Whispers - Volume 1: A Collection

by Keane, Stuart

  Dave gagged again, turning away from the head.

  This can’t be happening…

  The train bumped and Candice rolled towards Dave. He yelped and rolled to the side. Candice’s head bounced, flipped over and came to a rest behind a chair. Dave took a deep breath. Careful to avoid the vomit and smeared blood on the carpet, he pulled himself along.

  He didn’t want to go further into the train but felt he had no choice. He didn’t know where he was. Advancing was the only option.

  He needed answers. He needed to find the man who killed Roger.

  Bad idea, but Roger would do the same for you.

  Dave came to a sparse area in the carriage. The room opened up into a restaurant. The chairs and tables were strewn everywhere. Several were broken into shards. Dirty plates and cutlery made a mess on the floor, their edible contents long gone. Several tables were intact, placed beside the walls. Candles were piled on top of these, illuminating the room with their warm, primitive flames. In the clearing sat a barbeque spit. It was rolling around, cooking a joint of meat.

  Oh shit!

  The meat was a human thigh. The muscle and shape were distinctive. The hairy skin was a rich ham color. As the thigh rolled, Dave was aware of a crackling noise as the fat surrounding the muscle evaporated in the heat.

  The aroma reached him. Dave gagged and rolled over. In doing so, he looked up.

  Pinned to the ceiling was an obese man.

  He screamed again.

  The face was a skinless mess, muscle and tissue were starting to blacken with the heat. His dead mouth was gagged with a torn female breast, a caramel colored dome of skin, the pink nipple rested on his lower lip. Dave’s eyes wondered down and he realized the man was naked. His flaccid penis was almost invisible between the flabby thighs, his hairy chest was slit from neck to naval and his organs were hanging like some demented, visceral decorations. The skin, dimpled and doughy, was flapping in the mild breeze within the carriage. His left leg had been amputated and Dave couldn’t help but look at the roasting spit, turning slowly.

  The aroma made him vomit again. He didn’t refrain, just simply let the liquid splash the carpet. A few drops hit him in the face but he was beyond caring now.

  I need to go back!

  He knew he’d made a mistake by coming in here. A carriage of death and torture. Exhausted, he rested his head next to the puddle of vomit, the smell of acid and bile refreshing compared to the human flesh that sizzled across the room.

  A door squeaked on hinges, opening from somewhere beyond the barbeque. Dave searched for a new arrival but saw none. The invisible door closed with a thud.

  Then he heard footsteps.

  That’s when the man appeared.

  A train conductor?

  The blue uniform was unmistakable. Peaked cap, crisp blue jacket and trousers with a white shirt and a red tie. He carried a ticket machine down by his side. The shoulders were coated in a fine, white dust. His eyes were shrouded in shadow, as if they weren’t there at all. Dave frowned. What was a conductor doing on the Liberty Express? This was a private ride, you couldn’t just board for the hell of it and you certainly couldn’t just walk on and hope to buy access by chance. Tickets were only available online.

  You need to leave, NOW!

  The Conductor walked over to the barbeque spit. He leaned in and sniffed deeply, waving his hands in front of his face.

  “Wonderful.”

  The man plucked a sliver of skin from the meat and placed it in his mouth. He chewed silently and swallowed. Horrified, Dave gagged and vomit rose from his stomach, burning his throat. He forcibly swallowed it knowing any noise could give him away.

  Oh God, oh GOD!! Please don’t see me!

  The Conductor wiped his greasy hand on his trouser leg. He stepped away from the food and disappeared into a door, whistling to himself. It closed behind him. Dave breathed out.

  Having witnessed the carnage, Dave doubted anyone was left alive on this train except for him. Thinking back, maybe he was only alive because Roger had kept him covered for all that time. He’d read about soldiers doing it to avoid the Nazis…

  Fuck.

  Get your crippled ass off this train!

  Dave rolled around, onto his rump. He wanted to return to the corridor, find a room to hide in and wait until the train stopped. It had to stop sometime.

  Didn’t it?

  Go, now!

  Sitting on his rump, playing the idea through his head, Dave failed to notice The Conductor had returned. And he was staring straight at him.

  “My, looky here, a visitor!”

  Oh, Christ, NO!

  Dave felt warm piss spraying his inner thigh.

  The Conductor took a step forward and watched Dave like an animal in a cage. The unseen eyes beneath his hat never tore away.

  “Look, I’m not after any trouble. I just want to get home to my family.” He fumbled backwards.

  The Conductor laughed. “Oh don’t worry, my boy. There’s only one family that matters now. And it ain’t yours.”

  Dave swallowed. “What do you mean? The train stops in Anniston, does it not?”

  The Conductor tilted his head. A smile crept across his lips, baring green, moldy teeth. Dave was terrified. He still couldn’t see the eyes, where were his eyes?

  Blood started leaking from his nose. He touched his fingers to the warm sensation and pulled them away. They glowed vermilion in the candlelight.

  “Where you’re going, boy, is anywhere but Anniston. You don’t need your family or your home. Or blood for that matter.”

  The Conductor looked up and that’s when Dave saw the eyes. Two small pits of blackness, swirling and deep and mesmerizing. A red pinprick sat in the center of each and they enticed Dave, made him crawl forward. As he neared, the red expanded, turning the swirls a dark purple.

  Dave tried screaming but nothing happened. On the second attempt, his tongue fell out of his mouth and slapped the carpet with a soggy thud. Blood followed, gushing from his mouth, sluicing between his lips and splattering his chest. Dave looked at The Conductor and cringed.

  The dark eyes were now a heavenly white. They soothed him, made him feel comfortable, enticed him.

  Everything will be fine. Give in to the light.

  Dave did. His eyes grew heavy.

  He jerked awake with a start. Sweat trickled down his face and dripped off his chin, his skin burned hot and humid. He smirked.

  Phew, just a nightmare!

  Dave couldn’t move.

  Shit, not again.

  When he tried moving his arms, he was denied. Nothing happened. Dave looked down and his arms were restrained, covered in blankets. The blankets were white and splattered with blood. The void in his mouth became apparent.

  Don’t tell me…

  “Ah, you’re awake.”

  The voice came from behind him. Dave heard casual footsteps. The Conductor stepped into view and smiled again, the same evil, moldy smile. Dave felt his heart racing. He tried to speak but no sound came. He remembered his tongue and looked to the floor, trying to locate it.

  “Uhhhh…uhhhh.”

  The Conductor smiled. “Don’t speak, Dave, I can hear your thoughts. Use your mind for once, just once, in your pitiful existence.”

  Dave frowned. His mouth felt empty and hollow. He looked at his foe for several seconds before thinking the words, the next question he wanted to ask.

  What do you want from me?

  The Conductor smiled. “I don’t want anything from you. Not yet. What do you want from me?” He stopped in the center of the room and waited. His eyes were hidden once again. Dave gulped, wondering if it was a trick question.

  I want to go home.

  “And where’s home? New York? London? Your family home or on this train with your hookers and friends?”

  Dave thought about it. Home is where my family is.

  The Conductor slammed a closed fist down on a metal gurney, spilling surgical instruments
onto the floor with sharp metallic clangs. Dave hadn’t noticed the gurney until now. His eyes widened in fear. “Wrong! WRONG! Home is where the heart is.”

  Dave felt confused. His head throbbed, as if someone, something, was in there, poking around. A dull headache began to throb at the base of his skull. The Conductor was waiting. Dave closed his eyes. Yes, I know.

  “That’s not what you thought though, is it?”

  Dave said nothing. His eyes squinted, waiting for the entity to continue.

  “Home, for you, Dave, is a fallback plan, a settlement. Being married only suits you until you find some two bit whore to whet your whistle. One day, you got brave and fucked your therapist, and you enjoyed it so much, you now plan, I’m sorry, planned out these weekends with Roger. All because you fucked your shrink. You realize that questions several medical ethics, right?”

  Dave breathed out. How do you know my name?

  The Conductor smiled. “I know everything, Dave. I know what scares you. I know what makes your dick hard. I know that you feel weak as a man because you rely on your wife to do stuff for you, things a man should be able to do like take the trash out in the mornings. Your legs haunt you, they plague your nightmares. Hell, you think your wife hates you for it. She doesn’t, by the way, she just hates when you loathe yourself. Pathetic human being.”

  Dave’s eyes widened. His brain was working in overdrive now. Oh, I get it now. You’re Death aren’t you? This is some kind of purgatory, Roger and I died somehow and this is the stage in between. I’m right, aren’t I? Dave stifled a smile, his instincts were returning.

  The Conductor smiled. “You couldn’t be more wrong. First of all, Death? Do I look like a fucking walking, talking cliché to you? Seriously. I thought you were smarter than this. You need to stop watching shit horror movies, they give things like me a bad name.”

  Dave breathed out, dejected. So, what? Why am I here?

  “If I remember, you came here on your own accord. You bought the tickets, boarded the train and partook in its temptations. Are all of your questions going to be this dumb?”

  Dave said nothing. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the sounds in the background. The hissing and the crackling of the human flesh mingling with the dripping blood from the obese man nailed to the ceiling. The clacking of the train as it patiently moved towards its unknown destination. He no longer believed they were headed to Anniston, no person or state, in their right mind, would endorse such a train ride. The train was going to hell and he was on a one-way trip, no returns.

  Don’t show your fear, Dave. Gut check time!

  He opened his eyes.

  The Conductor was gone.

  The room was empty.

  “Boo.”

  Dave looked left and The Conductor was inches from him, his evil sneer mocking him. His eyes were black orbs, swirling once more, no white. The stench of barbequed flesh emanated off his clothes. Dave was on the verge of pleading now. Please tell me, what do you want? How can I give you what you want if you don’t tell me? Tell me!

  The Conductor smiled. “This.”

  His hand raised into view.

  What the hell?

  The Conductor’s white, wrinkled hand was wrapped around a dripping, putrid ball of muscle. Blood was everywhere, seeping and flowing and spilling. It coursed through his fingers, splattering the carpet below with cacophonous thuds. The candlelight shimmered and sparkled off the blood that coated the unknown object in his hand.

  The object began to take shape. Dave groaned again, his very soul started to lurch and die. A sudden loss permeated his heart and he closed his eyes. Closing them wouldn’t help, the image would be scorched into his brain forever.

  The spherical orbs connected to a moderately sized phallic shaft, both curled together as if still contained in their warm, underwear abode. Several stray tendons, smothered in viscera and sinew, splayed from them as shredded flaps of bloody skin sucked to the side of The Conductor’s hand. Several black pubic hairs still protruded from the orbs, sodden and matted with urine and blood, blood that seemed darker now, and textured.

  Dave looked at his genitals in The Conductor’s hand and tried to scream.

  “Uhhhhh, nggggggg.”

  Blood was seeping from his tear ducts. The Conductor grinned. “If you could scream now, it would soothe the pain. But you can’t.”

  What have you done to me?

  Dave’s eyes bulged as the pain started to course through his body, staring at the pit of his stomach and burning north to the brain. Blood slopped down his legs. The Conductor continued. “You cheated, so you’ll spend some time thinking about what you’ve done. Whilst in pain, I feel, people can reflect better, make better decisions. You have a unique chance to consider your options, many wouldn’t get this chance. After all, Roger was given the same choice and he failed.”

  Dave’s body rocked with electric, crippling pain. What choices, he thought?

  The Conductor answered, smirking. “Life or death. Live life without your manhood, never satisfy another woman again, not even your wife. Or death. I kill you here and your wife thinks you died in a train crash. You choose?”

  Dave closed his eyes, the pain was starting to take him.

  It hurts too much, HELP ME!

  The Conductor walked to the steel gurney and picked up a scalpel. “Roger didn’t choose. He paid for it with his life. I don’t just give this choice to everyone. I won’t have it thrown back in my face, do you understand? So choose.”

  I can’t…

  The Conductor lowered his head. “So be it.”

  Dave didn’t even notice the scalpel slice into his stomach, didn’t feel his intestines release from the gaping maw and slap the floor with a wet, soggy splat. His eyes closed, blood shot up his throat, and he drowned in his own blood.

  The train never made it to Anniston.

  It made the front page news instead.

  Rendezvous

  "Your name is Paige and you're a strong, confident woman."

  "Your name is Paige and you're a strong confident…fuck this, who writes this shit?"

  Paige thumbed the eject button on her CD player. Using two fingers, she slipped the disc out, wound down the windscreen and tossed the CD out into the night. After winding the window back up, she breathed out.

  "Self-help, my fucking ass."

  The two-lane blacktop stretched infinitely before her. The car was smooth on the asphalt, comfortable; it made the journey worthwhile. Trees breezed by, scratching at the night silently with their branches. The stars illuminated the sky beautifully. Paige breathed out and turned the BMW into a bend. Using one hand, she steered the car expertly. The other hand removed a smoke from her purse and placed it between her shapely purple lips. Using her thumb, she pushed the lighter in the dashboard and waited.

  "C'mon, you fucker, hurry up."

  Man, why did I forget my Zippo? Stupid Paige!

  The road straightened again and Paige allowed the car to ease straight. A green sign up ahead indicated she was nearing her destination. Two more miles. A smile crept over her lips.

  This is going to be fun.

  The lighter popped, the sudden noise taking Paige by surprise. Lighting her cigarette, she inhaled deeply and blew streams of smoke through her nostrils. She imagined looking like a pissed off cartoon character, boiling like a kettle. She smiled; she loved her cartoons.

  Cartoons reminded her of a simpler time. A time when all she cared about was school, friends, and her family. Her childhood wasn’t the best by any means but it felt like heaven compared to her mundane adult life.

  So far anyway.

  The smoke relaxed her; the solace of the cigarette calmed her nerves.

  It'll soon be over. Not long now…

  Paige took another puff of her smoke and switched it to her steering hand. Her other hand now free, she rummaged in her bag for her cell phone. Using her thumb, she turned the phone off, dropping it back to its resting place.

&nb
sp; She didn’t want any interruptions.

  Paige glanced into the rearview mirror. The road behind her was dark, empty. Much like the road before her. Her plan was coming to fruition. Her aqua-coloured eyes remained fixed on the road before lowering to the seat behind her. A glint of triumph resonated in her eyes. She looked once more at the contents of the back seat and laughed. Her eyes returned to the road.

  The body on the back seat trembled.

  Gravel and chalk cobbles crunched beneath the tires of the BMW. After a second, the air filled with silence. The headlights turned off, succumbing the opening to darkness.

  A fine, white mist, liberated from the grounded chalk, lingered in the cool, crisp air. Paige climbed out into the night and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet air, air that the interior of a vehicle just couldn't provide. The chalk cracked beneath her shoes as she walked around to the front of the BMW and propped herself on its warm hood, the engine ticking beneath her.

  Trees surrounded the opening. Paige was on the precipice of Lake Whisper. For years, people had flocked here in droves, prying eyes and curiosity getting the better of the human condition. People from far and wide sought to see the lake itself, the rowers and the sailboats, the swimmers and the sunbathers. It was a home away from home and for two years, it'd been the busiest lake this side of Kentucky. On occasion, a jet ski would break the water's surface, frothing it something rotten. It was normal for families and friends to mingle here. New friendships were born, relationships nurtured. With a view like Lake Whisper, it really was worth the drive into the deep of the country.

  Then the accident happened.

  As anyone knows, accidents can destroy a business like that.

  Paige slouched back onto the hood. She lifted her black hair over her shoulder so as not to lay on it. The metal warmed her lower back and arms. Her bare thighs hung off the edge of the vehicle, resting against the warmed grille. Her skirt rustled in the breeze. She closed her eyes and zoned out for a moment.