ATLAS 776

8

The storm was still going strong. Lightning struck at the clouds outside. Rain continued pouring.

Marx wiggled his body around, in a bid to get comfortable in his seat. He took a peek at the flight stewardess beside him, who had been unusually silent for thirty or so minutes. Not a sound was heard from her, and she had been sitting in a stiff position for a long time.

Marx turned his head to her, and placed his right hand on her wrist. He shook it, and asked. "Excuse me, why is there rain so high up and above the clouds?"

The lady did not respond, or even moved. Not a single flinch.

Marx felt an uneasy feeling brewing. He asked the question again, in a higher tone. "Excuse me. Miss. Why is there rain so high up here?"

No response.

Marx felt a sudden fear. His entire body had goosebumps rippling through it. He felt his head getting heavier.

Marx looked at the stewardess's face. She was smiling, albeit a dead-like smile, as if someone had intentionally posed her body in the manner. Her eyes were fixated forward in a neutral position.

Marx sat back to his seat, and shrugged his head back. He looked up, and closed his eyes, mind filled with fear. He was breathing erratically.

"The dark is upon us soon." The stewardess's voice was heard, tone devoid of character.

Marx opened his eyes wide in fear, and slowly tilted to his right, hands gripping hard on the armrests.

The stewardess was back to her static pose. Her eerie smile and fixed composure boding.

Marx whispered to himself. "Fuck... Fuck it... Fuck this..." He had enough.

Marx immediately clicked his seatbelt off, and stood up, half arching his torso down to prevent hitting his head on the cabin ceiling.

The stewardess spoke again. "Where are you going?" A voice devoid of emotion.

Marx pulled as much courage as he could, and replied. "To the restrooms." He was nervous and scared.

"The dark is upon us. I can't let you go" the statue-like lady said.

She moved her left hand towards Marx slowly, and Marx let out a shout. "Fuck it!" Marx yelled, as he pushed against her legs and ran out onto the aisle.

Marx looked around him, and noticed the entire cabin passengers staring him down. Marx felt panic and loss, as he realized his situation.

The stewardess in the seat stood up, and placed both her hands on the sides of her head. She slowly lifted her head off, blood dripping and a sticky red substance was being pulled like an elastic band holding the head to the neck. White worm-like tentacles were crawling out from the opening in her neck. Her smile was still frozen, eyes looking down Marx with lifeless abandon.

Marx felt his legs wobbly, as he took irregular steps backwards away from the monstrosity before him, gasping and trying to breathe.

A loud cackle was heard, and Marx's vision was blinded in light.

"Holy Fuck!" Marx shouted, his torso lunging forward in sudden motion. The cabin was quiet. The storm was gone. Marx looked around, he was still in his seat.

"Dear, are you okay?" A familiar voice was heard. Marx's sense slowly returned. He looked at the source of the sound. Adrianna's worried face was looking at him, hand holding onto the earpiece which was playing music out.

Marx took a look at the environment. The cabin looked normal. The storm was gone. It was just a dark night outside the window.

Marx felt the most relief he had in a while. He slumped on his seat, and held onto his wife's hand. "Just a nightmare... Woo." He said, breathing getting slower and returning to normal.

Adrianna put her earpiece back on, and rubbed her husband's hand. "Okay. Don't worry. The dark is here soon."

Marx's heart skipped a beat. He felt the coldness seeping in again. "What did you say?" He questioned his wife.

"I did not say anything!" She replied.

"Where's the storm?" Marx posed.

"What storm?" His wife asked back, her face confused.

"The... The storm, it was brewing for hours. There was rain... The-" Marx said in an irregular speed.

Adrianna smiled, and replied. "Dear, there was no storm. Look at the weather screen!" She tapped the seat remote. The television showed the weather panel, which had been sunny the whole journey. "Why would there be rain up here?"

Marx felt uneasiness again. "Damn nightmare." He said. Marx held his watch up and looked closely. 11:56 PM.