“Yo! You survived a plane crash?”
Oh Jesus, here we go again.
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal, it wasn’t a bad crash.”
“No way dude!! That’s insane! What happened?”
“No clue, I wasn’t the one flying.”
The random guy didn’t seem to realize that I had no semblance of wanting to talk about the incident. He had likely just seen my picture on the inside page of the newspaper he had been reading, when he looked up and realized.
He persistently continued: “Well, you must have some idea of what happened, you were on it! Did an engine blow up? Did a bird hit the turbine? Why didn’t the pilot land it?”
“Listen, I appreciate the concern, but this is my stop, so you’ll have to ask someone else who was on the plane.”
“There aren’t any. You’re the only one left. You weren’t supposed to walk away from that crash.”
His voice was different, darker and full of hate.
I quickly spun around: “What the hell did you say?”
“I- I’m sorry mister, I didn’t mean any offense, I was just saying you’re the only one around that I know of, and you are a damn lucky man.”
His voice was now back to the normal, high tone, however he was more concerned about what he had done, and I could tell he hadn’t meant anything by it.
“Don’t worry about it, have a good one.”
I hopped off the derelict bus, and started walking down the street. I probably could have ridden for another stop or two to put me closer to my place, but I didn’t feel like continuing my pleasant conversation with my new fan base.
God it was terrible. I had almost pushed it out of my mind, but the man’s questions brought the memories rushing back.
The authorities did say I was one of the lucky ones. If I was one seat further forward, I would’ve been sent straight into a tree, as the plane slid to a stop.
I still don’t understand how it happened. I can’t even begin to explain what I saw. There were only four of us that survived, and none of us knew what to say. We all agreed it had to have just been an engine malfunction or something along the lines of that.
Sitting on the plane, I was in the window seat, directly ahead of the wing of the plane. Looking right, I could clearly see the entire wing as well as the turbine. The first two hours were a breeze, I don’t even remember a patch of turbulence. So far it had been the best flight I’d ever been on. Next to me, was one of the other guys who survived, and the two seats across the aisle were the other two. Guess we picked the right seats. At about twenty to thirty thousand feet, things started to go downhill. All of the sudden, everything became foggy, as we started passing through a huge storm cloud, which shouldn’t have been there. I remember checking the weather periodically just in case of a storm, and it was meant to be clear sailing the whole way. The storm ushered in some of the worst turbulence I’d ever experienced in my life. I almost came flying out of my seat on more than one occasion. A random storm, I could deal with. I mean, let’s be honest, the weather channel is never right. The problem was, the storm seemingly started to kill the power in the plane as well. The lights began to flicker, static ran over the intercom, and the air quickly became frigid. I’ve flown a lot in my life, and sometimes through some bad storms, but this topped everything.
Then it happened. I heard a noise outside the plane, and I’d assume the other three heard it as well, as they too, quickly looked out the window. At first, it looked like there was nothing out on the wing, but it was so dark it wasn’t like we’d be able to see anything as it was. A flash of lightning soon changed that. The light seemingly silhouetted a figure on the wing of the plane. It was crouched over, directly above the turbine. I couldn’t see the face of it, the only thing visible was its tattered black cloak. Though they seemed worn and battered, the material appeared almost light as air, and looked once beautiful. The thing reached its hand out, if you could even call it that, and moved towards the turbine. I spun around to make sure I wasn’t the only one seeing it, where I saw the other three survivors were as transfixed as I was. As it placed its hand on the edge of the turbine, a distinct clicking sound started to become audible, and grew steadily louder. I finally noticed the ice that was now forming under its touch, and was likely blocking the turbine, but it was too late. A loud crash sounded out, as the turbine began smoking, and the engine died. The figure pulled its hand back from the turbine slowly, then lightly dragged the tip of its gaunt fingers across the top of the wing, which was forming visible cracks in the metal. As it reached halfway back the wing, the metal lurched, and started to peel back, causing a huge bout of turbulence, and started to tip the plane into a slight roll. The figure wasn’t affected at all, as it stood up perfectly straight upon the now destroyed wing. It slowly turned towards the window we were all looking out of, and for some unknown reason or urge, we all immediately ducked down, as not to be seen. After waiting a couple of seconds, we looked back, in time to see the figure at the back of the wing, facing straight forward. It tipped its head slightly up, as it finally seemed to catch the wind and go flying off the wing, but not before a pair of the most angelic, yet haunting wings sprouted from its back. They were majestic. Even having seen them for that split second, they were clear as day. Darker than coal, yet beautiful. I think we all knew what we had seen there, but we couldn’t really even believe ourselves, much less get anyone to believe us. None of that mattered now, as the wing now began to rip off the plane, as the turbine finally stuttered and completely stopped. The plane dipped and began a steady descent towards the ground. I’ll never forget that screaming.
I can’t really even remember the rest. Just waking up with sirens everywhere, on a stretcher. What that guy said earlier, about me being the last one, that can’t be true, can it? Walking by a newspaper stand, I saw a new headline: “Man Who Survived Plane Crash Found Dead After Suicide.” I grabbed the paper, and began reading.
“You can’t just read that, you have to pay.”
“Please, I just need to read this one article.”
“Then you can pay for it like everyone else.”
His tone was very final in his decision. Grumbling a few words that probably should not be spoken, I gave him his money and began reading.
At the bottom of the article, there was a clear picture of the guy. It was the man who was sitting directly next to me. He had jumped off of his balcony apparently. Holy shit.
The only lead they had, was that in therapy after the crash, he kept falling back on the line: “it’s coming.” No one knew what he meant. They all thought he meant his suicide-
That wasn’t a suicide, this things picking us off. I looked back to the picture of the guy. At least he’s still smiling there. Then something caught my eye in the photo. Did he just… move? I looked closer, for the man’s eyes to pop straight to my face, as his smile dropped. I threw the page and stumbled backwards. I guess in my commotion I didn’t hear the light flapping of wings. I heard the tires screech, and turned just in time to see the headlights coming straight for me.
Death comes for us all.