Detective Harland steps into his cramped one bedroom apartment and tosses his jacket and keys onto a couch that is already covered in clothes. He lights a cigarette while stepping into the kitchen and cracks the fridge open. Mostly empty shelves stared back at him, with the exception of beer bottles all with different labels, a half eaten block of cheese on a paper plate, and three jugs of Jack Daniels. Twisting the cap off he takes a greedy swig of one before pouring some into a plastic cup from a convenience store. He plops down onto the couch and flips through channels, the television was already on and had waves of static clinging to the picture. Chugging the liquid fire he closes his eyes and pictures what couldn’t be unseen. The blood, the intestines, what those children must have went through.
The news comes on and a host in a pink two piece clears her throat. She doesn’t look prepared to say what she needs to, but the cameras were rolling and the lights were glimmering upon her face. She looks towards the camera and begins, “A tragedy occurred today, fourteen children lost their lives today during a class trip to Moo-”
The screen shuts off and the remote is tossed past it. He heads to the restroom and begins to unbutton his shirt revealing a muscle shirt. Through his loose threaded shirt a pink scar ridged across his shoulder. He rubs it with caution, as if he were to break something by doing so. “It’s happening again,” he mutters. Staring into his reflection his cold, dead eyes reflect on locked memories he had suppressed, tainting his soul once more into a tanget of anguish.
Sara inhales her third cigarette and ashes onto the glass table missing the ashtray. Her eyes felt dry and drained of any retaining fluid, like she had run out of tears. But her empty shell was still broken, the mourning had other ways of violating any positivity and good left in her. She looks up through the window and sees a woman in a pink two piece talking to the screen, almost as if she specifically meant to hurt her by bringing up the tragedy. Sara drops her cigarette and strums inside, angrily staring at the television. She grips the top and screams while throwing it down. The glass cracks on the ground, with it was the turning of her emotional faucet as fresh tears were able to spill out once more. Dropping to her knees she rocks back and forth with her arms hugging her stomach.
2 Nights Ago
Coach Mark continues to use his wide body as a blockade to keep the children from going to the front. “It’s just an animal trying to cross the road, I need everyone to take their seats please.” Looking back he whispers, “Ted, can’t you go around i-”
Coach Mark tumbles to his right colliding with the other side of the bus wall, kids follow his lead tumbling into leather seats with uncomfortable bars underneath the worn fabric, others go between the seats hitting the window slots. The impact of whatever hit the bus was powerful enough to dent a large crater into one side as the bus flipped onto its side. The space between bodies became a rain shower of broken glass. Tiffany Farswell unfortunately got caught between the center of the indention and the seat near it, broken bars pierced her stomach and back pinning her to the seat, while blood seeped over the edges.
The coach rolls over onto his hands and knees, shaking loose glass from his hair he tries to focus on what just happened. Cries and screams could be heard from every direction, but something he didn’t hear were voices from outside. His best guess was that they just endured one hell of a car wreck, or what felt like a train had rammed into them. He crawls towards the front pressing his palms onto shards, unaware of Tiffany’s body bleeding out three seats behind him. He makes it to the front and rises to his feet, Tim’s head made contact with the steering wheel as his physical thoughts spilled from a broken bridge in the center of his head. Coach Mark groans and turns to twist the lever to open the door.
Amy, with minor cuts and bruises, begins to yell over the others, “What happened? Coach!”
“Hold on, I’m trying to get us out of here!” He yells back unaware of who he was responding to. Becky lay slumped backwards, against the metal frame. Her mind was in a thick fog of confusion. She didn’t feel hurt but at that point it could have been adrenaline rushing. She tries to sit up and her hand goes into nothing causing her to tip over. She catches the edge of the window frame and looks down, the bus landed on a trench area and with the shattered windows it opened a space for them to crawl out of. She turns back to Coach to try to suggest it, but he was already pushing the rubber edged doors open manually because the lever snapped.
He strains his muscular arms against the doors and begins to push. “Tiffany!” Robby cries out as he notices her between the wreckage laying lifeless. Coach Mark ignores his scream, his main goal was to get everyone out before looking at anything else. If Robby hadn’t yelled at that exact moment, he would have heard the low growling just on the other side of the doors.
The doors pop open and he breaths a sigh of relief. “Alright we’re gonna do this in a calm and collecti-” Coach Mark’s body is heaved upwards in a lightning fast flash, kids near the front couldn’t even see what happened. All that was visible was his body jerking with his legs squirming in mid air. He made one half attempted scream and then came the blood. A waterfall of red began to pour down his body in sloppy fountains gushing across the floor. His body falls to the floor revealing only the lower torso.
Kids begin to scream running towards the back, crawling over each other, panicking. Bethany stands up to climb over a seat near the top window, a fur coated arm flies in bursting claws into her eyes and ear holes. It pulls upwards hitting the edge of window, her spinal cord slides out in a jerked motion letting her body flop down. A tattered hole resided where her head once sat.
Tears are flowing as some begin to duck down and try to hide between seats. Others break down screaming for their parents. In a panicked reflex, Becky slides into the trench and grabs Amy telling her to follow. Amy looks down into the hollowed space and then to the back door. A loud screeching sound skitted across the metal, the emergency exit then rips open. Amy’s pulled down to the trench by Becky, who then begins to crawl out from under the edge onto weeds and bushes. She crouches and turns around whispering, “Hurry!”
Amy reaches out and grips her hand, both making it to the outside. Screams echo in a chorus of fear. Whatever was inside was out of view due to it being on the side, all that could be heard were kids screaming, and a loud roar before. Becky grabs Amy’s shoulder and pulls her away as they both begin to run towards the woods. Under the light of the full moon, a vicious howl came from somewhere behind.