Under The Subway

I usually choose the quietest, unpaved ways to walk to my destination. The reason why I do so will probably be clear from the previous contents. I don't like being touched. Even unintentionally. Mostly unintentionally. Whenever a living thing touches my skin, I feel the unbearable heaviness of the flesh, almost down to the fragility of the bones. I feel how easily I could break them. Sometimes, this feeling seems more like a forbidden temptation. The only way to really quench the thirst is to drink water. As much of it as is needed for the horrible feeling of emptiness to go away. But avoiding seems to be the better option. Experience has shown so.

It was one of those days when I was trying to escape from the crowded subway entrances when I came across a rather gloomy entryway. It gave all the red flags of being an excellent psycho-movie scene template. The water dripping from the old pipes slowly escaped through the sewage bars and made a repeating echo sound. On my way down the stairs, I even heard some mice squeaking. Though, later I found out they were rats. Big ones.

The pavement under the entrance was really old. It was no longer used because of this reason. But the good thing was that there was no sign of human life. I kept walking straight ahead through the small ponds of rainwater under my feet that had lumped from the holes in the ceiling. All in all, I thought this would be my next favorite secret entrance after moving.

This assumption was soon stomped by the heavy breathing I heard from my left side. It was a numb sound, like that of a newly born puppy. At first, I thought it was the amalgamation of different rats scurrying to and fro. But soon I heard another sound.

"I promise I'll make you feel.."

The words were cut because of the falling drops from the ceiling. But I suddenly felt a rush in my body that I hadn't felt in a very long time. The desire to quench my thirst.

I walked behind the main entrance door and into the hallway from which the voices were potentially coming. Soon, a weird smell touched the tip of my nose and lingered on it for a while. Vanilla. Mixed with dust and sweat. The rust from the sewage pipes, too, had a role in the intensity of the filthy attractiveness of the horrible odor.

The more I walked, the closer the sobbing sounds came. The smell also grew stronger. One step more and I heard something else.

"This is the best you'll ever get, little butterfly."

The voice of the man reminded me of the hissing sounds the snake in my dream made. The thirst became even stronger at that point. But the moment I saw who the puppy voice belonged to, I felt it get completely out of control.

"Fly now, won't ya?" The man asked tauntingly to his victim that he was holding down with his naked thighs. The girl's whole face was smeared with a mixture of mud and sweat, and the look in her eyes made the scene even more miserable. She was laying entirely naked in front of him, unable to even move. Her body had countless bruises and contusions, and the way her arms were on the ground lifelessly hinted she had been like that for a long time.

As soon as her eyes met mine, I grabbed the man by the nape and tugged him as far away from her as possible. He thumped his head and was in a momentary dizzy which gave me enough time to take my jacket off and cover her. But her eyes gave me the same feeling that my nightmare left me with. Paralysis. At that moment, she seemed to have been emptied of the energy to even breathe. The way she looked at me showed how she had already dealt with the fact that she was completely alone, and that there was nothing to be done about it.

The more I felt her misery, the stronger my thirst was growing. I turned back to the old pig and got above him. Ironically, the scene must've resembled what he was doing to his victim before I'd find them. But to really give him the taste of his own medicine, I had to do something else. Since there was no physical hindrance, the bones between his legs cracked with a single blow of my foot. He yelled out some curse words, and went back into the frenzy, making me think he had lost consciousness. But soon, as soon as I turned my body in the victim's direction, he laughed out loud.

"I can still feel you on it." He hissed. The yellowness of his teeth was visible from meters away. I went back and hit him in the same spot. Though there were no longer any bones to crack, the sound of soft tissue being plumped to the ground was made, slowly satisfying my thirst. Feeling like what I did was not enough, I got down on my knees and hit him several times in the face. He was still alive and breathing. But just a degraded version of a pig.

I then went to pick her up. I managed to do it before his blood that ran in cataracts on the floor would reach her. She trembled. Her body, even though asleep, was unable to adapt to the touch of my skin.

"No hospital." I heard her murmur.

I took her home. She never slept that night.

It rained again.