Forgotten Fears

by Bray, Michael

  “What’s wrong?” Sylvia asked, standing and placing a reassuring arm around her shoulder. Cindy didn’t move. She knew perfectly well what the problem was before Carol even opened her mouth.

  “His eyes…” was all she managed before she began to sway on her feet, and was helped to one of the free jump seats by Sylvia and David.

  Sylvia turned to Cindy, and rather than the calm confidence, there was a hint of fear etched onto her face. “You need to tell me what’s happening here right now.”

  Knowing there was no way to avoid it, and that as crazy as she would sound, it had to be shared, Cindy told the rest of the crew about her experience with the man with the black eyes. They sat in silence for a while, until David broke it with a nervous laugh.

  “I don’t believe any of it,” He said matter of factly, leaning on the curved white interior wall. “I went up there and everything seemed okay.”

  “Well, something is obviously wrong. You only have to look around to see that.” Sylvia said, giving him a cold stare. “Besides, you seemed spooked when those other passengers got off the plane before take-off.”

  “It’s just nerves,” David hissed back, and although he was trying to put on a brave showing, his eyes darted nervously and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Besides, people get off planes all the time, it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Fine,” said Sylvia, standing and looking him in the eye. “You say nothing is happening, the girls here say there is. I’ll go take a look for myself and then we can decide what we should do about it.”

  “It’s a waste of time, you know that, don’t you?” he said, staring at the dividing curtain.

  “Maybe, but I’m still going up there to take a look. You stay here and make sure everyone keeps calm, okay?”

  “Okay,” He repeated as he gave another uncertain glance to the dividing curtain.

  “Good. Then we understand each other. But you have to keep calm. There are almost three hundred passengers on board this aircraft, and the last thing we want is a mass panic, understood?”

  He nodded, and then sat beside Carol.

  Sylvia paused at the curtain and wondered what was so terrible that it had seemingly incapacitated the crew in some form or other. She was determined to find out, even if it might mean they had to deal with something truly unique.

  The walk towards the front of the aircraft seemed to last forever, and as she made her way closer to the passenger in seat 6A, she felt her heart begin to beat a little faster. She walked straight past him at first, moving through the curtain dividing the front section of the aircraft from the passengers. She took a moment to compose herself, and then peeked back through a small gap in the blue curtain. She saw him immediately. Just as David had said, the seats beside him had been vacated, and she could see why.

  He was looking out of the small window at the ocean of clouds, but she could tell even from his profile that it was exactly as both Cindy and Carol had said. His eyes were bottomless inky pools, and she started to pray under her breath as she watched him. As if he heard her mumbled words, he turned slowly towards her, locking his expressionless sharks gaze on the tiny gap in the curtain from where she watched. She felt nausea sweep over her, and her legs almost gave way. She suddenly understood why Carol and Cindy had been so affected, for it was plain that this thing was evil. She reached up to grasp her crucifix and increased the tempo of her prayers. The black-eyed thing in 6A seemed to grimace and then turned its gaze back towards the window.

  The instant its eyes were off her, she began to feel more in control of her body, and the nausea passed. She realized that the hand not holding the crucifix was clenched into a tight fist, and as she relaxed her grip, she saw tiny crescents of blood in her palm from the pressure.

  Her next thought was of what to do next. The black-eyed man had boarded with no trouble and had caused none since the flight had been in progress. However, like Cindy, her mind was now filled with images of mid-air explosions and depressurized cabins. Somehow fighting off the urge to panic, she hurried back down to the rear of the craft, staring straight ahead and just about resisting the urge to scream and run.

  A cup of tea later, Sylvia was almost back to her normal self. So far she had said nothing and rightly guessed that she probably didn’t have to, as her facial expression would tell enough.

  The crew was waiting expectantly, and with deceptive calm, Sylvia set her cup down and spoke. “We need to turn around and land this plane.”

  “What happened?” Cindy asked, chewing her lip nervously.

  Sylvia turned to the rest of the crew before she answered. “There’s evil on this plane, and if we don’t land, I think we could all be in serious trouble.”

  “Oh come on, not you too,” David said, shaking his head. “This is crazy.”

  “Go look for yourself,” She said simply.

  “No, I don’t want to do that.”

  “Then please be quiet, unless you have something worthwhile to add.”

  “We can’t turn around now,” Carol said. “Not without causing a panic or having a damn good reason. I don’t know about any of you, but I don’t really want to have to try and explain this to the pilot.”

  Sylvia looked towards Cindy, and her friend nodded.

  “I’ll speak to him. I know him outside of here, but for the record, I don’t think he will go for it.” Cindy said.

  “You’re sure you’re willing to do that?” Sylvia asked.

  “I don’t see what choice we have.”

  “Alright, if you’re happy to try to convince him, then we would all appreciate it. Just don’t do this if it’s going to make you feel uncomfortable” Sylvia said, unable to hide the shadow of fear from her eyes.

  “I can’t promise anything. All I can do is try to convince him.”

  IV

  “Absolutely not,” Captain Henshaw said, as he looked Cindy up and down.

  “Please,” she said, trying to keep as composed as she could in front of this despicable man.

  “Sylvia seems to think—”

  “She doesn’t get paid to think, she gets paid to look after the crew, the same as you do. You can leave the thinking to us.”

  “You are prepared to risk the lives of these people just to prove a point?”

  Henshaw turned towards her, as the co-pilot and navigator tried their bests to ignore the confrontation.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about anything outside of this aircraft. Right now I’m doing my job, which is what you should be doing. If every captain turned around every time someone was spooked or had a bad feeling, then nobody would ever get where they were going.”

  “This isn’t about the crew or even the flight,” She shot back. “This is about me rejecting you.”

  “Really,” he said, snorting down his nose. “Don’t flatter yourself. You weren’t as big a deal as you think.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way, because as soon as we land in Boston, I’m done. You can consider this my notice.”

  “Your loss,” Henshaw said with an exaggerated shrug of the shoulders. “But with or without your resignation, the flight will go on as scheduled. Now you can do whatever you have to in order to keep the crew and passengers safe, but you will do your job and we will continue on to Boston without interruption. Is that understood?”

  There was so much that she wanted to scream at the arrogant, pompous man, but she knew that to do so would only please him and show that he had managed to get under her skin. Instead, she turned and opened the cockpit door. As she was leaving, Henshaw called over his shoulder.

  “Oh, and before you and your crew make more mountains out of molehills, be aware that we’re heading into a storm, so expect some turbulence.”

  Cindy felt sick and knew that was how it would happen. How they would all die at the hands of the black-eyed man.

  Henshaw smiled, mistaking her distress for anger, then turned back to the controls of the aircraft.


  She made her way back to the rest of the crew, flashing the black-eyed man a wary glance as she passed him. He was looking out of the window, and she was grateful for the small mercy that his opaque gaze was turned away from her.

  She told the crew of the outcome of her attempt to talk the captain around, and they stood in the galley, wondering what to do. Sylvia listened, and watched as Cindy told her story, and when she finished speaking, Sylvia took over.

  “I’m not convinced we can stop this creature,” she started, looking at each of them in turn “But I’m willing to try and hold him at bay until we land.”

  “Hold him off how?” David asked quietly, his eyes flicking between Sylvia and the curtain leading towards the passengers.

  “When I went up there to see him for myself, he looked at me, and I grabbed my crucifix and prayed. He didn’t seem to like that, and I think it weakened him.”

  “You think it did?” Carol asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?”

  “No, but it’s all we have, I can’t do it alone, though, I’ll need all of you to help me.”

  “By praying?” Carol said her voice shrill “I don’t see how that will help.”

  “Keep it down,” David said, glaring at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “it’s just that... I don’t believe…”

  “I understand,” Sylvia said, offering the younger woman a warm smile. “But even if you don’t, I need you to do it anyway; I don’t think I will be strong enough on my own.”

  Their discussion was broken by the sound of Captain Henshaw’s voice drifting through the aircraft over the public address system.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Please be advised that we will shortly be entering a small patch of bad weather, and you may experience some turbulence.”

  The frightened crew shared worried glances, and it was Cindy who spoke next.

  “We have no choice. We can argue about it later, but right now, it’s worth a try. We’re with you, Sylvia. Whatever it takes.”

  V

  Ten minutes later, they were in the front galley, the curtain separating them from the passengers, and, more importantly, the man in 6A. Sylvia paced and wrung her hands, as Cindy and the others looked on, wondering what was about to happen.

  Outside the aircraft, the soft white spread of clouds had started to morph into an ugly slate grey, and the smooth ride had started to shudder and jolt, only a little for the time being but with the promise of more to come.

  “What do we do?” Cindy asked, trying to ignore the waves of nausea that surged through her.

  “I need to see him, and he needs to see me,” Sylvia replied. “I need for you to pray with me, even if you don’t believe.” She looked at Carol as she said it, but all the fight had gone out of her, and she looked back blankly and nodded.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  Sylvia walked through the curtain, leading the crew to the front of the plane.

  “Okay,” she said to the others as the moved out of sight behind the divider curtain. “You all sit here. Hold hands if you want, but you don’t have to. All I need to you to do is pray.”

  “How? What do I do?” Carol asked.

  “Just ask for his help,” Sylvia replied, rolling her eyes towards the heavens. “And ask that we be led to salvation.”

  Cindy took her friends hands in hers, the two women locking eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “No, not really,” Sylvia said, almost managing a smile. “But I have to try. Stay here and join them. Pray for me, and I’ll do what I can out there.”

  “You seem so unafraid.”

  “I believe my God will save us,” Sylvia replied. “That’s all I need.” Before Cindy could say anything else, Sylvia pushed through the curtain and took up a position near the door of the plane, the crucifix removed from her neck and gripped in her hand. The man in 6A sensed her immediately, and cast his black gaze upon her, grimacing at the sight of the crucifix.

  Sylvia locked eyes with him and moved her lips silently. Only she heard whatever prayers she was saying. The man with the black eyes squirmed and as Cindy watched, a light sweat began to form on his brow.

  The rest of the passengers were oblivious, and may as well not have been on board because all that mattered was Sylvia and the man in seat 6A.

  Cindy wasn’t religious, not really, but she glanced at David and Carol, and they were both sitting in their jump seats, holding hands and concentrating with their eyes closed. The aircraft lurched, and a murmur of concerned comment and laughter drifted from the passengers, who were otherwise silent. Rain now barraged the porthole glass windows, and there was another stomach-churning lurch, which brought the ‘fasten seatbelt’ lights flashing to life.

  The passengers responded as one, doing as they were told as another shudder rolled through the aircraft.

  Sylvia and the black-eyed man were oblivious, they were locked eye to eye, will to will. Sylvia clutching the crucifix as she continued her silent prayers, the black-eyed man squirming and glaring.

  As Cindy watched, Sylvia’s hair began to change, the rich black colour starting to fade to grey. The plane vaulted, and for a split second, Cindy was sure this was it, and they were about to crash, but somehow the wings reaffirmed their grip on the air, and the aircraft righted itself. Now, the initial isolated comments of concern were a general murmur of worry as passengers glanced out of the windows as they entered the storm.

  The black-eyed man screwed up his features, and as Cindy watched, a single crimson tear rolled down his cheek. Sylvia’s hair was now almost completely white, and she looked to have aged impossibly as if the last few minutes had taken years from her life.

  The aircraft creaked, and the rain continued to tap and probe for a way in. Cindy could hear Carol sobbing softly, but couldn’t take her eyes away from the battle raging in front of her.

  The black-eyed man groaned, the sound perfectly crisp in the stillness of the air, and then, almost immediately, something happened. The atmosphere which had been so heavy and electrically charged, changed and the man glared at Cindy with a look which contained so much rage, so much fury that she drew breath. She knew that sleep would be something that would be a rare luxury from that day on because she would never be able to rid the image of that expression from her mind.

  Sylvia looked like hell, and ready to fall at any second. Cindy wanted to reach out to her but dare not for fear that she would distract her friend and send them all to their deaths. The plane shuddered once more, and then the light outside changed as the rain was replaced by sunlight which streamed through the aircraft windows. Whatever power the man in 6A had, now seemed to have gone. He shook his head and looked out at skies which were once again blue and clear.

  The public address system crackled to life, and the smooth, if slightly tense, tones of Captain Henshaw filled the cabin.

  “Apologies for the unsteady ride back there, but we are now in free air until we reach Boston. We will be ready to land in around twenty minutes time. Thank you.”

  Cindy touched Sylvia’s arm, which felt cold and leathery. Her friend blinked, and the idea that she had somehow aged was only enhanced by the exhausted sigh, which she released.

  “We did it, we’re safe,” she whispered, her eyes dull and ancient since her encounter.

  Words like thank you didn’t seem appropriate, or enough, and so Cindy simply nodded as Sylvia shuffled to the nearest jump seat behind the curtain and sat down hard. Nobody said anything and could only watch as she sobbed quietly, still rubbing the crucifix between her thumb and finger.

  VI

  The plane landed safely in Boston. By then, the passengers had almost forgotten about the turbulence, and Cindy thought it was some horrible injustice that they would never know how close to death they came or the sacrifice that one woman went to in order to save them. Sylvia still hadn’t spoken. Instead, she stared at the cross, her
waxy features having lost the same life and vigour as her hair had. The man with the black eyes was the first to exit the plane, glaring at Cindy as he walked past her, his face still one of rage and defiance. The rest of the passengers followed, and when they were all off board, Cindy walked Sylvia, holding her frail friend under the arm and led her to the employees lounge in the airport terminal. David and Carol did not follow, and neither would ever set foot on an aircraft again, handing in their respective notices later that week. Cindy watched out of the window at the vast expanse of runway as planes landed and took off and were boarded and emptied. Life went on, but for her, it was changed, as she knew there were evil things in the world that existed alongside humanity.

  She toyed with her glass and looked at Sylvia, who was staring vacantly ahead. “What happened up there?” She asked quietly.

  Sylvia said nothing, and Cindy was about to ask again when she spoke, her voice as old and broken as she was. “What day is it?” she asked.

  “Tuesday, it’s Tuesday.”

  Sylvia nodded, and drained the double scotch in one with hands that she could barely stop from shaking.

  “I failed.” She said simply.

  “No, no you didn’t. You saved everyone on board. You did it, Sylvia.”

  Sylvia looked at Cindy then, her eyes glassy and vacant, and she offered a thin, ghostly smile.

  “No, I didn’t. I made it worse. He told me, told me that he was going to get right back on another plane. He told me he would make sure it was bad, and that whatever happened would be my fault.”

  “What do you mean told you? I don’t understand.”

  “Here,” she said, tapping her temple with her index finger. “I heard him in here, I saw what he is, what he intends.”

  “Maybe we can call security, get someone to find him?”

  Sylvia shook her head. “No, he will have changed form now anyway. They can do that. We’ll never find him. The first we will know is when we hear about it in the news.”

  Sylvia put the silver crucifix on the table, and slid it towards Cindy.