Tired beyond measure, classes and her job so tiring on her (and she was only in her third semester - so many yet ahead of her), Sarah walked slowly down the steps that led to the underground PATH station.
A young woman, not yet old enough to drink alcohol, Sarah was almost waspishly thin. The semi-short black skirt she wore showed that, although thin, she was lithe; her long legs were shapely and strong, her small firm breasts pressed out against her white button-up top that was loosely tucked into her skirt. No nylons, not at the club, and a pair of 1'' heels. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a tail, the color of her hair highlighting her powerful blue eyes.
The smell didn't assault her down her like it usually did, but it was also almost 3 AM - there was no one here on a Sunday night to stink the place up. In the day hours, this stairway was a crush of human stink, with so many cramming up the stairs at once. She payed her token, pushed through the bar and walked onto the PATH train platform. The train wasn't do for a good five minutes or so yet.
Sarah sat on a wooden bench, setting her bookbag next to her. Class was so early tomorrow, she didn't know why she was bothering with the train ride back to Jersey City; should just find an all night diner and drink coffee till class. But, godddd she wanted a shower. It had been a long night at the club, and instead of closing early, she had ended
up tending bar for a loud, goofy, drunken birthday party. The tips had been fantastic; the more they drank, the freer they were with their money.
The sheer amount of cigarette smoke, though - she still stank of it. She was going to have a shower, a clean tee, and at least 5 hours sleep if it killed her.
Yawning, she turned her head, hearing footsteps coming slowly down the stairs. Grinning as she hid her yawn, she guessed another weary second shifter was heading home.
She saw his boots first, and jeans that hung over and down to the laces. Dark brown, heavy boots; scuffed and warn. The hem of a black leather trench coat was next as he continued slowly down the stairs. It was about then that time seemed to act weird for Sarah. It... slowed.
The coat hung open, revealing his faded blue jeans, so faded they were almost a blue tinged white in color. His hands were in the lower pockets of the coat, almost casually in position. His black t-shirt was next, with a white cartoon and words emblazoned on it. She couldn't make it out from this distance, not without her glasses and they were home.
He was tall, but not too much so. His shoulders spread out the coat, however. He had a... strength about him that was unusual.
She saw his beard, dark blonde, full yet not ragged and a small, odd grin.
Then... she saw his eyes. Either green or blue, they looked at her... and it suddenly seemed as if he were next to her, so close they almost touched. Yet he was still descending stairs at 75 feet away.
His thick dark blonde hair looked as if it needed a good brushing, maybe even a washing.
Sarah didn't notice that her breathing had slowed. She didn't notice that she was staring at him enrapt. She did notice that she felt a strange fear of this man that she had never experienced before.
He stepped down onto the platform from the first step and he continued walking slowly towards her, his eyes never leaving hers.
She whimpered, but heard it as if it were from someone else. Her hand was still raised to cover a yawn she had long ago ended. but now it was almost raised as if in horror.
Closer he was coming, and in direct opposite of her breathing, Sarah's heart was thundering in her chest. Her eyes grew wide as she heard each step...
A echoing thunder came, and the man broke the stare, looking down the tunnel. As if just now awakening, Sarah blinked her eyes and stood, grabbing her bag. The train had come. She was safe.
The lead car rocketed into the station, the loud grinding noise of brakes being applied echoing off of the tiled walls.
She glanced back at the man and couldn't see him. Figured he was behind one of the large square pillars that ran along each edge of the platform. She didn't care - on this train was at least one conductor; if things got spooky again, she'd run for him, or hit the emergency button.
The train stopped, and after a second the doors slid open. As she stepped into the car, she stopped, midway in, looking down along the trains. She waited to see if the spooky bastard would get on. Seeing nothing, she frowned and stepped the rest of the way in. She found a seat facing the side she had come in and sat down, setting her bookbag again next to her. Leaning her head back against the glass window facing the station wall behind her, she released a small sigh as anxiety bled away.
The doors stayed open, as they would for ten minutes as the train waited for late arrivals - at this time of night, the train only ran once an hour. The trip to Jersey took about 40 minutes from this station, and there were no other stops between her and Jersey City. As the minutes passed, Sarah thought about the morning's class - she was doing well this semester, and tomorrow's biology class would determine whether or not she got on the dean's list. She had done some studying at work during her break, had actually gotten some in on the ride to Manhattan Sunday morning.
The doors slid closed, and a moment later the train lurched, it's many electrical powered engines moving it along. She watched as the platform 'passed', the train picking up speed.
Gasping suddenly, seeing the man, that man as the train passed him, looking in directly at her, his smile widening. Her fear was back and double besides. She almost wet herself before he 'passed' from sight.
Still staring, Sarah suddenly broke out laughing. For Christ's sake, Sarah! He didn't get on the fucking train! chill out already. She ended her brief laughter with a long breath drawn in, and leaned back against the glass once more, closing her eyes...
Only a moment or two passed when the door between cars slid open. Opening her eyes, she turned her head on the glass, looking. And would have shrieked if she had had the air to. There stood the man from the station.
Slowly pushing along the row of seats, away from him, Sarah moaned. No... no this... this wasn't happening. He couldn't have gotten on the train, not while it was moving!
Standing with his back to the closed door, hands still in his pockets, the man regarded Sarah as she slowly moved from seat to seat, until she bumped against the end of the row. As he watched, she suddenly got up and ran in the other direction, her heels clicking against the linoleum of the floor of the car. Breathlessly gasping, fearing an asthma attack, Sarah yanked the handle, jerking the door open and rushing out to the next one. Between cars momentarily, the loud noise of the train echoing off the tunnel walls, Sarah grasped the handle of the other car and yanked it open, running in. This car was empty also, and Sarah suddenly realized she was running away from the car the conductor was in - she was heading towards the rear of the train. She ran through the car, too scared to look back over her shoulder although she heard no signs of pursuit.
Into the following car she ran, dodging around the standing bars that ran from ceiling to floor in the middle of the car, her strong legs propelling her for all they were worth, as the train rocked through the tunnel. As she entered the next car, a cry burst from her... it was the last car. Through the car and out the window of the door at the other side, she saw the tunnel racing away.
Turning quickly, she looked through the window of the doors behind her and into the car she had just left. There he was, walking steadily towards her, hands still in his pockets, his gait easy, yet purposeful.
Sarah grabbed the door handle and held it in the locked position with both of her trembling hands as she watched him reach the opposite door. He opened it, stepped out to the space between and looked at her. His eyes traveled down her body, causing her to shudder uncontrollably, down to where her hands gripped the handle.
He smiled wider, drawing his hands from his pockets. She saw how his fingers appeared long, strong... then in a blur of motion, he sprang upwards and disappeared.
Sarah shook her head, her grip intensifying on the door handle... no no no... this was not happening. She did not just see that. With the speed the train was going, the man would be dead. But if he isn't... if he isn't, why would he go up there... unless...
She turned suddenly, releasing the door, looking through the car... and there he was, looking in the opposite door, the tunnel running away behind him.
Sarah moaned again, suddenly feeling weak. That door... that door was kept locked, so idiots wouldn't open it for kicks and fall out to the tracks. But she watched as he reached down, and with a tug, opened it. She barely heard the small metal pieces of the lock fall the floor of the car.
The door slid open and he stepped in.
Sarah pushed back against the door behind her, whimpering. She watched him walk along the length of the car, and knew she wouldn't escape, even if she had gone to the conductor, she couldn't escape this... man.
.... There is more of this story ...