A Commuting Story

Marc sat in the usual seat on the usual bus home at the usual time in the evening.

After a long day he was not in the mood to read. He put his fifty-nine year old copy of The Great Gatsby to one side and began staring out of the window. The low dulcet tones of the voice in his ears coupled with the monotonous rumbling of the bus lulled him towards a sleep-like state. The buildings of the city blurred together and then began fading into the outer-urban landscape. Somewhere in the transfer Marc's eyes closed.

They rolled back behind the lids, covering Marc's vision in a dull sepia tone. A soothing sight for a soothed mind. Then suddenly darkness. Utter and complete darkness as if the sun had been destroyed and perpetual black had fallen.  This abrupt change caused a tremor of shock to run through Marc's mind. He had no position, no thoughts, no context and no existence in this sudden darkness. Marc quickly opened his eyes (out of shock more than fear) and the world reformed around him. The tunnel rolled back past the top of the bus and completely out of view. 

It was as if his mind had broken and restarted itself. He could describe the sight outside the window; the concrete barriers and sterile grasslands. But they now meant something else. The words may have remained, but their essence was different. Marc saw the bridge and put his book back into his bag. He pressed the stop button and got off the bus at the usual stop at the usual time.

But nothing was usual ever again.

-The English Student

The Revenant

It is a dark scene on the streets of our capital city.

Any watcher in the area could see me now as I sprint through the rain-soaked streets. From the park I look to be a blur, rushing along the iron railings. A person in a passing car could notice my slight frame barreling towards the city centre. Eyes from the adjacent apartment block could see my steady trajectory through the storm. But this place is empty. There is no-one in the park, no passing cars and certainly no watching eyes.

There is, however, a mouth. I can just make it out now, moving around the corner ahead of me. Tall, hooded and dark, the bleak figure is running with an alarming pace. I cannot make out much in these conditions, only it's large mouth, split wide open in a silent scream and two enormous arms reaching out vertically above it. A solitary syllable comes to mind: "Run".

But where to run? The figures are quickly multiplying all around me, identical demons with shrouded faces. The street is now a swarm of these hooded creatures. I am surrounded by their horrid mouths that rend my soul to shreds in the unbroken silence. But one is now stepping forward. "You wanted pain. You wanted misery and hate. You even wanted death." These words whisper to my ear from that ghastly hole in the creature. The brief pause is again broken by the figure's guttural tone:

"We are what you desire."

-The English Student