He wasn't sure what he wanted, other
than her. Erik knew nothing else. The sweet smell of her, vanilla,
wafted towards him from her skin and her tangled red hair. It was
nothing short of intoxicating. It already started to addle his brain
and he didn't even know her. She had sat in front of him on the train
every weekday for the last week. The first day he barely registered
her, but then after the second and third days, he could barely keep
from staring at her the second she entered the cabin. She sure made
his daily commute more pleasant. Erik knew that at some point, he
should introduce himself, but today wasn't that day. “Not today,”
he mused to himself, rerouting his thoughts back to the meeting he
had to attend today with the Big Shots. He tried to relax into the
seat, which was actually comfortable for a commuter train, but he was
on pins and needles. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the
coming onslaught of questions he would face.
And then there was a loud screeching
sound, accompanied by a keening wail that nearly drove him insane.
Erik stood up quickly and braced himself against the woman's seat, of
which she was not occupying. He stood mesmerized as the train skidded
to a halt, the passengers braced themselves for impact, while others
had coffee fly out of their hands, pastries fall to the floor, and
some even fell themselves as the train stopped and the emergency
lights went out. Everyone was covering their ears with their hands,
except for Erik, who stood mesmerized, and the woman who stood in the
middle of the aisle, her hands at her sides, red hair flying all
about, her mouth open-wide in a loud scream. “Oh my god,: he
thought, “she's a banshee. Fuck, who's about to die,” he turned
around and surveyed the car. As he did, he saw the dark shadows coming
for a male passenger two rows ahead, a twenty-something Hispanic man
who was sitting in his seat, praying softly to his god, his head in
his hands, blood pouring down his face. Erik ran forward, carefully
brushing past the banshee, and hunched down by the man, who brought
his head up. “Buddy, my name is Erik, it's going to be okay,” he
put his left hand on the man's knee and brought his handkerchief out
from his coat with his right hand, which he carefully placed on the
gushing head wound. The man put his hands in his lap, smearing blood
all over his jeans. “What's your name son,” he asked clearly,
concerned. The man slowly brought his eyes to Erik's and gave a weak
smile, blood dripping into his mouth. “My name is
Henry....Henry...am I...am I going to die,” he asked sincerely,
glancing to the left side where the banshee still screamed. Erik
steadied himself. “Yes, Henry, you are. That woman screaming over
there, she is going to collect your soul and take you to God. Keep
praying, Henry, you're going to pass over,” he gave Henry a comforting squeeze with his left hand, still holding the kerchief to the man's head. Henry nodded and reached up with his right hand to
take the kerchief. He stood up slowly, which Erik did as well,
steadying him. Together they walked towards the banshee, her wail
still going strong, the other passengers still lying on the floor.
What felt like minutes really took seconds. Erik knew that the whole
scene would be frozen until the banshee collected her soul. He nodded
his head reassuringly at Erik as they reached her. She instantly stopped screaming and spun around to them. “Henry Josef Alves come
with me,” she spoke in a soft alto, reaching out towards him. Henry
folded into her waiting arms and smiled as his soul was sucked into
the vacuum of the Ever After that she held within her. Erik stood
there quietly, silently mourning the loss of the soul he had just
met. There was a brilliant flash that shook the whole cabin, there
was an eerie sigh that Erik recognized, and then time unfroze and
Henry was gone. The lights flickered, the conductor's voice came
through overhead, and the passengers, now assured that they were
okay, settled back into their seats. All expect Erik and the banshee,
who stood facing each other with weary smiles. The train started up
again, the brakes screeching as they let go, and soon they were
barreling towards Boston yet again. Erik and the woman stared at each
other, both leaning against their respective rows. Finally, Erik
cleared his throat and offered his right hand to her. “I'm Erik
Lewis, pleased to meet you,” he said, as she delicately took his
hand and squeezed it gently. “Avonlea, please call me Lea,” she
said, her voice soft, her red hair settling on her shoulders, her
blue eyes shining. “Come, sit with me Erik Lewis,” she gestured
him to set next to her. “Okay, sure,” he said, reaching down to
grab his messenger bag before coming around and sitting to her left.
***
That's it so far and if anyone steals it, I will find you and run you over.
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