, sending shivers up and down my body. I heard Dante chuckle.

That was when I saw her, crouched in the grass across the tracks and up the line from us. I'm not sure she saw us, but she probably knew we were there because of the music. I instantly got a bad feeling in my gut, though I wasn't sure why. The train horn blew again and the woman tensed. Dante's fingers curled around my arm and he tugged gently on me. I pulled away, wanting to see the train. It was almost to us, engines roaring and horn blasting. The woman stood up and Dante tugged on me again.

I made a sound as the woman threw herself in front of the train. She was trying to lay on the rail when it hit her with an audible THUMP. She flew a few yards towards us before hitting the ground, the train overtaking her quickly and running right over her. There was a mist of blood and screeching of emergency brakes being applied. Her torso, or what was left of it landed in front of us, dead eyes staring past me. I couldn’t tell if she had been pretty before now, she was just gore on the ground in front of me, around me. The smell was gagging me already.

"Holy shit," I heard Matisse say. "Holy fucking shit."

"We need to go," I heard Artemisia gag out.

I just stared at the pile of oozing meat at my feet. The train was slowing, the screeching deafening. Artemisia was trying not to vomit. Matisse was shuffling around behind me. Dante was talking. And the eyes rolled around one last time. I've lost my god-damned mind, I thought. My legs turned to jelly and I collapsed, screaming. At least, I think it was me screaming. My throat felt shredded after and I was fairly sure my lungs were inside out by the time I stopped. A few seconds felt like hours. Dante hauled me to my feet and gave me a good shake.

"Stop that! We have to go NOW," he barked. He was scared. He gathered me up against him and pulled me along back into the thicket. Matisse had his boots and pack on, looking ready to bolt. Artemisia had already started down the trail, not waiting for her brothers or me. Dante shoved my pack into my arms and pushed me along as he grabbed his own things. I stumbled over a rock and Matisse caught me before I could eat shit. I heard the train jolt to a halt finally as we followed Artemisia's tracks.

I was on autopilot. I had never seen anything so horrible in my life. Sure, I had cleaned up roadkill and half eaten, maggot infested rodents that my cats or coyotes had killed. But that been a person. I had just watched a person die. I saw a person get obliterated. And Dante had known it was going to happen. He had tried to pull me away from it.

I was numb for the rest of the day and well into the night. None of us felt like playing music when we finally made camp for the night. Artemisia, tough as nails, went a little ways from camp to cry privately. Matisse followed her just to watch her back in case of any big animals that might want to make a meal of her. I stayed with Dante while he made a fire. He was quiet while at his task. I sat cross legged with my pack in my lap, hugging it tightly.
 
"You knew," I said finally, my throat still hurting a bit.

He nodded.

"How?"

"Not the first time I've seen it," he sighed.
 
Not the first time? He had seen something that awful before? And he was okay? I reached out and touched his shoulder. He sighed again.

"It was while we were on the road. Some rest stop in gods only know where. My folks had stopped the bus. Smoke break. Pee break. Some kind of break. Matisse and I were maybe... 8? He was in the bathrooms with Mom and Artemisia. Dad was checking the engine or whatever and I wanted to help. A train was coming and I got excited. Then all the sudden, this guy got out of his car and just ran up to the tracks...."

I stared at him. He said nothing else, just prodded the log in our little camp fire with a big stick. I scooted closer to him until I was right against his side.

"I've seen people fall under trains while catching out," he continued. "Dumb first timers who read an article on it and thought they could do it. I've seen people killed at rail crossings because they were dumb enough to think they could actually beat a fucking train."

I put my head on his shoulder. He put his arm around me and sighed again, rubbing my shoulder gently. "I've seen a lot of shit, Foxy. A lot of shit. I'm sorry you had to see it too."

"Why do people do it like that," I asked, sadly. "It's so fucked up."

"It's fucked up any way you do it," he replied. "There is no clean way to kill yourself. You're always going to fuck up the people around you by doing it. Especially the person who is unfortunate enough to find you after."

I nodded. I had no room to talk. I had scars up and down my arm from trying to find a way out of my misery. No wonder Dante was reluctant to let me come out here with him and Matisse. He'd seen some shit. He was afraid I'd get an idea to do it. Maybe he was scared that seeing it would make me want to do it. I shuddered hard and his arm tightened around me as he prodded the log again.

"Do you think Artemisia is okay," I asked.

"She will be. She's never seen a suicide like that before but she's seen her fair share of shit. She will cry it out and then it'll be like it never happened. That's how she rolls."

"And Matisse?"

He shrugged. "Same as me."

"You?"

"Okay. I got you to look after. You?"

"I feel fucked up," I said, sullenly. "Like... I don't know how to describe it. It's just..."

I gave up trying to put it into words. His head rested on mine and I knew he didn’t expect me to keep trying to explain it. He already knew because he had been in my shoes before. I sighed and then yawned. I was exhausted but I had no desire to sleep. And definitely none to eat. Sex was also out of the question. I just stared into the fire until my eyes watered, hoping the heat would burn the image of gore out of my skull eventually. Booze sounded like a fantastic idea, but we were at absolute zero there too. There was nothing for it.

Sunday, October 16, 2016

The Rider


    Clinklck.
    Amanda put away her keys as she walked away from the darkened shop front. Her neck hurt. Her head hurt. Her back hurt. Everything hurt. Since Tomas had called out that afternoon, she had been at the shop open to close without backup.
    After thirteen hours on her feet, all she could think of was getting home. She wanted a warm bath and a soft bed.
    Looking out over the empty parking lot, she groaned loudly. In the rush of the day, she had completely forgotten to call for a ride to get home. With her car in the shop for the next week, her boyfriend had dropped her off in the morning, but with him working the evening shift there was no way he could come grab her now.
    Flipping through her phone, she curled up on the sidewalk for a moment and sent a barrage of text messages to the few friends she thought might be willing to pick her up.
    She'd just have to wait and see if anyone got back to her.
    Curled up on the curb outside of the shop, she watched as a fine mist slowly rolled over the parking lot. It started at the edge of the darkened forest and billowed out like a slow rolling wave that settled over the black asphalt. With it came a wet cold that left her teeth chattering in the dark of the moonless night.
    Come on...somebody get back to me.
    Ten minutes had passed when she decided to try to start calling over texting. First her sister. No answer. Then her friend Bethany. Straight to voicemail. Her roommate Joseph? No answer and a full voicemail box.
    Desperate, she dialed her boyfriend. All the while, she watched as the mist ever slowly thickened into fog that drifted about her in the darkness.
    "Sorry, hon." Cory said apologetically over the phone. "There's no way I can get there. One of the server's went down and we're doing everything we can to get it back up. I don't think I'm even going  to take a lunch."
    "It's ok, sweetie." Amanda said with a sigh. "At this point, I guess I'll just walk home."
    "Be careful." he said.
    "I will. It's only two miles away. I've done it before, it's just spooky at night."
    "I know. Just please be safe, baby." said Cory with that soft croon in his voice.
    "I will." she said again. "I love you."
    "I love you too."
    Amanda put away her phone and stood up, looking at the darkened road. It was also being slowly covered by that thick hanging fog that drifted off the forest's edge. Every now and again a car would drive by, but it was already getting so late that the roadways were quickly becoming abandoned.
     Ignoring the many complaints of her throbbing feet, she stepped onto the side of the road and headed homeward bound.
    As she walked, she pulled out her headphones and started to plug them in when she reconsidered. With the woods on one side and the roadway on the other; drifting, nightmarish thoughts of monsters coming out of the woods plagued her mind. The harder she watched the passing treeline, the more she imagined a giant werewolf or a horrible creature waiting in the fog to jump out at her. If she listened to music, she might not hear it coming.
    Stop being a pussy. she thought to herself before popping in her earbuds.
    The music helped ease the walk and drew her attention away from the pounding in her feet. It drew her attention away from the silent, darkened roadway and the eerie quiet that perpetuated the heavy fog.
    Despite this, she continued to watch the treeline. Sure, the night might have been playing tricks on her mind, but there was no harm in keeping a lookout...
    Had she seen something in there?
    Was something moving back behind that bush there?
    A flicker of movement caught her eye and she stopped cold on the side of the road. A shadow seemed to play across the underbrush and a branch flicked up and down.
    What was that?
    The bush rattled more and she saw a flash of something large and black that disappeared back behind a big tree.
    Instinctively she backed away from the treeline. Her eyes searched for the answer. Hunted for whatever it was she had seen. Was it a monster? A beast of some kind? No. It was just a shadow from...lights?
    Fully in the road, her back to it, the car swerved at the last second in a desperate attempt to avoid the young lady standing in the street. Amanda felt a sharp pain in her back as she flew forward towards the roadway.

    When she awoke, the road was cold and hard under her hands and her head and back hurt more than ever.
    Slowly pushing herself up, Amanda found that she was again alone in the road. No lights. No monsters in the bushes. Just skid marks in the street to indicate where the driver had tried to stop.
    That son of a bitch hit me and ran...
    Settling on the side of the road, she pulled out her phone to try and call the police. To her dismay, however, the phone was heavily cracked and refused to turn on.
    It must have been damaged in the accident.
    Tearing the back off her phone, she stared at the electronic components. The battery seemed in tact and nothing looked all that bad except for the screen. If she had known anything about electronics, maybe she could have done something more. For now, she simply sighed and closed it up again. She'd have to give it to Cory later.
    Clip clop clip clop.
    The sound echoed down the roadway.
    Clip clop clip clop.
    It got louder. Amanda could see nothing through the dense fog.
    Clip clop clip clop.
    Out of the fog, a thin, old man with jet black her and a heavy black overcoat appeared in the middle of the road. He rode atop the back of a tall, white horse.
    Amanda stared in disbelief. The closest farm she knew about was on the outskirts of town, a good few miles away, AND it was the middle of the night.
   "You alright, ma'am?" the man asked with a look of concern.
   "Yea, I..." she stopped herself. Who the hell was this guy? "I'm fine." 
   "You don't look it. You're bleeding." he said with a point towards her forehead.
    Amanda gingerly touched her head and her fingers came back red.  
    "What happened?" he asked with his brow furrowed.
    "I...I was in an accident."
    The old man nodded thoughtfully.
    "You're alone." He said. It was a statement, not a question.
    Amanda considered lying but simply agreed. Sitting on the side of the foggy street in the middle of the night, it was clear no one was with her.
    "I was walking home from work." she said shakily. "I just live about a mile up the road."
    "Alright. Come on." he said, patting the horse's read-end. "Hop on up and I'll get you where you're going."
    "I...are you serious?"
    "Would you rather walk?"
    "Don't take this the wrong way, but I have no idea who you are."
    "Fair enough." he said with another nod. "But it'd be wrong of me to leave you out here wandering the road."
    As if on cue, a chill ran up her spine. Looking around, the darkened roadway with its heavy, cold fog and the woods on either side suddenly felt a lot more foreboding than before.
    "At least let me walk with me until you get where you're going. It would be wrong for me to leave you out here." he said.
    Why should I trust you? Where are you from? Why are you out here so late?
    She had to wonder if she had a concussion. Maybe the car did more damage then she thought. Despite the hundreds of questions flooding her mind, all that could come out of her mouth was...
    "Ok."
    The old man smiled in return.
    Amanda stood up, dusted herself off, and walked up to the man on the horse. Getting closer, she noticed now that the horse wasn't actually white, but appeared almost a pale green. A trick of the light?
    "Would you like to pet him?" the man asked.
    Despite her reservations, Amanda smiled and nodded. The horse nickered happily as she ran a hand down his soft neck and through his flowing mane.
    "Let's get going." he said and, side by side, they headed down the road.

    The next morning Cory cried harder than he could ever remember doing.
    "She asked me to drive her home." he said between sobs. "B-b-but... I was so busy. I just...I didn't think...I couldn't..."
    "It's ok." said the officer. "Please. If you need anything, don't hesitate to contact us."
    "I'm so sorry." said the older man sitting across from Cory. "It was so foggy... I didn't see her. I couldn't see her. I have no idea why she was in the middle of the road."
    "No one's blaming you, Bert." said the officer.
    "N-no." was all Cory could muster.
    "The ambulance did all they could." continued the officer. "Tried to resuscitate her for twenty minutes right there in the middle of the street. She was already gone when she arrived...I'm so sorry..."
    Clutching the shattered remains of Amanda's cellphone, all Cory could do was cry harder.

"And lo, upon a hill I saw a pale horse, and a pale rider upon it.
The name of the horse was Pestilence. And the name of the rider was Death."

===

(Hello lovelies, I know that today was a break from my regular stream of Xenophobia, but I do hope you enjoyed. Today, I had the pleasure of visiting the Guillermo Del Toro exhibit at LACMA art museum in Los Angeles. As you might have guessed, something I saw got under my skin and the result was this simple little piece. I do hope you enjoyed it.)