Another Doe
By: Barbara King
Tags: Horror Fiction, Horror Writing, Thriller, Horror Stories, Horror

It was time to fly through the red lights.

Unable to curb my hunger for even a moment longer, it is time to make my way to the ice-cream shop only a few miles from my home.

This time of night it only the lonely who venture out.

My mind is lost in dozens of thoughts as my eyes see only the haze of red in my vision.

At the very moment of passing through the bright flashing light, my front bumper comes into contact with a hard object. A flash of white encases my vision, blocking out the windshield for a brief moment before continuing over the top of my car.

My hunger wanes, as I come to a complete stop to inspect the damage.

Calling for help would do me no good, nobody would be able to hear me over that women’s obstinate screaming. She is so very loud and high pitched like a stray cat writhing in a storm drain.

With no desire to leave my car, I switch it into reverse and back up until I feel the object clear under my back tire. The screams come to an immediate end and I thankfully I hear nothing, the street again is filled with silence.

I switch the car back to drive and keep it rolling down the deserted highway, only sparing a glance in my rearview mirror for a brief moment to see the pools of red turn a muddy color under the now green light in the distance.

I reach for my phone and press the icon for speed dial and wait for someone to pick up.

As the phone begins to ring I watch the red drops dance across my windshield from the highway wind until finally, the voice of my brother comes on the other end.

“Mike’s Body Shop, you bend it, we mend it. How can I help you?”

“Hey Mike, it’s Jim, I got another dent and stain on the front end, a damn doe ran out in front of me.”

“Bring it right over, I’ll have it fixed up in a jiff. I have a rental you can borrow if you need to be somewhere tonight, but only if you avoid the fucking deers”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips at the very thought.

“Sounds great, be there in twenty.”

Hanging up and placing the phone back on the console beside me I let my mind take in the scenery.

I’ve driven these roads for years, but tonight looking through the cracked red stained glass the fall foliage along the highway stood out more than anything else.

Shapes of red flames fly through the air in the night breeze, a few land on my windshield, and stick within the cracks and refusing to let the highway wind shake them from my sight.

I feel within me, two things happening simultaneously in my mind.

I am finding peace while slipping into a madness no words could describe.

I can feel both dripping down and consuming my body. As madness rolls itself over my tongue I taste its bitter intricacies and its sweet aftertaste. I swallow it and let it take over me. Sliding down my throat and taking its rest around my heart.

I pull up to the shop and exchange a brief one-armed embrace with my brother, and hand him the keys.

He began meticulously looking into each crevice of my front end, leaving no inch untouched.

The white paint of my Toyota looked like a beautiful splatter painting with so many hidden details within each pool of paint.

The flash of a camera jogged me from my admiration as Mike took his routine picture. “Just leave it to me, but that crack in the windshield will cost ya a bit extra. Definitely will need replacing”

My eyes began to roam the large crack that began in the very center before spreading its arms to every inch of its frame.

I watch as the blood pools within the crack almost as if it is the glue holding together the shattered fragments.

As my brother begin his work, I start to wonder if anybody has come across the woman in the street.

Lying almost unrecognizable in a pool of her own blood. Her face printed with a bit of pavement and exposed skull. Would her husband or lover recognize the soul within the shattered empty shell? She had looked like an angel in her white dress when she flew upon the hood of my car. Though I doubt she was one. With heels so high and dress that tight there could’ve been only one reason, she tried to flag me down on that stretch of road.

With a returning insatiable hunger for ice cream, I began to look for the keys to any of the rentals he has.

Leaving for a moment and returning with a set in his hand I don’t hesitate before flashing my hand out and making a grab for them.

I can see in his eyes he thinks I am lost or losing something I’m not sure which, but I rush into the chill air before jumping into the white truck as madness lick at my lips.

I speed off unto the highway looking for something to calm my hunger. No music, no screaming, no distractions, just the sound of heavy breathing and wind fills the cab as the truck roars through the night on the dark highway. This road, always familiar leads me as if it knows my desires to a twenty-four-hour diner.

I pull into the nearly empty parking lot and make my way to the door.

An old woman stands behind the counter with hair an unnatural shade of blue and the only soul seemed to be an old drunkard passed out in a booth.

A quick glance at the menu tells me I will find no cure for my hunger here.

Their prized ice cream flavors are too dull and bland for my taste.

I slam the cheap plastic menu back upon the counter and stalk out into the night, once again climbing into my rented truck in search of something to fill the aching need clawing deep within me.

Driving around these dark roads begins to leave me too much time to think, as I try to keep my mind off the dark feeling that seems to latch on to me from the shadows I pass.

My thoughts drift to my sister.

The image of her and her daughter lying abandoned and bloody in the street.

My niece’s little body so mangled it was hard for the police to tell it had once been the body of a child.

A monster had done that and they had never found him. The white paint of his car had been embedded into the small frame of my sister’s body. A man who police say must’ve been drunk.

My sister and niece did not die alone that day, a part of myself joined them when I awoke the next day and came to notice the crack along the windshield of my car.

The sound of a horn blaring behind me shakes me from my memories as I realize for the first time tonight I have stopped at a red light.

I continue to sit here as it turns back to green.

I was in no mood to do as the man behind me commands with the bellowing of his horn so I decide to stay where I am until he either gets out of his car or goes around me.

Sure enough, a few moments later the door of his SUV flies open and the enraged man steps towards my truck.

In a flash, with one hand gripping tightly to the spare tire iron, I jump from my truck and on to the man who had decided to leave the safety of his vehicle.

The hunger within me flares as I bring the iron down upon him, his hands raised in front of his face as if they can protect him.

His glasses smash as pieces of the lens pierce his eyes and spray blood upon my clothes.

When finally the man stops defending himself and drops immobile to the ground I notice another sound coming from his car.

The whimpering and screams from the car pull me towards it.

With the iron still gripped firmly, I walk over the body of the man and step up to the Suv only to find the door locked, but three visible, distractions within.

I bring the iron crashing down upon the side door of their plain colored vehicle until the fragments of glass spray onto the street and within the SUV, covering the ebony-skinned women within.

I reach through the now opened window, grasping the handle to pull the door open.

Though much weaker than I, she attempts to hold the door closed but fails.

Now, pulling her out by the neck of her shirt it only takes two swings of my iron to make the screaming just another sound coming from the back seat of the car.

Two more distractions remain screaming as I pull them from their restraints, before becoming as easily silenced as the first two.

Though the obstinate screaming has stopped, the hunger is still burning and enraged within me.

I don’t think as the madness takes control of my body, dragging the four bodies from where they lay and arrange them within a perfect line on the street.

After being arranged with a tires length between them I grab my iron and throw it into the cab of my truck, climbing in and starting the engine.

I pulled my truck around the SUV and aligned my wheels in the perfect place to cause unrecognizable damage.

Pressing slowly on the gas at first I clear all four obstacles, but still, the burning sensation is there, even after throwing the truck into reverse and repeating the motion.

I throw the car into drive, it seems nothing can help this feeling within me.

I repeat the cycle of driving over the bumps and reversing several times before I speed off to find something else to relieve me of this hunger.

The highway is still dark and empty and there isn’t a soul to be found. So I take the first exit into the city.

Only monsters are awake in a city like this at two in the morning.

As I make the turn onto the next stretch of road I glance within my rearview mirror and notice a thin line of red is following behind my truck.

Pulling over onto the side of the road to examine what could be causing this.

Exiting my truck and leaning down I aim a flashlight beneath and see the small mangled limb of what might have once been an arm of a child.

The hunger within me flares and jumps back into the cab and speeds off into the city leaving a trail of red behind me.

The blood is running in rivers from the front of my truck until almost past the front doors on both sides were now covered in congealing darkening blood.

I start taking turn after turn through the deserted city needing to find one more, just one more thing to cure my hunger.

My foot urged the pedal forward and my hands grip the wheel and then I see her.

I bring my truck to an immediate stop at the end of the street.

Her pale white skin shines brightly beneath the street light as she leans against the red-bricked wall.

Black leather boots hug her calves as she kisses the end of her cigarette.

I could take the hunger for her no more as I press the gas pedal as far to the floor as it will go, tires almost left behind as the truck jerks forward.

She doesn’t look up until we are only a few feet apart, bodies close enough we could kiss.

I feel myself leave the seat and become one with the cracks upon the windshield.

My own blood begins to pool within its new design joining hers.

Along the side of the wall, the front end of my truck fuses with the shattered brick wall.

Blood dyeing the bricks a darker shade of crimson.

My vision becomes a cloud of red, as my mind finds its peace.

B. King