5 of 211

Write now Article Tools

Page 3 of 4

a doctor Anthony, you really can't remember slitting my throat on the night my daughter was married?"

Anthony's mind raced and in a sharp moment of recollection, he saw this man in his mind, he had placed him. He saw this man sitting in limousine struggling with an assailant who was taking a razor to his throat. The assailant was Anthony and the man was one of his first contract kills when he was a twenty-three year old.

"Lou Moretti? I...I killed you thirty years ago. What the hell is going on here?"

"Anthony, you did kill me. You carried out your bosses orders for a few hundred dollars. You did a good job, and you were revered in your boss's eyes. Congratulations for making a career out of it, not a lot of people could keep the stomach for this kind of thing for so long. You must be really special to keep going and going for such a long time."

Anthony scrambled to grab the back of the seat and pulled himself up. He slipped and fell to the filthy train floor. He was terrified, but Anthony knew that one way or another he needed to get off this train or at the very least, wake up and leave this distorted nightmare behind. As Anthony reached for the seat to get a hold of anything that would help him off the floor, the train hit another tunnel and the lights flickered for a few seconds leaving him reaching out for some stationary object that he could not find with his hands. When the lights came back on, the bluish hue was much dimmer and the train seemed like it was in even more of a dream state. It started getting incredibly hot in the car and Anthony began sweating from his sideburns and under his neck. As Anthony adjusted his eyes to the dark blue light, he saw a pair of shoes right in front of his face. The shoes were gray and dusty and the light colored filth extended up the legs of the pants. Anthony's eyes scanned up and he saw that this was a different person in front of him. This one Anthony knew without having to play the games with his memory.

"Mickey DeLuca...you can't be here. You can't be here! Mickey, I left you in the river a long time ago. You were put in concret and dropped in the river. There is no way you survived that, there's no god damned way!"

Mickey bent at the knees and stared directly into Anthony's eyes. He was younger than Lou Moretti, but no less pale. His flesh was wrinkled a great deal, and his eyes were completely black.

"You're right Salvo, you did leave me dead in the river. The same way you sliced up old Lou ova' here, you

• << previous page
• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Short stories: Tales of horror?
We want to hear your view. Write now!