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.