The Passenger

The last words I uttered were “til death do us part”. The blissful moment that I dreamt of every day for my entire life was short lived. As the church bells rang the screams began: my screams. After that there was only chaos. Chaos, pain, and then darkness.

My eyes flutter open as he kneels beside me, telling me he loves me. I love you too, Jason. What happened? Wait.. What the hell..? Why aren’t my lips moving? Why can’t I speak? WHY can’t I MOVE? The only sound that escapes my lips is a low moan. 

Tears fall from his eyes and roll down his cheeks. It’s okay, my love. I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I.. I don’t feel anything.. just.. hunger. I subconsciously reach a shaking, pale hand up towards his cheek. My fingers graze his skin, clean shaven with just a hint of stubble coming in, and I drag my perfectly manicured nails across it, scratching his flawless face. No! I didn’t mean to do that! My dear, sweet Jason, what have I done? I’m so sorry! If my heart could still beat it would quicken at the sight, at the smell of the blood that encircles my cuticles as my nails pierce into that soft flesh. The sensations ensnare my senses and entice me, entice my body. Not the real me. The real me is horrified. 

He lets out a shriek, stands up and flees from me. Jason, my love? Please, don’t leave me! It was just an accident. I lost control for just a moment. I don’t know what came over me! I roll over, a tangle of legs and skirt, and shakily rise to my feet. Where is everyone? Where did everyone go?

I hobble after him. One of my strappy white heels is missing. I have no control over the movements; my body is on autopilot. WHAT the FUCK is happening? I follow him past the rows of oaken pews, through a trail of pink rose petals and spattered blood. Some of it is his, and some belonged to the monster that did this to me. I stagger through the open doors, following him, watching his every move. 

All of our guests, our friends and family, are in the parking lot, turning towards the sound of Jason’s footsteps. Oh, God. They’re all hurt... I’m hurt, too, I think. Someone hurt me. Why can’t I feel it anymore? Why can’t I control myself? Jason, please, please don’t run away. Please, help me. I need you. The hunger drives me, not me, but my body, towards him. I am not drawn to the others. They are not prey. They are hungry, like me. Jason darts between patches of fern fronds and salal bushes and into the woods, and so do I, and so do they.

The air is cold, but I do not feel it. No breathe escapes my lips. I should be shivering. My body is driven by an urge that it cannot ignore. It wants to seize him, consume him, sink my teeth into his warm flesh and never let him go. For years he chased me, but now I am in his pursuit. There isn’t a place I wouldn’t go to get to him, and my body will never tire.

The white chiffon of my skirt snags on a branch. My dress is fucking ruined. It’s covered in blood. My blood.. Am I.. dead? I can’t be, I’m walking. But I can’t stop! I can’t run? God, why did I hurt him? Why can’t I control myself? The gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach is what controls me, and in this moment only he can satiate that.

He stumbles on a fallen alder. I am gaining on him. His scent grows stronger, more pungent, as I draw nearer. His cologne is no longer what drives me wild: it’s the coppery scent of his blood in the air. It would make me, the real me, feel sick, but my body craves it. And my body is calling the shots. 

The others like me are at my side, behind me, and before me, as we stagger and stumble towards him. He clambers up and over the fallen alder, and continues into the woods, panting raggedly. Jason, please, wait for me, I promise I won’t hurt you again! WHY CAN’T I TALK?! What the fuck is WRONG with me?! 

I let out a low moan and see him turn and look back at me. He looks horrified. By me? My dear, sweet Jason. My husband! I don’t understand what’s happening. Please, don’t leave me with these freaks. I’m not like them. I can’t be. I’m yours. He doesn’t see the others in front of him as he wastes those precious seconds to look back. I try to yell, look out! but all that comes out is a low, guttural growl. When he turns towards them he screams. I see them grab my beloved. No! Jason, run! Their teeth are tearing into him. His white suit shirt is drenched in wet crimson. For the love of God, Jason, get up! 

And then I am on him, too. He screams my name as my hand moves over his scalp, tightens into a ball and grasps his hair. My jaws clench; my teeth are on his ear as I begin to pull. No, please, stop it! Jason, I can’t stop! I don’t mean it, please baby you have to know that I don’t mean it. I don’t want to hurt you. I love you! I’m so sorry. I pull harder, feeling tension until the skin gives way, ripping the appendage from his head, and I am in covered in his blood. LET ME OUT! He is writhing on the ground. LET ME OUT! PLEASE SOMEBODY JUST FUCKING KILL ME INSTEAD! There are a dozen of us on him: pulling, biting, tearing, ripping, consuming my beloved Jason. This is not the wedding reception I anticipated. PLEASE, I WANT TO GO! MAKE IT STOP! Make ME stop! The light goes out from his eyes and I watch my beloved slump over. I WANT TO GO AWAY. I WANT TO DIE. I CANT TAKE THIS. Please. Please. Please, Jason, I’m so sorry. Make it stop. I can’t make it stop. SOMEBODY JUST FUCKING KILL ME!

We back away from my beloved Jason, still devouring his entrails and various pieces of the man who was my husband for mere moments. Leave him be, please! Leave his body, his poor, beautiful body. His mangled body begins to convulse. Jason? He slowly sits up, and a coil of intestines spills from a gaping wound in his abdomen. How… Are you actually..? No.. Oh, God, please don’t become one of us. Please, just die. It’d be better that way. Oh, Jason, my love, I’m so sorry. 

He slowly climbs to his feet, and lets out a hissing breath. There is no humanity left in his eyes: only hunger. He is like me, like us. Forgive me, my love. Now we will hunt together, til death do us part.