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Late Night Buses

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A single raindrop hit me in the nose and rolled down my rosy cold cheek, bringing the feeling back to my numb face. I felt the biting chill of the winter's night damage my gloveless hands.

“Shoulda brought my gloves,” I sighed while putting as much effort as I could muster to rub both my hands together. This didn't help much and still gave my hands an awful numbing feeling as I shoved them back into my trouser pockets.

“Why is the bus so late?” I mumbled as I checked the direction the bus was supposed to be coming from. Another drop fell from the cold night's sky and dropped right on my forehead, causing me to shake uncontrollably as it, like the last, rolled down my cheek.

“Don't tell me it's gonna rain,” I moaned, annoyed at the thought of standing in the freezing rain for however long I had to, and was thankful I brought my jacket before I left home for the journey to my late night job. I fucking hated my job and would be soon glad when I'd be able to quit after my work experience is over.

“Two more weeks,” I grinned as I checked my phone for the time.

21:54.

“Shit,” I shouted aloud and cursed a whole jumble of swear words under my breath. “I'm gonna be late,” I complained as I kicked an empty beer bottle stood upright next to the bus sign, causing it to roll into the road, leaking leftover alcohol as it did so. I wasn't so bothered about this, mind you. The thing that annoyed me most was having to get ranted at by my pigheaded boss, Rodger. I wouldn't show the slightest sign of emotion if that lazy arsewipe dropped dead right in front of me.

The rain picked up now and caused me to pull the hood of my jacket over my head. I jingled my pockets to reassure myself that the money for the bus was still there. Clink clink.

Thank God, I thought to myself as a blew hot breath into my now blue hands.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I yelled as a bus came from the opposite direction to where I was standing. A kid, sitting on the back row of the bus, decided it was funny to stick his middle finger up at me. I gave him the hand gesture I thought was appropriate, which caused his face to screw up in anger. I laughed at him, but was soon cutoff when I realized an elderly woman had been standing next to me as I did this.

“That was very rude,” the elder said giving me the look of disgust.

“Sorry,” I said apologetically, not wanting to cause an argument.

After another five minutes passed without any sign of the bus arriving, I decided that it would be easier to just walk to work instead of waiting for a bus which was clearly broken down somewhere. Oh, and by the way, if you're wondering why I didn't text the number on the bus sign to check where the bus was, it didn't work. Either they'd put down the wrong phone number or they just didn't give a shit. The second option seemed more likely. I gave a half-arsed glance down the road, and to my surprise, I saw the headlights of a large vehicle too big to be a van. The bus.

“About fuckin' time,” I muttered to myself, making sure the elder didn't hear. I held out my now too-cold-to-touch arm and gave it a hefty wave to show the bus driver the two of us were wanting to get on. I felt a wave of relief when the bus slowed down to a stop and opened its creaky but still functional doors. Me being the courteous seventeen year old I am, sarcasm, I let the elder on first while I fumbled around my pockets for my money. I managed to pull out a pound coin and ten pence. I was sure this wouldn't be enough, but the driver smiled and told me to go sit down without even paying.

“Wouldn't want ya walkin' in the rain,” the driver added while closing the creaky doors. The bus was fairly empty besides me and the elder. The only two other people were a shady looking business man who stared at me with a glare which translated to, “What the fuck are you doing?” This made me a little uncomfortable but I sat down a seat behind the other person on the bus. A fifteen year old girl, with dark brown hair and green eyes who was crying softly into the sleeve of her woolen jumper, while staring outside into the now heavy rain. I felt as though I should say something, but I wasn't the most confident person when talking to someone I'd never met before. Luckily, I didn't have to encounter in the awkward meeting of a new person as the girl tapped me on the shoulder indicating for me to turn around. As I turned around, she and I made eye-contact.

“You should have walked,” the girl said choking back tears. I was a little confused by this and thought it may be because the bus had already broken down and was still prone to again. I thought this, however, until I noticed the leg of the girl had been handcuffed to the leg of the seat. My eyes met with hers once again as a teardrop rolled down her now pale cheek. I quickly darted my eyes over to the shady business man who was now staring at me with the look that can only be described as pure terror, as he stretched out his leg which had also been handcuffed to his seat. My heart sank. I quickly tried to get up but felt an eminence wave of exhaustion hit my body, causing me to fall back in my seat. I cried for help, hoping that an onlooker in their car might hear my cries for help. I only managed to scream once before I felt my eyelids starting to close from the sheer fatigue that I had just been exposed to. The last thing I saw before I presumably passed out was the smirk of the driver reflecting in the front mirror as he increased the speed of the bus and cruised down the village that I called home.

When I awoke, I encountered a headache that was so painful, it caused my head to spin while hot bile arose from my neck and spewed out of my extremely dry mouth.

“Water,” I weakly croaked while coughing up more bile onto my bare chest. I made a weak attempt at crying out for help, but was soon cutoff by the cries of another man and what sounded like a large power tool. When my head finally stopped spinning, I took in my surroundings. It didn't take an expert to realize that I was in a basement. As I turned my neck, something was stopping me going any further. I had been tied up by my hands and feet to a large board which resembled that of knife-throwing-circus-act.

I swallowed, trying to bring back the moisture to my throat and mouth while the feeling came back to my hands and feet. I tried twisting and turning my body to get my hands and feet loose, but it was no use. Whoever had put me here was clearly a professional. I whimpered softly as I came to the realization that this was the end for me. I hoped in the back of my mind that this would be one of those Criminal Minds scenarios were a bunch of FBI Agents would burst through the door waving their guns around and find me hung up in the basement and would cut me down and take me home. As I tried reassuring myself that I would be found, I couldn't help but feel as though I'd be the one screaming in-front of a collection of power tools while my life slowly ended.

A good half-hour passed as I hung here so helplessly. I had tried numerous times to break myself free from this torture. Unfortunately, I hadn't the energy nor the strength to break the straps holding my hands and feet in place to the seemingly cold board which I was strung to. As I swiveled my head to the right, I noticed five glass containers with text that was foreign to me. All I knew was it couldn't be for anything good.

As I turned my head back round the door of the room I was in, I ever so gently opened with not a creak to be heard. My heart rate increased dramatically as I saw a completely black figure with pale white eyes and a fine set of straight pearly white teeth stare into my helpless eyes. The figure was completely naked aside from the fine black shorts the figure wore to cover up whatever was down there. The figure had the same structure of that of a basketball player in the sense that it was extremely tall. I could see blood around the figure's mouth which made the shape of his/her chin more recognizable. It never broke eye-contact with me as it slinked towards me, no footsteps present.

The figure gave me a wide-mouthed grin as it pulled a syringe from behind its back, which might have been part of the figure for all I knew, and jabbed it straight into my left arm. I winced at the prick of the needle as it pierced my skin. The figure pressed down on the syringe head, causing all the unknown liquid to course through my bloodstream. I could feel it. I could feel the liquid run through my veins as the figure put its, strangely warm hand on my stone cold face. I could feel the liquid running through the veins in my torso and legs as the figure still held my weak head. As I felt the last of the liquid run into my feet, the figure rammed its long, thin arm into my stomach, I was shocked at this but I could not feel it. Whatever the figure had given me had stopped my body feeling pain. I was relieved but more terrified at this. The figure would be able to virtually do anything to me, within reason, without me feeling it. I started to sob as I saw the figure twist its arm around my stomach.

I couldn't feel this but I could taste the awful metallic taste from the blood that oozed out of my still dry mouth. I closed my eyes, wanting this all to be a horrific dream but I knew this was all real as the figure pulled out my stomach and presented it in front of my face. I wanted to be sick but was unable to as it had my stomach in its hands. I gave a saddened expression towards the figure as it drained the contents of my stomach into its seemingly large mouth. It licked its lips and placed my now-drained stomach into one of the glass containers which I noticed earlier. The figure closed the glass container with one of the lids placed next to the workbench and slinked its body back to me. Tears and blood were streaming down my face now and onto the now red floor, which was my insides.

The figure pulled up its arm and, once again rammed its bony hand into my now red and oozing torso. My body felt limp and I felt as though I was going to pass out. The figure noticed this and quickly pulled out another syringe from behind its back and jabbed it in my arm. As it pressed down on the syringe head I could feel the adrenaline course through my bloodstream, causing me to stay awake. I yelped in distress as it felt around my body, grabbing any organ it could. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see which organ it had obtained. I could feel warm liquid running down my legs as I opened my eyes and saw it had my bladder clenched in its fist. It squeezed down hard on my bladder causing all the urine that was held to release into the figure's mouth. Suddenly, everything went black.

I must have passed out for a few minutes, because when I re-opened my eyes, the figure was now holding the end of my large intestine in its blood-soaked hands. I just wanted to die at this point but whatever the figure had given me was doing the complete opposite of that. The figure protruded a long hook from the ceiling above the two of us and gently pierced the end of my large intestine on the hook. The figure lifted the hook high above our heads and at that point I realized what the circus-act-board was for. The figure came over to the side of the board I was strung to and gave a grin too big for its face. The figure grabbed the board with both hands and pulled it down, causing the board to start spinning anticlockwise. I could feel my body getting lighter as, through my blurred vision, I could see my intestines unraveling out of my limp, helpless body.

After about five minutes of me spinning, it grew tired of the wait and stopped the board from spinning altogether. As my vision corrected itself, I could see a pile of my intestines lying in the corner of the room. The figure gave me a bored expression as it picked up the pile of my organs and threw it in the waste-bin in the opposite corner of the room. Bearing in mind my insides were still unravelling out of my body as the figure did this. As the figure walked back to my somewhat-lifeless body, the doorbell of the building rang.

The figure clapped its blood-soaked hands together and ran quickly to the door. The way that the board was placed in the basement made it so I was able to see right up the basement stairs, and up to the front door. I hoped in my mind that it would be the police, FBI—anyone that would free me from this horrific torture. The figure flew open the door and was met with a man who was in a familiar looking uniform. All of a sudden, all the puzzle pieces' slotted into place. I had completely forgotten how I ended up down here but seeing that man re-jogged my memory.

It was the same man who was driving the bus I was in before I was taken to this hell. As my still beating heart slowed down I could feel my breath getting a lot slower as my eyes became more weaker. My body was deteriorating right in front of my eyes, and I was unable to do anything to stop it. My blood was gushing out of the wound in my body as my large intestine was still churning around the food I had just consumed before I went out. It was strange, being able to see your organs moving in front of your eyes, it was surreal. I turned my heavy head towards the basement door and could hear the two talking in what seemed to be an alien-like language as the beats of my heart slowed dramatically.

The last thing I remembered was the bus driver getting back on his bus and driving into the cold winter's night to claim the figure's next meal as my eyes finally closed and my body passed on.

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