Still more short scary stories

The Nightmare

Jennifer hated working late. The office was old, the neighborhood sketchy and the underground parking lot was dark and creepy. The presentation, however, was tomorrow morning and it still needed work. The clock on her computer read 10:15.

It was 12: 30 when she lifted her head up off of her arm. It took her a moment to fight through the fog, but it finally registered that she’d slept over two hours at her desk. The overhead lights were off and the white glow from her cube was the only illumination in the large open floor. She rushed to finish the presentation and then gathered up her coat, phone and keys.

Not only were the lights off on her floor, the hallway to the elevators was lit only by emergency lights. It was a shadowy, tense walk down the hallway. She pressed the down button repeatedly and angrily with no response. A light at the opposite end of the hallway went out, then another. Methodically, each emergency light went dark, until Jennifer was standing in complete blackness.

Knees trembling, she extended an arm and moved slowly until she touched a wall and then put her back against the surface. A door shut somewhere. Footsteps? How could anyone walk around in the pitch black? The clicks grew louder.

“Hello?” said Jennifer, her voice quivering.

The footsteps stopped.

“Hello?”

Warm breath touched her ear. A person was close enough to breath on her. “Wake up, Jennifer.”

It was 12: 30 when she lifted her head up off of her arm…

Flight 74

The older gentleman next to me in the window seat was staring out at the white carpet of clouds below the plane when he spoke.

“I forgot my pills.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

He turned toward me. His eyes were red as if he’d been crying, his face ashen. “I forgot my pills.”

“Sorry,” I said, not knowing how else to respond. “We’ll be landing in about a half-hour.”

“I won’t last that long without my pills.”

“Do you have a heart condition? Should I get a flight attendant?”

The man turned back to the window. “No. I’m afraid that won’t help,” he said, with a sense of resignation.

***

“Repeat. This is UA flight 74 requesting permission for an emergency landing. Over.”

“What is the nature of your emergency?”

“There’s something happening in the main cabin. Flight attendants are not responding. We can hear screams….”

“Flight 74, you have permission to land…Flight 74, do you read? Flight 74….?

The Tattoo

Head throbbing, stomach churning, I pulled myself up slowly to a sitting position in bed. I hadn’t had a hangover this bad in ages. I remembered meeting my friends Todd and Kip downtown for a drink, but after moving to a second bar, everything goes dark. I hooked up with someone…think her name is Carla. After a minute, she came out of the bathroom, not looking much better than I felt.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I feel like shit,” she declared, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thank god for cabs. Last thing I remember is the tattoo parlor…”

I tilted my head. “What? Tattoo parlor?”

Carla frowned and pointed. On the back of my hand was a brand new tattoo, the skin around its edges still red and irritated. It was some kind of symbol, like a rune or something. “I tried to talk you out of it.”

“What the fuck? I don’t remember anything. What is it?”

“There was this creepy old lady sitting at the bar and she overheard us talking about tattoos. She drew that on a napkin and gave it to you. Said it was an ancient symbol of protection. Next thing I remember is being in a tattoo place where you got that done.”

I looked at the symbol again. “Protection? Wonder if it works.”

Carla’s head snapped toward me. Her eyes widened and darkened. Her lips curled back to expose teeth like an angry dog. Suddenly, it wasn’t the face of a woman, but of a creature.

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”