The Waiting [Completed ✓]

The Waiting

She glances at the green watch on her left wrist. Tick. The watch flicks a bit as she jerks her wrist towards her in one small, sudden, involuntary motion. The movement was almost like that of a robot. Swift and sudden, but also inconsistent with the rest of her body. The lights above are grimy, stained with the long-term abandonment of ten years.
The waiting begins. The thought, not her own, resonates in the back of her mind along with the hiss of anticipation. Everyday at precisely 3:00 in the morning, she arrives. At 3:15, she sits on the bench that any minute could bust at the slightest weight. She’s careful to sit in the exact spot everyday, just slightly away from the back rest. Then, it begins.
Another hour has gone by, 4:15. The tourettes, no noises, only movement. No sound escapes her lips and she continues attentively watching, waiting. There’s never sound. Like a lion readying to pounce off the bench at any moment, she leans forward.
Fifteen minutes, she flicks the watch and stands to walk towards the bathroom. Her feet sound on the hard concrete, stains of every kind and trash lay there, untouched in all of those ten years.
After looking into the only cracked mirror, she hurriedly walks out.
Finally. The sound washes over her with the relief. Right on time, as always. Three minutes after, the rattling begins. The abandoned train station violently shakes, and the sound is almost too loud to handle. Standing as close as possible to the tracks she shakes with anticipation, she grabs a nearby pillar to steady herself and continues to watch.
A smile creeps onto her lips as she sees the front of the train peek out and rush to a stop.
She looks over and the door flies open, causing her to let go of the pillar, to dart towards it, and to leap into the door before the harsh slam sounds behind her. Her heart races, and she’s panting from the quick exertion. Carefully, she eyes the seats to make sure there aren’t any other passengers and when it looks good, she takes her seat.
She counts, one row, then two, and stops at the third. 4:45, she sits all the way to the window on the right. The lights flick, once, twice, two more follow, and then, the lights shut off completely.
Something is off. She moves to get out of her seat, but she’s met with a pungent odor that knocks her back into her seat sharply. She recognizes it. She lets out a gasp and her breathing increases. Now frozen in fright, she sits gripping the armrests with her life.
Why have we stopped? Panic rises; usually, the train would carry on and drop her off at 8:17 sharp. Not today. There will be no more meeting her family. She forgot the deal.
She thinks back to the beginning of May, when the deal took place. It’s now the end of December, and all over again she feels the fresh panic from that day. The sheer panic and longing she felt.
Finishing the summoning spell, she expectantly looked around. Then, before she could walk away, he was right before her crystal blue eyes. “Yes, child?” A pause. “What is this I hear about you wanting your mother and sister back?” It came out in more of a hissing statement than a question. Regardless, she answered, just wanting this to be over with.
“Whatever it takes.” And just like that, she sold her soul to the devil, not knowing the horrors that awaited her.
His smile was sickening, and so was his breath. “Let’s see then.” He further explained what she had to do in order to see her family routinely. He hurriedly added. “Oh, and if you forget something, I’ll be taking your soul.” A chill leapt from her spine, jolting her into a painful consciousness. It didn’t matter, her heart was set, and although she wavered for a single moment with unease, she knew what she was going to do. He extended his arm with the same smirk that turned her stomach and she eyed him warily. Before he pulled away, she thrust her hand into his and shook it quick. Just as he appeared, he was gone.
Now she sits, frightfully waiting. What had she forgotten? She was meticulous in her routine, or so she thought.
Then, it hits her like a racing semi-truck. Sit one seat away from the window. The thought taunts her. She was so excited, she forgot. How do you forget something so simple? So necessary?
“GeT oFf!” An angry, demonic voice sounds overhead, seemingly in all directions. The cracking sounds of an intercom only heightening her frightened state. She flies up out of her seat with some unknown courage. She propels herself toward the door in a frenzy.
Searching for the opening with her hands frantically, the door flings open for her. She almost jumps. Almost.
The train was moving again, and the door slides shut on her hand. Her escape route is gone, replaced with a fresh cut. A bloodcurdling scream pierces the air and the demon’s laugh sounds off behind her. It’s crazed. The laugh bubbles over and eventually sits in the pit of her stomach, making the panic rise and settling on top of already existing nausea.
She feels the thick liquid cover her arms in a slick coat. It finally occurs to her what this was with one very unsettling thought: a cat-and-mouse game.
Finally, the door slides open, but to her horror it isn’t much better. There are millions of corpses, their bodies all varying shades of blues and purples, as if they are covered in bruising. The smell makes bile rise in the base of her throat and eventually, it spews out over the bodies lying in the dying grass. She can’t help the crying that follows because this is really hell. No escape. The sky casts off a depressing scene, giving an ominous vibe through the ever-darkening clouds. The shadows haunt her, making her believe things are moving.
She begins sweating, a bead hits her hand and she cries out in agony. Are these really my last moments? The thought makes it hard to be silent any longer so she lets it out, beginning to scream and weep so hard she starts to cough and can barely breathe. Strings of spit are the only thing connecting her lips for a long while: she looks back out at the scene of death and prays. The bodies within her view are bleeding from their eye sockets and seem to be staring into her soul, and they seem to be judging her with an intensity that tells her they aren’t dead. At least not in any conventional way. Is this what's going to happen? The thought is more unsettling than these being her last moments. She feels a warm substance crawl over her cheeks and touches her face in horror. She soon realizes her eyes are bleeding too; her screaming intensifies.
When she looks back a last time before the door closes, she’s convinced her eyes deceived her. Her mom and sister waved to her with that smile. The sister’s jaw was deteriorating and her teeth were bared as if she were some kind of soulless zombie.
As the door closes, she feels blinding pain in her eyes getting worse and worse, until she falls to the ground screaming. Her eyes pop out of her head and roll away. She sobs but there are no tears, only the searing pain.
She starts to hear the unholy vocals of supernatural things, seemingly female and then satanic chanting over them, “Join us!” They scream. It intensifies to the point of that being the only sound she can hear. Her ears ring and covering them almost seems to make it louder.
She gives in... 5:17 A.M.
Maria wakes up in the asylum. Already twenty years later. Waiting.