Horror Stories from Horrified - Volume One (2)

smear ed w ith r ed. A cold w eight in my hand. The image hit me like a migr aine.
?It?s nothing? ?
The str eet r oar ed ar ound me like tinnitus, like the sudden sw ell of w ind in the tr ees. My
eyes w er e w et.
?Oh honey, w hat is it??
The w et became a flood. He pulled me into a tight hug, into the safe cave of his chest,
swallow ing the city until it was just us.
?We?ll find a pr iest. Or something. We?ll figur e it out. Someone w ill know w hat to do.?
As always, w ithout question, he w ould follow me into the dar k. Calm, r ational Steve, w ith
his physics and computing and hear teningly simple way of seeing the w or ld, w illing to
accept w hatever bonker s tr uth I thr ow at him. I love him so much it hur ts.
?Let?s go home.?
He waved dow n a black cab, deposited me inside and instr ucted the dr iver to take us
home, double-time.
12th December
I left the office later than planned. The r ain was ashy and r elentless. The str eets w er e
gr imy water colour s and over flow ing dr ains, gushes of litter and new spaper clogging the
thr oats of the city. I navigated umbr ellas and r ough shoulder s to slip into the tunnels of the
tube. It r eeked of sw eat and stale chips. The busy platfor m r olled onto the tr ain like a tide
but thinned out quickly once w e got going, tw o or thr ee at each stop and I was alone in the
car r iage w hen w e r eached Caledonian Road. I could br eathe in this lonely pocket of tow n,
away fr om the insistent pr essing of voices and hands and cologne. The tr ain sw ept the
r emnants out towar ds Cockfoster s and I was left w ith the hollow click of my boots. I
stopped to untangle headphones and the clicking continued fr om somew her e behind.
Ther e was no one on the platfor m. I hur r ied to the exit.
The station foyer was an empty caver n of sickly yellow tiling, slick fr om w et and
fluor escents. I dug for my ticket and saw a tr ail of mar ks on the floor ; small br ow n mud-
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