As Jaime stepped out of the shower, his rail thin body dripping, he reached for a towel. The loose metal towel rack jangled as he took it and put it to his face. The musty odors of showers past assaulted his nostrils so he let the towel drop on the chipped yellowed linoleum. Deciding to drip dry, he hoped he had a clean shirt. It had been awhile since he had the chance to do laundry.
Still naked and damp, he walked across the motel room, not caring that he had clothes, books, and dirty magazines everywhere. No one came to see him, and after one fateful night, the nosy manager judiciously decided to leave him alone. They hadn’t asked for rent in two months. All they cared about was that he was quiet and didn’t bother the other guests.
As he approached the window, the shades snapped closed violently. Apparently, he had forgotten to close them before jumping in the shower. Not that he cared. No one looked at him, and if they did, no good came from it. He ignored the sudden movement of the heavy curtains and rooted through a pile of clothes near the stale and uncomfortable bed. He found a black t-shirt that looked clean enough and dug around for a pair of pants. Both he tossed on the bed. They barely touched the mattress before flying off in a scattered fury.
The young man sighed and sat on the bed. “You’re in a mood tonight.” Faint whispers scratched at the air around him. Another person might have mistaken them as voices from the adjacent room, but he knew better. This voice was his burden. And it remained always nearby.
“Listen, I need you to calm down tonight. I’m meeting someone.” He said to the unseen voice as he stared at nothing in particular. The atmosphere in the room grew thick, and even a casual observer would feel of the prickly oppression of the presence in the room.
“It’s not a date, so don’t even. It’s just a friend. They offered dinner and it would be nice to have a decent meal.” As he spoke the scratching voice grew more agitated. Things in the room began to vibrate. A smeared glass rattled loudly while loose change clattered to the floor from a nightstand.
“Okay fine, it is a date. What of it? Can’t I meet someone, have a good time for five fucking minutes,” he growled. Something growled back and the room shook harder. “Don’t give me that! I can’t survive like this! If I don’t do something besides lock myself in this motel room with you, I’m going to blow my brains out!”
The room stopped vibrating and everything calmed. He had learned not to trust it. Jaime’s bursts of frustration could placate it, or agitate it further. His onus phantom might be gloating or sulking and neither could be pleasant. Pressing on, he gathered his clothes and quickly slid them on. After a long hunt for his shoes, he yelled at the empty air to stop hiding them. A sullen moment passed before two battered thrift store boots slid out from under the bed.
Running a brush through his shaggy brown-black hair, he stared at himself in the mirror and winced. He did not look good. Sallow and emaciated, the brown of his eyes swam in a sea of reds and yellows. “I did not get this date on my good looks.”
He figured this was probably a pity date, or someone who collected strays like kindly grandmothers do commemorative plates. They’ll have a story and a memory tinted in rose, and he’ll have been ‘blessed’ by their presence.
“She might just want to get to know you. Is it so outlandish that someone be interested in you?” He berated the reflection. A whisper in his ear told him otherwise. “I have more to my life than you, Eli.” He snapped at the whisper but he didn’t believe the words, and the laughter in his ear didn’t make it any better. Swatting at the air, he left the bathroom.
“I suppose it’s too much to ask that you stay here while I’m gone. To have just a couple hours to myself would be the best for both of us. Can we do that? We’ve done it before and it was fine. This time won’t be any different. I’ll come back, same as always.” He paused, heard his name in the air.
“Jaime. Jaime.” It could have been said in love, or possibly hate. After this long, they sounded the same.
“I’ll be back. Just stay here.” Jaime said, knowing it wouldn’t do any good.
***
“I’m so glad you came, Jaime. I almost thought you were going to stand me up.” Quinn pushed a strand of red hair from her face. Her bright blue eyes shone like sparkling ice. Those big orbs radiated such a genuine pleasure to see him that he nearly turned away. No one wanted to see him. If they did, they changed their mind about it quickly, thanks to Eli.
“How could I stand up someone like you,” he said, attempting to be charming. As much as he looked forward to this date with Quinn, he nearly backed out. Transferring buses to make the date, some careless kid bumped into him, hard. Jaime ignored it but the kid went sprawling in front of the bus, tripping over something that wasn’t there. Jaime hissed Eli’s name under his breath. Again, he thought this might be a bad idea but continued out of pure stubbornness. Eli had too much leeway lately and Jaime decided that it might be time to put his foot down.
He had first met Quinn at a small mom and pop grocery store as Jaime stuffed as much food as he could conceal in his ratty jacket pockets. Quinn rounded the corner, looking to put away an unwanted can of corn. Nervous and sure he had been caught red-handed, Jaime started a stammering conversation as a distraction. Somehow, it was enough to win her over. They agreed to meet later at a small café to have coffee and talk
“I’m so glad we decided to meet up,” she said as they took a seat at the metal patio set along the sidewalk. Jaime agreed with her but had nothing else to say beyond that. They ordered a coffee each and Quinn added a small coffee cake. Doing his best to keep from staring at it, he shushed his rumbling stomach. Despite the food he had stolen, he hadn’t eaten any of it yet.
“Do you even eat?” Quinn asked jokingly. She split the cake in half and slid it over to him. He politely thanked her and forced himself to only nibble at it. He made up a story about how his entire family stayed small and thin, regardless of diet. She had no idea how much he lied to her. His family tended to be tall and fat, a robust group of jolly northwesterners. He came out short and scrawny with a tendency towards sickly. The lies were a second nature and came as easily as any of his other survival skills.
Her charm affected him the way he had hoped. He momentarily forgot the daily hell of his life and forgot about Eli. Quinn pulled her long red hair back in a casual sort of elegance. She wore an overpriced Jimi Hendrix t-shirt and black leggings. When he first met her, he assumed she was some college student, but now realized he had misjudged her age by almost a decade, making her older than him by nearly as much. Just a single suburbanite woman living her life and trying to make some positive connections. The age didn’t bother him, she was attractive and he enjoyed her company.
He continued to dance around the truth despite how much he began to like her. “I travel around a lot, so unfortunately I have a hard time getting close to people.” Not a lie.
“I help build retail stores before they open.” A lie. Occasional day laboring stretched the amount of commitment he safely handled.
“I’ve seen a lot of different cities.” Not a lie.
“It seems that I’m always alone.” The biggest lie he had told her so far. His entire life Eli always hovered near.
Time slipped past unnoticed and with nothing left of the coffee and cake but memories, Quinn stood up. The sky had turned purple and the night crowd began to file by them. Jaime stood up with her, thanking her profusely for the food and drink. Eli’s restlessness made the air sharp around him. He needed to leave soon, so he thanked her again and said his goodbyes.
“No,” Quinn said with a wide smile. “You’re coming with me. Family genetics or not, you look way too thin.” Jaime had forgotten his lie of coming from a thin family gene pool. It must have showed on his face because she laughed a tinkling little laugh. “I’m going to cook you dinner. I love to cook and haven’t had anyone to cook for lately. C’mon.”
Panic locked Jaime up. He shouldn’t go home with her, not with Eli here. Frantically he tried to formulate a polite way of backing out. He liked her, he liked her a lot, and that made it even more important to decline. She took his hand. Her long spidery fingers, soft and warm, wrapped around his. She jerked her head invitingly towards the street and smiled.
Closing his eyes and forcing a smile of his own, he conceded. His heart sank as he did so. In his mind, he apologized to her, but said nothing. Behind him, he heard a chair tip over on its own. Quinn started at it, but laughed it off unaware of the grumpy spirit that accompanied them.
Before they slipped into her older model Lexus, she explained pointedly that while she enjoyed his company, and enjoyed cooking for others, it did not guarantee sex. He respected her directness, and as much as he wouldn’t mind wrapped in her arms and legs, a home cooked meal sounded just as heavenly.
Pulling into traffic, she explained that she had bought the car as a present to herself, years ago, after a particularly tragic long-term relationship ended. It reminded her not to define herself by others. While Jaime appreciated her outlook, he only half-listened. He cursed himself for agreeing to this. He didn’t want to see anyone get hurt. The urge to decline welled up again when they drove past the shitty motel he lived in. Less than a mile later, they turned onto a quiet residential street. He took a small comfort in knowing he wasn’t far from home.
***
“You don’t need to do all that,” Jaime protested. Quinn had all manner of pots and pans out, ingredients scattered across the counter, and two aprons in her hands.
“Help me. Let’s see how good you are in a kitchen,” she offered an arched eyebrow and an apron. The chances of him not having to jerk himself off to sleep were good but experience told him otherwise. Taking the apron, they began to cook.
Eli had remained strangely calm so far. Jaime prayed that it continued. On the stove noodles boiled while they chopped vegetables. Chicken seared and sauce simmered. The two laughed a lot, drank some wine, and relaxed a little. Things were going well until Quinn asked about Jaime’s family, specifically any siblings. Jaime admitted that he had siblings, but they had died young. He thought little of it, being a common question, but soon realized that Eli had recognized the discussion and loomed near. Eli’s continued inactivity gave him hope so Jaime attempted to steer the conversation to less volatile waters, so as not to tempt fate. Instead, fueled by sympathy, wine, and mutual attraction, Quinn when into for a kiss.
Their lips met and time stopped. Her soft mouth on his, the sweet acrid taste of wine, sweat, and the pureness of the moment made for pure bliss. The bliss lasted less only a few seconds before a sudden clatter caused them to part. The dishes from the counter crashed to the floor at their feet. Depression, his only other companion besides Eli, chased away what little happiness that blossomed inside of him. Time and experience told him what came next.
“What the hell?” Quinn said startled. “How did that-“
“I better go,” Jaime didn’t even let her finish. If he left now, he could minimize the damage. “Thank you for everything, really. I should go.” She laughed it off and made a joke about the place being haunted, and turned to stir the sauce. Again, Jaime told her he needed to go.
“Are you sure you want to go? This will be delicious.” She pulled the wooden spoon out of the pot to let him taste but another sound drew their attention. He didn’t bother to look; Jaime knew what a knife sounded like when embedded into a wall at high velocity. Quinn, now frightened grabbed his hand, questioning why a large knife was now sticking straight out of her kitchen wall. “What the hell is going on?”
***
Sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of half prepared pasta in front of him, Jaime sighed. Around him, blood dried on the walls and the carpet. He took a forkful of pasta, red sauce dripping off. He recognized the irony and appreciated it sourly.
After Quinn asked him what was going on, Jaime took his hand from hers and made one step towards her front door. She looked up at him just in time to have an invisible hand slap her so hard she spun completely around.
“Eli.” Jaime warned with a menacing snarl. He took another step backwards.
“What the fuck?” Quinn turned to him, hurt and anger in her eyes. Jaime grabbed her and flung her to the side before the pan of sizzling chicken could hit her dead in the face. He couldn’t get her out of the way of the fork that implanted itself into her back. Neither could he stop her from being wrested from his hands. She flew across the kitchen counter and landed hard in the dining room just short of her Swedish made dinner table. Sputtering for the breath knocked out of her, she attempted to steady herself with a nearby dining chair. It jerked out of her way and she fell again. Jaime wanted to close his eyes, but knew he would have no choice but to watch.
“Eli, stop it!” he yelled. What he thought had been calm acceptance through the evening had been nothing more than Eli building up steam. Eli waited until the right moment before unleashing its fury.
Quinn stood on shaky legs only to be slammed into the wall, her nose exploding into a bloody mess. Unseen hands dragged her around the room until she disappeared into a short hallway. Jaime took a seat at the dining room table and put his head down. Quinn’s screams rattled in his head until Eli ripped her voice box out. He stood and wandered into the small living room, peering at her movies and books. Her tastes ran towards his own, mildly philosophical, but mostly satirical.
The thumps, slams, squelches, and moans eventually subsided. Jaime walked back in the dining room and, given the trails of blood, it appeared that Quinn had tried to escape but Eli had dragged her back into the bedroom. He had hoped she had died quickly, but Eli wouldn’t allow that, not with this much anger built up. Against his better judgment, he went into the bedroom. Blood painted the walls, the bed, and the open closet along the far wall. Quinn’s broken body lay in a sprawl on the floor. Her head rested against her back, one arm hung at an odd angle, and the other had rolled somewhere under the bed. The ragged hole in her throat showed something jammed in her windpipe. Her clothes and skin glistened with brutal slashes.
He sensed Eli, spent, looming near the body. Jaime stared at the spot then looked back at Quinn. He had hoped for a connection tonight. Just a little human interaction to forget his burden for a while, but then he got greedy. He supposed he might have eventually gotten laid, if not for Eli. Not for the first time he wondered if he was capable of necrophilia. The battered and bloodied corpse did not excite him, but a morbid sense of pragmatism settled on him. He let the thought go. Neither was he interested or able to perform such an act. Besides, Quinn had suffered enough.
“I hope you’re fucking happy, Eli. This could have been a nice night for me, even if it only ended with dinner and good night kiss. We could have gone back to the motel and I would let you torture me all night. Like you do every night! The moment I get close to anyone at all, you turn it into a blood bath! This is why I always wear black!” He bunched the black t-shirt in his hands and pulled it away from his body.” It hides the blood!”
“My life is a living hell because of you!” Jaime continued to rail. “You never leave me alone. Always fucking with me, making sure I’m down as low as I can possibly be, and god forbid I say more than two words to a person. What about that guy who gave us a ride last year? He was nice to me and you tore him into so many pieces they didn’t find them all. It’s like I’m being haunted by a sadistic buzz saw!”
Jaime’s tirade ended as quickly as it started, knowing all too well that it did no good. Eli didn’t even bother being ashamed or sorry, as Jaime was well aware. Eli would never regret the carnage and torture.
“I noticed that Quinn has a washer and dryer,” Jaime said. “I suppose I could at least get some laundry done. What are the odds that you’ll clean up your own goddamn mess for once?” Eli’s answered by flinging Quinn’s corpse against the wall, leaving a bloody imprint halfway up. Jaime swore and shook his head as he left.
Once he finished eating, Jaime washed the plate and left it in the sink. By the back door, his army surplus rucksack full of clean and freshly wrinkling clothes sat waiting for him. He looked around the house and the dark drying blood. Normally he would spend the rest of the night cleaning the mess, disposing of the body, and then catching a ride out of town. Tonight, he didn’t care. Too much work. Easier to dig around for all the flammable chemicals Quinn owned. Just light it on fire and walk away.
“C’mon Eli,” he called as he flicked the match with his thumb. He dropped it trudged away.
***
Another humid night and Jaime ached to get out of the city. He feared that if he stayed much longer the police would start putting things together. At first, coming to a large city seemed like a good idea, but he hated it with each passing day. He had scored a weeklong job cleaning out an old warehouse scheduled for demolition. Today was his last day, thankfully. Not only did he need the money, he didn’t want to run out in the middle of a gig. Then the suspicion would be on him for sure. He worried Eli would purée someone else soon. With his pocket lined with cash, Jaime wanted to get back to his room, gather up his things, and go as far away as possible.
Working in this end of town did not set his ease any. More than a few shady deals had gone on while at work and a coworker had been mugged on the way to the subway. The boss worked him late and the only reason Jaime stayed the entire shift was because he wasn’t getting paid until the very end. The sooner he got out, the better. He put his hand in his pocket and clenched the bills tight as he rounded the corner onto the street.
Up ahead he saw the entrance to the subway, the maw of it leading to an underground world. Eli jittered near him. Jaime was well acquainted with Eli hatred of the subway. The confining trains and closed in tunnels irritated the specter to no end. He gave Eli little choice though; it was the quickest and most anonymous way to get home. Even in a city this big, anonymity was a challenge.
Ahead of him stood a group of chattery teens up ahead so Jaime veered off and crossed into an alley. With Eli’s crankiness, he imagined seeing one of those teens flung into traffic for no other reason than simply being there. It wouldn’t be the first time. Instead, he took his chances in the ink-shadowed alleyway. The aroma of americanized Chinese food and rotten trash wafting around him as he quickly shuffled through. In a recessed doorway, a thick and hairy man stood and grunted as he passed. Jaime nodded his head at the man and passed by.
He heard the footsteps behind him before he felt Eli respond. “Fuck.” Jaime swore and sped up. The man sped up too.”Really?” Jaime mumbled under his breath.
“Hey, man. I got a question for you?” the man said in a raspy voice behind him, a voice that spoke only in bad decisions. He quickly closed the gap. When Jaime didn’t respond, he called out again. “Hey, I need to ask you something.” Realizing that he wouldn’t make it out of the alley in time, Jaime stopped but did not face him.
“I don’t have any money.” Jaime said quietly.
“Maybe I don’t want your money,” the man said with a chuckle
“What do you want?” While Jaime waited, the man chuckled again. Sweat beaded his brow as he realized that he did not feel Eli near him. He never could rely on that goddamned ghost. Looks like a mugging would top off another miserable day.
“You got a light?” The man said, his voice losing some of its humor. Jaime told him that he did not. “You got some money then?”
“I don’t, I told you that already. I have no money, no lights, and nothing else. Can I go now?”
“Lying little shit,” the man said and put a vise-like hand on his shoulder. Jaime shut his eyes tight waiting to taste a brick wall or maybe a sharp punch to the kidney. He didn’t mind, not really. The pain went away eventually.
He heard the man make a squeak from deep in his throat and the hand left his shoulder. With a scream that disappeared down the opposite end of the alley, the mugger disappeared. Jaime listened to the heavy thud of a body, the shriek of raw pain suddenly cut off, and a cracking of bones. When the sounds became wet, Jaime walked forward, slow to open his eyes again. He didn’t worry about Eli catching up.
Down in the bowels of the subway station, he waited on the platform. This late at night, few people were around. He hoped to be alone, but one other man stood there. He leaned against a concrete column waiting with the patience of a life-long resident. Jaime leaned against an opposite pillar fidgeting like a tourist.
He sighed heavily and put his weight against the column, letting it hold him up. Given the chance, he would sleep right here. Maybe sleep forever. He closed his eyes again and moments later, jerked awake before he fell to the ground. The other man came towards him, asking if he was okay.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jaime stood straight and shook his head.
“You sure? You looked like you were passing out there. Too much to drink?” The man, old and dark, had kind eyes and rough hands. He reminded Jaime of a grandfather who died when he was young.
“No. I’m just tired. So fucking tired.” Jaime gave him the attempt at a reassuring smile. He appreciated the gesture, but the old man needed to back off for his own safety. Jaime looked around and saw a nearby bench. “Think I’ll sit down.”
The train wasn’t due for quite awhile so the old man sat opposite of him. They sat in silence until the old man said, “You need to get out of the city. This ain’t the place for you.”
“That obvious, huh?” Jaime nodded in agreement. “I came here hoping things would be better, even just a little bit, but it never is.”
“Problems always follow you, no matter how far away you run. Sometime those problems grow.” The old man stiffened when Jaime laughed hysterically at the statement.
“I am a certified expert on how well problems follow. I’ve been running all my life and my ‘problem’ is the only thing I’ve ever known.” Jaime wiped the tears from his eyes and then apologized. “It’s been a rough day. Rough life.”
“You got someone to talk to about it? I know I’m just some stranger off the street, but you and I aren’t so different. I had problems. My problems were with money and women, and it took me a long time to realize that it was neither the fault of the money, nor the women. It was me the whole time. I hit rock bottom and it took me spilling my guts to some asshole on the next barstool that made me realize that.” The man turned fully towards him, encouraging some sort of deep confession.
Jaime ran his hands through his hair, then across his face. What did he have to say that could erase a lifetime of horror and sorrow? Confessing to a stranger would not absolve him of anything. “My family lives out west, or at least they do now.” Jaime said unsure and untrusting of what would come out of his mouth. He let it happen anyway. “I haven’t talked to them in years. I left home when I was a teenager. It seemed safer that way.”
“Abuse,” the man tutted.
“Yeah, you might say that. Not from my parents though. They were kind and loving. Just a hard working and caring people who had a kid and hoped to live out their pedestrian dreams. I envy that of them. Their expectations were so simple, their problems banal. They had gotten over the…unpleasantness… that happened when I was born.
“Mom told me how happy she was when she found out she was pregnant. Both my parents were. They had worked and planned hard for the moment, making sure they were financially and emotionally ready to bring life into the world. I hated them for a long time, but now I respect it. They didn’t know. They couldn’t have known.”
“It’s easy to blame parents for all the sins of the world they brought you into,” the old man said.
“The doctor told Mom that she was going to have twins and she felt heaven in that moment. Their life was out of a storybook until the birth. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, at first, just a routine birth of twins. I came out first, healthy and screaming at a world I wasn’t ready for. My twin came out quiet and blue. In the womb, the umbilical cord had been wrapped around my twin’s neck. Eli was born dead.”
“A damn shame,” the man said. “Sorry to hear that.”
“As I grew up, strange occurrences popped up here and there. Sometimes when I cried, it sounded like two babies would cry. Toys in my room were scattered around and strange noises came over the baby monitors. As I got older, my parents swore I would babble to someone who wasn’t there.” Jaime rubbed his eyes again. The exhaustion returned.
“So are you telling me what I think you’re telling me? That this twin of yours stayed with you as a ghost?” Jaime shrugged at the man’s question. The man shrugged back, “I’m not surprised. All sorts of weird shit in the world.”
“For my entire life, I never understood the concept of ‘alone’. Not truly. Eli always loomed near, never leaving me.” Jaime looked at the man, recognizing the look that sat on his face. “I know what you’re thinking. Having your dead twin’s ghost looking over you isn’t some ‘guardian angel’ situation. Sure, there were times when I played carelessly and Eli came to my rescue. Twice I was almost run over by distracted drivers and once I would have broken my neck, after falling out of a tree, had Eli not caught me. But Eli would pinch and hit me sometimes. At night, in the dark, I would hear scary grunts and growls all around me. Denying me sleep was only one of the little games Eli loved to play. If I grew sweet on some girl or boy, Eli would scare them away, making me the pariah of the school. One day, sitting alone on the playground, as usual, a girl approached me. She sat and we talked. Her family recently moved to the area and no one had informed her that I was the weird kid. Despite Eli’s growing jealousy, I let her meet me every recess until one day she gave me a kiss on the cheek. Eli picked her up and threw her so hard that she landed on her arm and it broke in two places. After that, I talked to no one. My parents grew worried. Even they started felling Eli’s moods. If they upset me, they had objects hurled at them by unseen hands. If they did something nice, such as buy me a toy or comic book, it would be in pieces before the end of the day.
“I didn’t realize what Eli was really capable of until my fourteenth birthday. I had no party and no friends. My exasperated parents invited an older cousin, hoping it would help, but I was miserable just the same. James, my cousin, didn’t want to be there. Instead, we sat outside while he ignored me and smoked a stolen cigarette. Bored or just sadistic, he decided to tease me with the lit end, pretending that he was going to burn my arms. I warned him not to because Eli was never in a good mood on our birthday. James got too carried away and he accidently touched the glowing cigarette to my arm. From the look on his face, it was apparent that he hadn’t actually meant it, but it didn’t matter. By the time I yelped in surprise and pain, he already watched his hand bend all the way back until his wrist broke. Then his arm shattered. I watched my cousin turn into a broken and bloodied lump in our back yard.
“His gurgling screams brought my parents out and they stood helplessly as I yelled for Eli to stop. Unable to get him any deader, Eli let the limp body alone. I did the only smart thing in my life; I ran. I ran knowing that Eli would follow. As long as I stayed away from people then no one would get hurt.” Jaime gave a wheezing laugh. “Imagine that. A planet full of people and I think I can get away from them. I can’t even get away from a ghost. Eli won’t even let me kill myself. I’ll never be able to get away.”
Neither Jaime nor the old man said anything for a moment, the muted sounds of the city echoing above them. Finally the old man said, “So this Eli, I get it’s your twin. But is it there to protect you, or hurt you?”
“Both.” Jaime said. “Eli is my burden to bear in both love and hate. I think people forget just how close the two really are.” He stood and shuffled slowly towards the platform. The old man followed, a question leading just in front of him.
“Eli is here with you now? Are they upset that we’re talking?” The old eyes were wide and searched the empty corners.
Jaime stared at the rails in the shadows beyond the platform. “Yeah, Eli is here. If I were you I’d leave now.” Something near him twitched and the air grew chilled.
“Really? You ain’t pulling my leg on this?”
“NOW!” Jaime spun around and yelled. The old man turned and ran as fast as his tired arthritic legs would carry him. At the back of his neck, sharp icy fingers grasping at him. He made it to the stairway leading to the open night air when something behind him flashed and sizzled. The presence at his neck disappeared and he dared a look behind him. Jaime no long stood at the edge of the platform. No one did. Only smoke and a whiff of cooked meat remained.
The old man quickly ambled up the stairs to the cooling night air. He gulped it in while he held tight to a nearby light pole. Under his feet came a rumbling that nearly made him dance in place. The train was still not due yet and he knew exactly what took place down on that platform. The noises made his skin grow cold and threatened the already tenuous hold on his ancient bladder.
A nearby beat cop veered over to the old man and peered down the stairway that led to the platform. “What’s going on down there?”
“The electrified third rail,” the old man told him with a quiver. “He figured out how to get away finally and flung himself on the third rail.” The cop launched himself forward to rush down the stairs but the man caught him by the arm. His wild eyes stopped the cop in his tracks. “Don’t go down there.” He gave the man a questioning look, unable to shake the iron grip of the hand away. There was only one answer to give. “Eli.”
[bctt tweet=”OCTOBER TERROR 2018 Short Story Award – Entry #51 ‘A Bearer of Burdens’ By Michael R Collins – Enjoy all this terrific, disturbing material you have in your hands, lots of horror stories at your disposal for your dark delight and vote!” username=”theboldmom”]
On October 23rd we’ll close submissions and open a poll for the readers to choose their favourite one! You’ll have a week to make your choice and on October 31st we’ll announce the winner!!!
