GagnonMi

I've told the story a thousand times, perhaps. And I suppose that's why I'm here. Yeah. But let's not dwell on that. Let's talk about what happened. I'll tell it again. But I know this time is different. More important. Yeah. I recognize that. But before I begin let me tell you this. I swear with all of my heart and soul that my tale is true. It happened to me and I'll take it to my grave, I will.

August. It was august. It was hot that day. I remember arriving at Back Bay station sweating through and through. I had business in Natick, see. Had to catch the train. The 12:45. The 12:45 to Natick...I was there at 12:31, see. 12:31. My God, I can't ever forget that. 12:31. Wasn't a lot of time to kill. Not much at all. So I went right down the stairs to Platform 9. That filthy box of cement under the station...

I took a seat on a platform towards the end of the platform. Away from the people. Weren't that many; no. Maybe five. Funny how that's the only thing I can't remember proper. Funny... The woman though. Ah, the woman. Gorgeous in a business suit. Smiled at me on my way to the bench.

Sitting on that bench with about 15 minutes to kill, I figured I'd squeeze a few pages in. Just some light reading. I won't tell you the book. No. Don't ever ask me that book. It's as clear as day, but I'll cut my own throat before I talk about that, understand? I was just reading; losing myself in the pages. Not but ten minutes went by before it all started. Yeah. Things went wrong. BOOM! An enormous sonic boom overhead like the delayed roar of a super sonic jet. It just happened without warning! Startled me, see. Real bad. Dropped my book, and that's why I noticed. Now I swear to our Lord that my observations are accurate. I've heard hundreds of explanations attempting to make sense of this, but I promise you none of them are right and true. No, no....no I'm sure of this...

See it was then that I noticed the... how should I say... difference. Yeah, things weren't the same. No. Because after I dropped my book I had myself a look around, see. Nobody. All gone. None of them got up and left. A train didn't arrive. They were just not there. I'm sure it couldn't be so. But there it was. Nobody. The platform was empty. I struggled with this for several moments... felt a small surge of panic. Could I have perhaps passed out without realizing it? No, couldn't be. My watch didn't even show 12:45 yet. They were just all gone.

Given these new events I thought it wise to look around. Investigate a bit. See if I could make sense of the matter! So I cautiously got up. But then the sound. It'll be engraved in my head forever. This... this... grinding sound. This horrible grinding. Echoing down the platform stairs and off of every concrete wall, reverberating back in my skull... this hideous, terrible sound! It was then the panic started rising. An intense urge to flee. But no, I couldn't. I just couldn't. The meeting in Natick, I had to be there! What could I possibly say if I missed this train now? I was spooked by obnoxious construction? No, I couldn't! Couldn't possibly.

But my thoughts were interrupted. There was another sound, see. My God, there was another. So different, I couldn't possibly explain it any more. Nothing could fit now. It perturbed my soul in such a way as I've never felt before or thenceforth. But this sound I could perhaps qualify better; I could equate it, I could place it. It was an emense beating of wings. A quick surge of enormous flapping. What I imagine the flutter of a thousand foot impossible Pterodactyl would produce. Above. All happening above me. Yeah. Must've been on the floor of the station. Some sick prank perhaps? A team of young jokers booming disturbing sounds with a stereo? Surely security would respond. Yeah. They'd respond.

Still, the urge mounted. Heat pounding. Fluttering. Too fast. I started toward the stairs. Had to go up. Had to check. Had to see. What's upstairs, Lord help me, what's upstairs... But before I reached the heavy doors of the stairwell the third and final sound my ears ever registered was produced. Less my senses defy me, it was close. Very close. Up the stairs and just around the corner. Oh it was close. So close...close... the snort. A horrible rapid burst of breath above. I could only compare this horrible sound to a horse, but no, it was different. No creature under God in heaven ever produced such a sound, and with His will, none ever will again. My mind began racing...terrible visions of unseen demons, servants of the dark and macabre, organic embodiments of megrim, everything impossible and implausible to the human psyche. That was when my hearing stopped. No, the sound didn't do it. No it couldn't have. Wasn't that loud. Loud, yes. But not that loud. The doctors say my ear drums are intact... it's my head that's punctured and wrong.

Approaching the throws of madness, I threw open the heavy doors with every intent of racing up those stairs. Racing past the source of these awful echoes and to anywhere that'll have me. Yes, and I would have. Oh, I would have. But the stairs weren't right either, see? No, they weren't right. Not right. Not right at all. So wrong... no bodies, but... no. No bodies. But the walls, see. Yeah. The walls. How could it have looked like that? No. No I won't. I won't continue. I can't tell you any more. No I won't. I'm here now, see? I'm here now. Here now. I'm alive. Hah, I'm alive. I got up those stairs and I'm here. They came back too, you know. I don't know when. Oh, I don't know. But they came back. My brain is wrong but it still thinks. Still thinks. Hahahaha, yes, that's how it happened, how it all happened, every word, ever word true, all happened, alive, wrong, impossible, see the walls? See the walls?


The rest of his ramblings were disconnected gibberish and not believed to be valuable to these records. It should also be noted that in the following night, he was discovered in his cell with his eyes gouged out by his own hand. In light of this, the patient will henceforth reside in solitary under permanent watch.

MSWordUp

I always enjoy the ramblings of the mentally ill. Call me sick. I liked this even though it was basically pointless and went no where. Those are my favorite sort of stories.

One thing. Personally, I probably would have italicized the final paragraph to note it is a different speaker. If it is a different speaker, anyways. That's how I read it.