Monday. Matt hated Mondays. He knew everyone hated Mondays and Mondays hated everyone. But he did not know how much this Monday would hate him. Matt was 20 years old, with curly brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. He was tall and thin, and always wore his round glasses with their black vine pattern on them.
He was on his walk to the university bus stop at 7:15 in the morning. He was waiting to cross the road and looked across to the clock tower in the center of his village. The hand just hit 7:16. Matt chuckled to himself. 7:16, he thought, 6 hours and 66 minutes. Matt didn’t usually think like this, but today was Halloween so he let his mind wander to the darker areas of life. But he found that just thinking of slightly darker than socially acceptable things made him feel like this day might not be so bad.
Just as he thought that the school bus came towards him. But it didn’t stop. It went flying past him and with an absurd amount of noise as the bus went through the tunnel next to Matt. The tunnel was made for low cars. The noise was created by the top half of the bus being ripped off. Matt ran towards the bus to see if anyone had been injured. The only one in the bus was the driver, who, as matt could see, was sitting in the chair and seemed uninjured. But as he got closer he saw that the driver’s head and been wrenched off with his spine being pulled slightly out of his body sticking out of his neck. Matt couldn’t see the head, not in its entirety; it had been crumpled and smashed all of the bus. Matt suddenly felt horrible and threw up in the corner.
The police took matt to the station to get a witness report, Matt told them everything he saw. Just as he was explaining a police officer came in and immediately handcuffed Matt. He asked what was wrong and the police officer said that his fingerprints were all over the bus. Matt said it was normal that some fingerprints would be on the bus since he took it every day. But the officer told him that they were literally all over the bus. On the steering wheel, the seats, all over the outside, and even in the exhaust pipe.
Matt was put in a cell and was sitting there for hours unable to contact anyone. He was waiting for news from the police. They came in and told him what they had found. There had been liter bags of blood stored in various parts of the bus. There was a bag in one of the seat cushions, one in the oil tank, and five others in various parts of the bus. Before Matt could say anything the officers said that his fingerprints were not on the bags. They said that the blood in the bags belonged to him.
Matt felt weak and started to faint. The police managed to stop him form passing out but Matt just sat still for a few minutes without speaking and flinching and the slightest sound.
Since the police were so confused about what had happened they decided it was okay to let him go but they put a tracker on him just in case they needed to find him. He was walking past where the accident had happened. It was getting quite dark so he stopped and looked to the clock. 7:16 again. He stopped and stared at the clock for a while and waited. He concluded that the clock had broken and was stuck. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a well-dressed man coming towards him. The man was about 30 years old and wore a grey suit with a blood red shirt and sliver tie. His hair was jet black and sleeked back, but he had a red streak on his right side. His left ear was pierced and there seemed to be a cross earing on it but it was upside down. Matt assumed he had put it on wrong. He smiled when he approached Matt and his teeth were as sharp as a lions. Matt took a step back but the man grabbed his arm, the pain was immense. His arm felt like it was burning and being repeatedly stabbed with a knife dipped in lemon. He pulled his arm away and rolled up his sleeve to see there was nothing wrong with his arm. The man asked him what the problem was; his voice was smooth and warming but also made you feel like you had murdered an orphan. Matt just ignored him and started walking briskly away. He went into the tunnel that went under the road. He was almost a quarter of the way through when the lights went off. They turned back on a second later, making Matt feel safer, but he saw that at the end of the tunnel there was a figure. The lights flickered. The man was at least ten meters closer. They flickered again. The man was 50 meters away from him now. They flickered for the third time. 30 meters. Matt was getting very scared since the man was moving faster than possible. Flicker. 20 meters. Matt wanted to move but his legs wouldn’t let him, they felt like they had tuned to stone from fear. Flicker. 10 meters. Matt finally regained control over his legs and turned to run. Before he could run, the man’s face was right in his, smiling and letting his forked tongue slowly slip out of his mouth to touch Matt’s face. It felt like acid melting away his skin. Matt touched his face and when he looked at his hand he saw there was blood. A part of his face had been torn away by the man and was oozing blood. The man looked right into his eyes and slowly changed. His hair growing out into scraggly, messy locks; the pupils of his eyes turned yellow and the whites turned black; his face grew scars and boils; a pair of long, twisting mould-green horns grew from his head and his suit bore holes in itself. He grabbed Matt’s head and starting cackling while Matt’s face started to burn and melt away, then his hair started to burn. The pain was immense. The man, who Matt now knew had to be The Devil, stood on his feet and out grew giant hooves that cut into his feet and sliced off bits of his toes. Then he let go of his head and Matt fell to the floor. He was in too much pain to cry or even to move. All he could do was look at the Devil to see what he would do next. The Devil looked at him and removed the skin of his own hands, while his nails grew out. He picked him up with his bleeding hands around Matt’s neck, digging his nails into Matt’s throat. Then with one brisk movement he used his other hand to tear into Matt’s stomach. He moved his hand around, making Matt writhe in agony as he took hold of his guts and yanked them out making them spill on the floor. Matt’s burnt face was trying to cry but he could not, his tears had evaporated inside of him. The Devil then took hold of his heart and pulled it out without ripping any veins or arteries. He then hooked Matt’s nerves around his little finger and put them on his heart. He brought it up to Matt’s face and then slowly took a bite ripping the nerves with his teeth. Matt stated to scream out in pain but the light drained from his eyes and he went limp. The Devil threw him to the floor and walked off, still eating the heart.
The clock hit 7:17.
