by Paula Jeffery
“It’s bullshit, that’s what,” Mark half shouted into his phone. This was his third time being sent home this week. His car had broken down on his way home, so he got out and took his wallet and phone, and his beloved pack of cigarettes. He would have enjoyed the rest of his shift if only it weren’t for that bastard Nick.
Mark was forced to take the bus home. Dusk was fast approaching. The air was warm, which caused Mark to break out in a sweat in his work jeans. The wind seldom came to cool it down; it would have been a perfect August evening if only Mark had his car and his most beloved air conditioning.
“Honey, why don’t you talk to your supervisor?” Kristen says. Mark rolled his eyes in annoyance. Her suggestions always grated on his ears. He didn’t dislike his wife per se, but he didn’t enjoy being around her most of the time. This is just what marriage does, Mark thought. You just get sick of your partner, that’s it, as he likes to rationalize it.
“You know why I can’t do that,” he replied, his tone short.
“If Nick keeps egging you on like that,” she paused, thinking of the possibilities, “you could be fired.”
“I’ve been there longer than he has.” Mark put out his cigarette onto the bus sign pole. He was getting sick of the taste of that one anyway.
“Yes, I know, but-“
“I shouldn’t be fired,” Mark interrupts her. A loud sigh came from the other end of the phone. She was always like this, Mark thought.
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“I have to go.” He hung up the phone and pulled out another cigarette. Just three cigarettes were left in his pack. He exhaled the smoke, and the ashy taste became a saddening relief. Now that he was finally alone, he could enjoy some peace and quiet.
His phone buzzed, alerting him out of his peace. Looking down at the phone, the screen lit up, revealing a text from Kristen. It read, “There’s been a lot of deaths happening in the area.” Mark sighs, exhaustion clearly spreading on his face. Why did she do this, Mark thought. Does she purposely want to annoy me?
He typed up his response and hit send. It read, “I’ll be fine.”
After a few seconds of the text bubbles, she finally sends her response. “You’ve changed.” Mark shut off his phone and put it in his pocket, hoping to conserve the battery. The argument that usually followed wasn’t worth the energy right now. It could wait until he got home, whatever she meant about his changing.
The streetlights kicked on, illuminating the bus stop. Not a single soul dared to venture into the dark. Mark was standing all by himself on the street corner. Shouldn’t there be others still at this time of night? Why was no one else here?
The bus stop was unfamiliar. The neighborhood was mostly left alone; only a few houses had their lights on. Others were either boarded up or had for-sale signs littered in the yards. Mark looked up and down the street, not a single person outside. No laughter, no talking, just silence. A silence that sets you off, the kind of silence that makes you squirm. A dog barked in the distance while the bugs sang their songs. It should have been peaceful, but instead, the calmness of it all had set something off in him. Goosebumps danced across his arms, and the hair stood up.
He couldn’t be the only one out here. Unease invaded his senses, and a nagging voice in the back of his mind was yelling at him. The voice told him that he should look behind him. If he just turned around, another person would be approaching the stop. Mark didn’t hear any footsteps, nothing to indicate that anyone else was there. So, why did he feel this way? There had to have been someone watching him from behind; he just knew if he looked back he’d see them.
He just needed to build courage. If only he could look behind him. If only the fear disappeared. His hands were shaking as he reached to take the cigarette out of his mouth. His heartbeat grew louder, like a drum against his chest. The eyes of this stranger stabbed right through him. Mark could feel the breathing on his neck. Despite the heat, a shiver went down his spine, chilling him to his core.
From the corner of his eye, a loose hair brushed past him. In the dark, the color blended in, matching the darkness all around him. It did not look entirely human. It was more akin to tendrils than anything else. Am I about to be mauled to death by an animal, Mark thought. His palms begin to sweat, and at any moment, his phone and cigarettes would slip out. He brought his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. One more inhale of his cigarette, and then he’d put it out again. Besides, the bus was going to be here soon. He could wait until it pulls up for him. Then, this hell that he was experiencing would end.
The goosebumps, the breathing down his neck, and the uneasy feeling in his gut were pulling at him. Mark could only take so much before he snaps. In a quick movement, he turned around, hoping to face whatever this thing was. Yet, when he turned, no one was there. No one was standing behind him; no one was breathing down his neck at all. He was bewildered. Did he just imagine it?
As if on cue, the headlight from the bus blinds him. It is that bright white light all the new cars have; Mark hated them with every fiber of his being. He’d complained about his fair amount to Kristen on long drives about them.
The bus came to a stop in front of Mark. He looked behind him as he stepped onto the bus, the lingering feeling of someone watching him never leaving. A wave of cold air blasted him; a welcome new edition to these buses. The bus was illuminated with those disgusting blue lights. Only a few people stayed; they were all in separate parts of the bus. An older woman, worn beyond her years, sat behind the driver. Her purse was tucked close to her lap. On the right side of the platform, a young couple sat together, whispering. I had been like that once, Mark thought. Oh, to be young again.
Only one passenger had caught his attention. A young woman is sitting in the very back of the bus on the right side. She was a pretty thing, with dark hair that he couldn’t tell whether it was a dark brunette or black. Whatever it was, it managed to shine brightly in the dismal lighting. She has doe eyes that calls you in, or at least that’s what Mark could guess. Her gaze wasn’t on anything beyond the window beside her.
Kristen had been beautiful when she was young. Similar to this woman, she had that innocent beauty. It’s what drew Mark in when they first met. He could visualize the day he met her, her long blonde hair flowing behind her, the Halloween costume she wore at a college party. His mind went back to her comment. What did she mean by changing? When had she been the one to change? She was more tired, less likely to do anything with him. She didn’t even care to hide the graying hair. Truth was, Mark thought that he hadn’t really changed that much over the years.
Mark never took his eyes off her, not even when he paid the bus fare and sat down behind the couple. The seat he chose was close to this woman, but not nearly as close as he would like. He sat on the left side, with the seats facing each other in the back. He could see in the window in front of him, the same one the woman was looking at. He didn’t dare look at the window; instead, his eyes remained on her. Though he was sure she didn’t notice his eyes lingering on her. She never looked away from that window.
What could have been so interesting to look at only there? What could capture this girl’s interest so intensely? He could not deny the allure that this girl had; that’s all it was. She didn’t even move or anything when the bus continued its route. Did she notice him? All these questions ran through his head, and the best way to speak to her. Maybe it was for the best for him to leave her be for a few minutes.
The ride was nothing out of the ordinary. Houses pass by, people standing outside their homes. Some others were having a bonfire. God, when was the last time Kristen and I had a fire, Mark thought. Bonfires in their backyard had been a normal occurrence at one time. The argument that had ensued between Mark and Kristen about his friends being there lingers in his mind. Maybe he could convince her to let them come back over. It wasn’t likely, though; Kristen hated his friends.
That night was like any other summer night; the day was blistering hot, but the night was cool. Mark invited a couple of his friends over for a fire and some beers. With each passing a joint that someone had brought, Mark couldn’t remember who it was. He recalled the lightness, the pungent pine and slight skunk smell that had filled the air around them. What could one want more than this?
“I gotta tell you, Mark,” Daniel said, sitting across from him. “Kristen used to be such a looker.”
“Tell me about it,” Mark laughed. He laughed at everything that night.
“I can’t ever get married,” Andrew, who sat on the right side of Mark, said. “How can you stay with someone for so long?”
“She does all the cleaning,” Mark joked. He liked the fact that Kristen had done all the chores in the house. His only chore was working, and he just got to sit back. Kristen was less a wife and more a maid to him.
“How can I get my girlfriend to do that?” Andrew joked. “She’s always complaining that I don’t do anything.”
Standing in the doorway to the backyard was Kristen. She always went unnoticed by the men when they were there; each of their voices was grating to her ears. Mark knew full well how they treated her and spoke about her. Yet, he didn’t care. Andrew’s gaze went unnoticed by Mark, staring straight at Kristen like she was prey.
“Mark?” Kristen called out. Mark turned around, finally noticing his wife, and more importantly, the angry expression she wore.
“What is it, babe?”
“Can you come here?”
Mark groaned as he stood up. The fifth beer that he had rushed to his head, causing the world to spin around him. The walk towards the kitchen very well could have been his last steps, if he played his cards right. Luckily, he’s done this countless times.
The cold air hit him as he walked into the kitchen. The snacks were left on the granite countertops; chip bags were left open, and several beer bottles had littered the countertops. He was in for it.
“What’s up?” He asked as soon as he closed the door.
“I don’t like your friends,” she responded.
“This right now?”
“Do you not see the way Andrew looks at me?”
“What?” He asked, his eyebrow raised.
“How can you not see the way he leers at me?” She responded, her tone short. Anger was bubbling inside of her.
“So a guy can’t look at anything anymore?” Mark sighed, making his way to grab another beer from the fridge. The entire time, he avoided her gaze. The case he had just purchased was close to empty. I will have to put more on the grocery list, he thought.
“Excuse me?” Kristen spoke again; the agitation was clear in her tone.
“I think you’re just being overdramatic,” he responded. What was so bad about a man expressing his opinions?
“Why can’t you just listen to me?”
“I’m listening right now,” he joked.
“You’re not listening,” she spoke sternly.
“You’re just being overdramatic.”
“Can’t you please just ask them to stop?” Her voice was almost pleading, begging Mark to do anything to help her.
“They’re just jokes,” he responded. “Can we not joke around anymore?”
“If you won’t do something,” she sighed and slammed her fist on the counter. “Then they can’t come over to my house anymore.”
The older woman pulled the request stop wire that dragged Mark out of his thoughts. They were heading to a stop in front of an apartment complex. It could have been a decent place to live, but Mark was thankful for owning a house. Well, the house was in Kristen’s name.
Mark looked back to the young woman in the corner, still unmoving as she stared out that window. His eyes follow along the lines of her body, noticing the white sundress she wore, the brown messenger bag clutched at her side. Still, she remains unaware of her surroundings. Was she going home? Going to a friend?
These questions kept buzzing in his head. Even when the bus stops the second time. He watched as the couple stepped off the bus into the night. He knew the area well; he walked it every day with the dog. The block had always been quiet; the stop stood at the corner of two streets filled with homes. It was a strange stop for him, but he learned not to question it.
Mark looked again at the woman; she was not moving just yet. This could be my chance, Mark thought. In a quick movement, he moved from his spot to the seat near her. He left a seat between them, so he didn’t seem desperate. It should leave enough room for her to hear him.
She was prettier up close. Her skin was soft and smooth. She could not be older than twenty-two. She hadn’t been touched by old age yet. He couldn’t help but compare Kristen’s body at her ripe age of thirty-six to this girl. There was the youthfulness that Mark had missed in Kristen all in this girl. She reminded him heavily of Kristen when they first met. She was beautiful then, according to Mark. This girl was much prettier in his eyes. What he wouldn’t give to see a smile on this girl’s face.
Even while he moved, the girl didn’t notice him. Mark raises a questioning eyebrow. His movement wasn’t subtle; there was no way she didn’t notice his body move closer to hers. Maybe she would notice him if he spoke to her.
“Hey,” he leaned over, closer to her. From this angle, he caught a whiff of her perfume, a heavenly sweet scent. She ignored him, leaving Mark baffled. How could she ignore him? Did she have headphones that he just couldn’t see?
“It’s a little dangerous for a pretty girl like you to be out here,” he tried again. She turned over, stared at him with a blank expression. Her eyes, a dark, almost black, were weirdly void of emotion, but Mark chose not to pay attention to them. Instead of saying a simple “thank you”, she turned her head back to the window. Mark raised his eyebrow, confusion written all over his face. Who did she think she was? Ignoring someone like that? He scoffed and turned away.
“Hello? I just said you’re pretty,” he said.
The girl turned to face him again, looking him up and down, and said: “Your wife wouldn’t like that.”
Even her voice was pretty and soft, like a song that he couldn’t shake. She stares at him intensely, and Mark fails to notice the way that she clutches her bag even tighter. He fails to see the way that the hair on her arms stood straight up. He raises an eyebrow, confused until he realizes he still has his wedding band on.
“Nothing wrong with a compliment.”
She scoffs and looks back to her window and raises her arm, and pulls the request cable. The bus slows down to a stop, and Mark realizes that this was his stop. So, we shared a stop, he realized.
He stood up as she did and followed her out into the world. She walked to the right of him, and he started to make his way left. Something inside told him to stop and look back. He saw her walk away, and a deep ache inside of him told him to go. He could feel the string pulling at him towards her. He groaned and turned right towards her direction.
“Hey!” He shouted as he started to run her way. She continued on her way, clutching the bag even tighter. Mark almost got to her, but no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t completely catch up to her. She never sped up, never slowed down, she just stayed at the same pace. He shouted out again and was met with the same treatment.
It was dark outside now, and the moon was coming out, bright as the shining sun. It lit his view of his path towards this girl, who was still walking away from him. He could wait to go home; this was important.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” Mark said. Suddenly, the girl stopped in her tracks. Her head turned, and her eyes were no longer those of a human. A bright gold replaced her once brown eyes. She was visibly shaking; he couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or from fear. A low grumbling came from her, sounding like a dog’s growling. She collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain.
Mark stood, watching, paralyzed in fear. Nothing about this appeared to be human. It wasn’t normal. That voice inside of his mind came back to him, telling him to run. He needed to run, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off the girl.
Her legs and arms made a sickening cracking sound. Twisting in ways that shouldn’t have been normal. He was transfixed, mesmerized. Her skin began to shed from her, revealing a dark fur underneath. A long snout grew from her face, and more fur grew around her skin. A snarl coming from that new snout.
After a long few moments, a beast stood in front of him. Snarling, drool leaking from that horrible snout. It was hard to believe that the mess of skin and fur in front of him was once that beautiful girl. She was replaced with a horrible, large dog-like beast making its way towards him.
He turned to run, finally listening to his fear. He had to get out of there; he had to get back home. He could have a nice cold beer from the new case he bought. He could watch the game that he had missed earlier.
He ran back past the bus stop, getting close to his house. He could make it; he wasn’t that far from his home. The beast was behind him, a loud growling sound, catching up. It took a swipe with its paws, large claws sticking out. It made contact with his arm, and bright red flowed from the freshly made marks. He fell to the ground, where the beast made its way over him. It roared in his face as it pinned him to the ground. The musky odor filled his nostrils, causing him to gag. Its teeth were as sharp as a knife, and caused him to tremble. Its teeth made contact with his neck, causing a burning hot pain to shoot through him. The world began to spin as the blood seeped out.
Mark tried to kick the beast off, but its hold became tighter. Another wave of pain shot through him, and he couldn’t cry out. He couldn’t even cry as it began to drag him into a darkened street, behind a home, where no one could see him. He couldn’t cry out as it tore at his skin; he could only stare up at that bright, big moon. The pain was the only thing that could comfort him as he had died.
The beast had made a mess of Mark. It left his torn clothing in the yard, with torn flesh and blood decorating the grass and siding. Not much of him was left when the police found what remained after the animals picked at him. The beast never left a single piece of evidence that she was there at the scene. As soon as she was done, the moon went back behind a cloud, and she was back to being a human. She walked away without a single ounce of remorse for Mark. To go on to make another kill.
Paula Jeffery is a current Youngstown State University student studying English. When she isn’t writing, shes consuming folklore and Urban Legends and daydreaming about mythical worlds. She loves to write cuddled up with her two cats, her biggest fans. Her favorite stories tend to contain monsters and myths.