SilverHoops

Part 3

Chris was the kind of person who you could talk to for hours, even in on a train in the middle of the night.

“So, where are you headed?... If you don’t mind me asking.” I questioned him, as I picked up my water-bottle and sipped a little.

“No, no. I don’t mind at all. I am hopefully going to be meeting up with a friend. Not far from the last station actually. Gum? It’s mint.” He pulled out a packet of gum out of the inside of his coat.

“What a coincidence, I’m getting off at the last stop too.” I commented, and took a piece of gum, waiting for him to reply. He remained quiet, uncrossing his legs, he leant into his lap and was looking down- hanging his hands across his knees.

“Are you telling me you make this late night two hour commute every day? On this track? This exact train? And you always get off at that stop? The same stop?” he said, concern on his face as he slowly grew more and more alert.

“Ye-“ I was interrupted by the shrill sound of the wheels of the train, ringing through the carriage walls, loud and piercing, pulling up to the next station. But it didn’t stop, the shrieking continued, growing deeper, like a rushing wind. Something was rushing around the train, rocking it back and forth. Chris’ eyes widened and he looked out the window, as if he was an animal who had just spotted a predator, alert for a possible attack. He snapped his head to look at me, only to jump out of his seat and lunge at my back pack, unzip it, and take out the pen he gifted me.

At this point I was setting into an uneasy panic, “Dude, what the actual fuck are you doing?” I said and looked out the train window in the endless darkness. Trying to see what Chris had spotted, but there was nothing.

He shook the pen, clicking it frantically. “Come on. Come on. Come on! Fucking. Stupid. shit. Uggh! Forget it, I really don’t want to do this, but I’ll just have to get us out of here the traditional way.” He threw the pen on the ground and smashed it with the heel of his boot.

“What do you mean ‘get us out o’-“  I was cut short by a particularly strong push of the carriage by some unknown force.

Chris murmured something inaudible, kicking the pen pieces as hard as he could so it was completely scattered. He slung my bag across his shoulder and grabbed my hand. Outside the window of the now tumbling train, I could see masses of gruesome, dis-figured, face-less bodies, made of some sort of white and grey liquid-gas, smashing into the train- slithering over and, what I assume to be, under it.

Chris shook my hand to get me to look at him, he said something else under his breath and his coat and hair began to ripple, his eyes glowing bright white, a symbol slashed onto his forehead, bleeding and emitting light and small ivory horns protruded from above his eyebrows.

He lifted his hands up into the air, still mumbling. He flicked his hands and fingers and brought them down in front of him, in a great cutting motion. Even though the screeching didn’t stop, the bodies began to fly of the train one by one. He made another motion, this time flinging his right arm into in-front of him and cutting outwards.

We were suddenly floating above the ground. In a confusing blur he created a white translucent bubble around us, using a pattern of small gestures- blocking out all the noise. He looked at me again, eyes glowing, he mouthed something silently, hackles raised, showing elongated fangs and a slim forked tongue, and without warning we were swirling and spinning roughly – still inside the bubble- no knowledge of which way was up, which way was down or how to escape.