Sunday, October 28, 2012

Uncle's Taxi Ride

I finished as a finalist in the newspaper's Halloween Fiction Contest! Okay, so I didn't win and you'll have to scroll down the page to the second to the last paragraph just to find my name mentioned among the twelve other writers in the article, but I'll take the ego boost. I think Billy Madison said it best:


And yes, that was my actual reaction. Anyways, I can't find my story on the newspaper's website so I guess they're not going to sue me for posting it myself. Happy Halloween!


Uncle's Taxi Ride

Through the chill-fogged windows, shapes manifested here and there within the mist, darting around the cab like the wind personified. Suddenly, a gust of wind hit the side of the taxi like a battering ram. Before the passengers could let out a scream another gust slammed the other side of the cab, rocking it off its wheels.
            The wind banged the cab around several more times before settling back to circling the taxi again. Mary and Lucas Connor peered out the windows, hoping to see something on the side of the mountain road through the frosted windows. Uncle, their taxi driver, assured the couple everything was alright and that they were close to their destination now, the most haunted spot on the island. “I like to think of the strong winds as spirits trying to get at our souls,” Uncle said with a raspy laugh.
            Lucas looked out his window, not seeing anything except the shadows slowly building in the fog. To him, the haunted places they visited today all lacked the same thing – a haunting. To him, the spookiest thing the isles offered wasn’t the places Uncle drove them to, but rather Uncle himself. The only thing he did know for certain was that Uncle was not his real name, and only because he told them. “Just call me Uncle,” he had said when they first got into his cab outside the hotel. “No one’s able to pronounce my real name anymore. It’s much too long and much too old.”
Mary spotted a handprint on the window. It was definitely an adult handprint, the palm impression slightly darker than that of the fingers. It wasn’t the normal, oily, greasy handprint on glass. Instead it looked as if the cold personified stamped its mark upon the glass. Curious, Mary placed her hand on the impression only to quickly pull back. It was cold, not just to the touch but to the soul – freezing her inside as well as out.
 “Looks like we’re here,” Uncle said without slowing the taxi. The scent of decay filled the cab, turning their eyes to Uncle. The man looked back at the Connors; his eyes glowed an eerie red and sank into his skull, like lava in a volcano pit, like the entrance into Hell. His skin began to pale, other parts yellowing, and some sections even peeling away to reveal the bone underneath. His white teeth, smiling in greeting, transformed into a predator anticipating a feast.
            Mary and Lucas screamed from the backseat of the cab. Inhuman laughter echoed through the cab, drowning out the screams of the passengers and the protests of the wind. The sound was enough to rattle the cab and unhinge Mary and Lucas Connor. Mary placed her hand on the glass, looking for an escape. Instead she felt the pressure of another hand coming from the other side of the glass. She screamed and withdrew, clutching onto Lucas for hope.
            Outside, the ghostly faces peered in, letting out inaudible screams. Some raced away back into the fog. Some stayed, banging themselves into the sides of the taxi. And the face closest to the glass, with defeat in its eyes, mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” With that, the ghosts darted from the taxi as it disappeared into the mist.
            Later that night, a taxicab pulled into a mysteriously empty stall in the front of the hotel and Mary and Lucas Connor got out. Up on the sixth floor, the Lee family tried their best to sleep through the windstorm battering itself against the window. Outside, the Connor’s joined the others in their pounding and screaming, knowing well it was all the warning they could give, and knowing well it would go unheeded.

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