Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Flight of the Lost (standard:horror, 1829 words)
Author: Paul BenvinAdded: Jun 07 2004Views/Reads: 3218/2088Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This plane is cursed.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

please find their seat, Ms. Bauer will walk you through the flight 
instructions. As always, thank you for flying Charter Airlines, and 
have a pleasant trip.” 

With that, the overhead speaker fell silent, and the bubbly Ms. Bauer
informed everyone what to do in case of an emergency – bend over and 
kiss your ass goodbye, Karen thought – how to buckle the seatbelts, and 
what the in flight movie would be. Luckily for her she had already seen 
Cats and Dogs, so as the plane coasted out onto the runway, Karen 
pulled the lever on the reclining seat and fell into a deep slumber. 

She abruptly woke up, out of breath and sweating profusely. The aircraft
was shaking violently in severe up and down motions, and the overhead 
lights were flickering on and off. Glancing around frantically, she was 
surprised to notice that all the other passengers were asleep. They 
were all oblivious to what was going on around them. Then, as quick as 
it had begun, the plane leveled off and was steady again. Karen, 
visibly shaken and wide awake now, let out an audible breath as she 
slowly stood up on trembling legs and made her way to the ladies room. 

“What the hell was that,” she said into the mirror. “Not exactly a good
way to start your vacation.” She turned on the faucet and splashed a 
handful of cold water onto her face. 

When she got back to her seat the old man sitting next to her was awake
and thumbing through a copy of The New York Times, the faint glow of 
his reading lamp casting eerie shadows upon his wrinkled face. 

“Fly much?” 

“Pardon me,” Karen said as she sat down. 

“Do you fly much,” the old man responded as he closed the paper. 

“Not very often, but I've been on planes before.” 

“I only ask because of the way you ran off after we hit the turbulence
back there. Some people can't handle it.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty unnerving,” she said as she reached into her pocket
for her lipstick. 

“You don't need that,” the old man said as he leaned in closer to her.
“You're a very beautiful girl.” He was grinning now, and Karen noticed 
most of his teeth were gone. 

“Thanks,” she said hesitantly. “You're very kind.” She didn't want to
have this conversation anymore. 

“My wife – she's dead – used to wear that stuff. When I told her I
didn't like when she wore it, you know what she said to me?” He was 
inches from her face now, his breath reeking of something similar to 
rotten fish. 

“What?” She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and the
salad she had eaten earlier in the day felt like it was about to come 
up. 

“She told me it wasn't for me anyway. Can you believe that?” 

“Excuse me,” she said as she hurriedly got up and walked back to the
bathroom. As soon as the door was shut, vomit sprayed from her mouth 
with such force that it came out her nose. She brought her hands to her 
mouth in an attempt to contain it, but the thick sludge just forced its 
way through the cracks in her fingers. She wobbled over to the toilet, 
one hand over her mouth and the other on the wall, and unleashed the 
full onslaught into the open bowl. As Karen cleaned herself up, the 
lights flickered once, twice, and then went dead. 

The temperature unexpectedly dropped, and in a matter of seconds the
chill in the air permeated every corner of the plane, making the hairs 
on the back of Karen's neck stand at attention. She took a deep breath 
and let it out slowly, marveling at the steam that poured from her 
mouth. Her entire body began to shake uncontrollably. As she stood 
there in the cramped bathroom, cold and afraid, there was a jarring 
knock on the door. 

“Hello,” came a distorted voice from the other side. “Are you alright in
there?” 

“I'm, uh, I'm fine,” Karen responded. “Just a little woozy, that's all.”


“Well open the door honey, and we'll see if we can't fix you right up.” 

“I'll be out in a minute,” came Karen's shaky voice from inside. 

“Open the door now,” the muddled voice demanded. “You can't stay in
there forever.” 

“Jesus, can I have a few minutes please,” Karen said. “I'm really not
feeling too well.” 

“Listen child,” the voice sounded angry now, almost inhuman, “we don't
want to do it, but we'll force our way in if we have to. Just make it 
easy on yourself and this will all be over in just a few minutes.” 

We? Karen thought. 

“Please, leave me alone,” Karen sheepishly responded. She felt another
wave of vomit begin to stir in the pit of her stomach. 

THUMP! – THUMP! – THUMP! 

“They really are going to break the door down,” Karen whispered to
herself. “Un-fucking-believable.” 

Karen swung the door open, expecting to see a flight attendant or
another passenger, but what she saw was not from this world. Standing 
there was the rotten and disfigured shape of a woman long dead. Most of 
her hair was gone, and what remained was a tattered and disheveled 
mess. Chunks of flesh were missing from her face revealing the gnarled 
and stringy muscle beneath, and maggots could be seen swarming in the 
infected depths where her skin used to be. Looking past this abhorrent 
thing, Karen noticed that the plane had changed completely. What was 
once a fully functional passenger jet was now just a crumpled and 
mangled shell. The metal was rusted, like it had been under water for 
some time, and all the windows were gone. Whole sections of seats were 
missing, and the ones that remained were ripped and tattered. As she 
peered out one of the holes, she could see the stars passing by in 
rapid succession. They were still in the air. As she stood there 
shaking her head, Karen Marshall became aware of more beings gathering 
in the aisles, each in varying stages of decomposition. 

“You're with us now,” the dead woman said as she started to advance, her
outstretched arms dripping pools of rotting ooze. “We're going to take 
good care of you.” 

As Karen began to scream, a single bolt of lightning blistered the night
sky, briefly illuminating the airborne graveyard as it continued its 
endless journey into the deep and dark expanses from beyond the grave. 


   


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Paul Benvin has 2 active stories on this site.
Profile for Paul Benvin, incl. all stories
Email: pbenvin@hotmail.com

stories in "horror"   |   all stories by "Paul Benvin"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy