I sit down in my usual seat, eyes darting nervously, fear taking hold of me. I hate riding the train. I have little choice if I want to get to work on time. The ride takes twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of trying not to succumb to an acute anxiety attack over seeing creatures that do not belong in the human world. Fairy tale creatures that belong in books not real life.

The fear stems from an incident when I first rode the train at the age of five. I think my parents are the ones who took me but I can't be sure. I remember feeling safe and secure with them. The first part of the ride was fun. I enjoyed the sound of train wheels over the tracks. The swaying of the train lulled me to sleep until I woke up to mysterious creature who looked like it came directly from hell. I screamed and threw such a fit my parents took me off the next stop. After that, I refused to ride any more trains in the subway.

Good morning Aryn," Mrs. Morgan says, waving cheerily at me. "Why are you standing by the doors? Sit down."

I sit, grateful there are no mythical creatures lurking about. I settle in, listening to Mrs. Morgan's account of her grandkids visit over the weekend forgetting that the visit had been six months ago. She is getting more forgetful by the day and I don't have the heart to correct her. "How are your grandkids?"

"Growing! Tyler is almost taller than me. Shandra won a spelling bee in her district. I'm all but certain she will win the state competition next month."

Which was last July. Concern rises. If she doesn't recall the state competition which she attended then her dementia is getting worse. Working in a nursing home has enabled me to spot the signs. Large blocks of memory are being omitted, dates are mixed up, she recognizes faces but not names. Today is actually a good day as she called me by my real name and not a variation of Ally, Anna and so on. "How wonderful. I'm excited for her."

Mrs. Morgan beams. "Did I tell you Gregory won the track meet last Saturday?"

It's winter, there is snow and ice on the ground but I saying nothing of the weather. "Oh?"

"Yes, he was an anchor in the four man race. They were neck and neck with the competition when he surged ahead and took the prize."

"Good for him." I haven't told her my fears or of the very real presence of mythical creatures. They aren't here yet but they'll come. They always do.

I scan the subway, crowded with familiars, people I recognized by appearance but not by name. A group of medical students huddle in a corner, not quite awake. They carry similar backpacks, drink from the same coffee place, Myra's Coffee Den. ID tags attached to black lanyards hang around their necks identifying GranMercy Hospital as their place of internship. The other end of the car contains the usual office workers in suits, carrying briefcases. In the middle are art students, weary mothers, pinched faced factory workers and teens going to school. Nothing out of the ordinary. A perfectly normal morning. So far.

As soon as Mrs. Morgan doses off, I retrieve a book I've been trying to finish, a historical novel about a protagonist who goes back in time, falls in love, and decides to stay in that time period, despite the prevailing attitudes toward gay people. I'm almost finished, it has to be returned to the library next week. I flip open the red cover, embossed in gold lettering. The setting is gothic, the characters Vampiric, not my usual faire but the plot is compelling enough to get me to read it. I cannot put it down.

I become engrossed in the novel, yet paid attention to the number of stops. My stop is number sixteen on the route, roughly about a twenty minute ride. I'd just gotten to the part where Antonia reveals that she is indeed a Vampire when the atmosphere shifts from benign to dangerous. In the time it takes for me to inhale and exhale, I sense a raw energy then sends my heart racing. I glance up. I see no one out of the ordinary. The medical students have all exited at stop number nine. Seven more to go. Mrs. Morgan is next to leave. She pats me kindly on the shoulder, calls me Jan instead of Aryn and teeters through the open doors.

I have everyone's departure's memorized considering I've been taking this route for two years. I know that at stop twelve, the office workers will exit. Stop thirteen, the teenagers will get off. Just before my stop, the factory workers take off for the factories at stop fifteen. The nursing home is on the outskirts of the factories, not in a very good location but the inside is pleasant.

I resume reading, slightly unsettled. My concentration is off, I can't focus on what Antonia is telling Felicity. She's making her case, pleading with Felicity to stay but I can't seem to dig deep into the nuance of the story. The odd energy hasn't dissipated at all. In fact, with each stop, it grows until I feel like I'm inside a thick cloud of vapor that only I can sense. I glance around. Again, no one is noticing anything out of the ordinary. But I sense it. I can't shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen. I shut the book and put in it my backpack, shoving aside the tattered paper bag containing my lunch to make room for it.

Heart hammering against my chest, I take sips of water. Hydration sometimes takes the edge off my anxiety. I don't want to take another dose so soon after the last one but I'm reaching for the bottle anyway. There are days when I can control my anxiety and days when it controls me. If it gets worse, I'll have to get off at the next stop. I set the book on my lap, unable to read further, and fetch my phone from my backpack. I need a dose of Millie's comforting cheer. She has the knack of bringing me back from the brink. The only one I've told my secret to. Millie carries a heavy burden in keeping me balanced.

Hey, what's up?

Just feeling edgy today.

Anyone lurking?

No. That's the thing. Usually there is one or two in the vicinity. Today, there are none.

And that's got you edgy?

More so than usual. I can't help but feel they're waiting.

Waiting for what?

Not sure.

Always go with your gut. If you think something is off, it probably is. Maybe get off at the next stop just in case.

Thanks.

Of course. I got you. Hate you sucker!

Hate you more.

Not possible. Boss is hovering. TTYL.

Same.

The energy grows stronger. Still no one out of the ordinary. I can't explain it. I don't know what else to call it but some kind of strange energy. I can't define the prickling in my fingers, the icy feeling at the base of my spine, nor the sensation of my hair standing on end even though it isn't. My flight mode is fully activated and I'm for sure getting off at the next stop. I'll walk the three blocks if I have to. I pack everything except my phone.

I think of what Millie is doing right now. Probably making a zillion copies that her boss wants. She works at some mid-rate office building downtown. They're not very well known, the pay is crap but its a job that keeps us off the streets. She puts up with sexual innuedoes, the demands and constant coffee runs to keep us afloat. My job pays even less as I'm an assistant, not really a full fledged nurse. I fetch things for the residents, help feed them, bathe them and even read to them out loud from the daily newspaper.

Millie is confident we'll make it. We both have big dreams and we're determined to make them come true. We want to own a food truck and serve the masses our delicious recipes that we've been creating in secret. Once in a while, we get to cater an event. The practice helps but what we really want is to travel the country selling our food, using local crops along the way. Our recipes are vegan based but tastes so good that one could swear there was meat in our dishes. We make vegan taste good is our motto. So, we plod along, saving up our pennies, building credit, waiting for the day we can quit our jobs and get out. In my opinion, that day can't come soon enough.

Finally, the brakes squeal, the train slows to a crawl and the doors open. I get up with the throng intent on getting off when I'm suddenly shoved backward by unseen hands. Like an invisible force is pushing me backward. I stumble and fall into the vacated seats across the aisle. Momentarily stunned, I'm too slow to react. By the time I get back up, the doors have closed and I'm trapped. No one is left on the train. Surely, the factory workers had gotten off too soon. I scan through the windows for the number but the train whizzes out of the station too fast.

"Let me out!" I pound the glass with my fists. All I get for my efforts are bruised knuckles. I sit down, trembling all over. I'm breathing too hard. The energy hasn't dissipated, if anything, it has increased in power. Overwhelmed, I spy my phone on the floor. The screen is cracked but serviceable. I dial the police station first, and get a busy signal. I try it again then once more. Giving up, I call Millie, hoping she's able to answer her phone. Her boss is picky about his employees using their phones during scheduled working hours. I let it ring twenty times, then send an urgent message, trapped on train, get help.

My finger impatiently taps the phone eyeing the ellipses. Come on answer. The three dots continue wavering without a response. I can't count the number of heart beats but I know its going too fast. Subtle shadows thicken above me. I'm trying to hold on, not succumb to whatever it is that's here on this train with me. Some kind of presence exists but I can't describe it. I feel it more than I see it. I check my phone once more. The dots have stopped. Words appear, just three, all caps.

I SEE YOU.

I drop the phone, fear overtaking me. It's too real to be a dream, yet I exist in a dreamlike state. The walls and windows of the train blur into hazy shadows. Undefined. Unclear. I stagger to my seat and collapse, unable to think. Whoever is here with me, is very close. My phone buzzes repeatedly, skittering across the floor stopping only when it hits the wall. Underneath the seat, across from me, it continues to vibrate insistent that I answer it. Mouth dry, compelled beyond all reason, I get to my knees and crawl to the phone. Thousands of texts repeat the same words, I see you.

A creepy feeling goes up my spine. Someone is here. The sensation is so strong that I turn quickly, scanning the empty compartment. "Where are you?" I find myself shouting the words, tired of being afraid. "Show yourself. Unless you're a coward who likes scaring people. Do you hear me?" I clasp the wobbly leg that hasn't been fixed since I started riding the Subway two years ago. I push the metal and pull until it loosens the screws. With my library card, I unscrew it all the way and heft it in my hand. Feeling more prepared now, I shout, "Where are you?"

All at once, the lights flicker out. In the dark, I grope for my phone. By touch, I turn on the flashlight, swinging the phone back and forth. The light catches something human shaped, but with pointed ears, spiky blond hair and green glowing eyes. I scream and drop the phone shattering the glass.

*
2087 words.

Bit of a rough draft but I like the prompt well enough to give this a try.