#StitchedSaturday – EZEKIEL KINCAID

I was forced to post this story because Zeke was spamming my PM’s telling me to “post the best story of Stitched Saturday.” I tried to put his toddler “ID” in the corner and he had a tantrum. I gave him a lollipop and he shut up but here’s his story so he won’t keep pulling my hair.

The 12 A.M. To Nowhere

By

Ezekiel Kincaid

This must be the hundredth time I have woken up on this damn subway covered in blood and body parts. If I have to spit one more ear lobe out my mouth again, I swear I am going to shit a brick.

Nothing changes. It is the same thing over and over.

There is the red head over there draped across the seat. One of her green eyes is dangling out of the socket and her legs are gnawed off at the knees.

Then there is the douche bag looking bro dude with black hair and a trimmed beard. Well, what’s left of him anyway. He is splattered all over the car.

At my feet are the police officers. One has his chest ripped open. The other has her organs over her face, and still another is missing his head.

I examine the car and see broken windows. It had crashed at some point. I walk down the aisle and see the mangled remains of men, women, and children. A crash didn’t do this. There is no way a wreck can take someone’s intestines and wrap them around the holding bar like a coiled serpent.

“Hello!” I yell. I say the same words every time. “Anyone there? What the fuck happened?” I look down at my hands and they are dripping crimson. I glance again and I am naked. Goosebumps are all over my flesh and there is skin underneath my fingernails. I hold my hands up and stare at them. “What the hell…”

Something crunches under my feet. I stare down at it and see a severed jaw. The sinews and ligaments are wiggling and dripping blood.

Then I remember Ronnie. He got on the subway with me. We were going to the movies because they were having a horror triple feature.

“Ronnie!” I call. “Where are you, man?” I step over more dead people and go into the next car.

I see Ronnie. The expression on his face is sheer panic. His brown eyes are gazing into me and he is missing his ears. The blood is trickling down his neck and for some reason, all I can focus on are the drops which are on a few strands of his neck hair. His fingers are missing from his hand. They had been shoved in his mouth and he resembles a bad Dick Tracy character.

I sob and tremble. “Ronnie! Oh, God! Ronnie!”

I grab him and shake him. The fingers spill out of his mouth and topple onto the floor.

“Shit,” I mumble and step back.

I remember now. I know what is coming. I have the same memory lapse for a while then when I get to this point it all comes back to me.

I peek over my shoulder and remember Hannah. My beautiful blonde angel who loved me like no other. She was coming with me because we both love horror movies. Too bad I couldn’t save her. She is sprawled out on a seat with her throat ripped to shreds. Her hip bones are missing too. Who the hell can rip out hip bones?

You can

The thought arose from the recesses of my mind.

“Bull shit!” I yelled. “I did not!”

I clasp my palms over my ears. “Shut the fuck up and get out of my fucking head!” I spin in circles and scream.

All I notice are the blood stains splattered on the car. I stop then grab Hannah and hold her in my arms.

“Who did this!” I say. I fling my head back and cry. I pull a hand away from Hannah and wipe my eyes then blood mixed with tears stream down my cheek.

You did this, the voice in my head says again.

I throw Hannah’s corpse down in rage and glare up at the ceiling. I clench my fist and lift them towards the heavens. “I did not!”

Yes, you did.

“Bull shit! You liar!”

Then the events play through my mind. I killed all these people. I killed Ronnie. I killed Hannah. I killed those kids.

The revelation is too much for me. My knees grow week and I fall to the ground. I can feel the warm blood on my naked butt. I pull my knees to my chin and burry my head into them. I weep and rock, smelling the copper scent of blood and organs.

I don’t know if this is hell.

I don’t know if this is reality gone mad.

I don’t know if this is quantum physics on hallucinogens.

All I know is I can sense the full moon even down in this subway.

And this shit is about to happen all over again.

14 thoughts on “#StitchedSaturday – EZEKIEL KINCAID

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