The Lie of Telling the Truth

“Fucking finally.”

Jason closed the email window on the computer, tipping his head back as he stretched his arms out in front of him. A quick press of the power button and the blue screen turned black. Blinking his eyes, Jason realized the office lights were already dimmed from the janitor coming through. It was time to go. Standing, Jason marched over to the water dispenser and brought a filled cup back to the desk.

It was quiet in the open floor. Only the vents overhead puffing to circulate the dry air as noise. The rattling of the pill bottle Jason pulled from his jacket pocket seemed obnoxious in such an organized building. The absence of witnesses almost made it worth having to work another two hours to get tomorrow’s meeting notes sent to the boss. God, he hates their email system. Zero notifications even when he had the damn thing open in the background. He’d glared at his screen when he’d gone to send his completed work the first time. Two white pills glared back at him from his palm.

“So stupid.”

Jason took a breath, swallowing the pills then washing the taste down with the water. He gagged. The taste never got better even after eight horrible months. Throwing the now empty cup into a small waste bin, Jason made his way towards the elevators. Sleep sounded nice about then.

He pushed the down button, which lit up with a soft click. The air vents hissed loudly above Jason, yet no breeze brushed against his scalp.

“Huh?”

Looking directly above him, the angled metal grate hid the air duct from view. Jason stared. Nothing but grey paint peeling away from poorly concealed rust. Another hiss. A small trickle of the orange dust fell, hitting Jason square in the face.

“Fuck!”

Jason quickly closes his eyes, rubbing the denim sleeve of his jacket over his face and taking a step back. The rough fabric is hardly soothing on his skin. Maybe splurging on denim instead of sticking with his old cotton zip-up was a bad idea. But his eyes didn’t sting anymore. Blinking his eyes open, Jason stares at the smear of orange on blue.

“Damn.”

The elevator doors opened.

“Stupid fucking building.”

Jason rushed into the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. He closed his eyes with the closing of the doors. Breathe in. Breathe out. Soon he’d be home. Soon he’d be able to take a nice long shower. Then sleep. Jason’s hands twitched to take out a cigarette. He probably wouldn’t ever forgive his coworker for getting him to join her on smoke breaks.

The walk out of the building and onto the sparsely populated sidewalks of the city was completely forgetful, as always. The subway station smelled like piss, as always. Jason shifted his weight from his left foot to his right, lighting a cigarette in hopes that its ashy smoke would fill up his nose instead. It didn’t. Now he had to deal with this damn smoke and the damn piss.

“Fuck.”

He let the cigarette burn down between his fingers, arms crossed, pulled his stiff denim jacket around his frame. A few feet away from him, three teenagers laughed at something on their phones. Jason looked down to the grimy cement at his feet. He bet he looked like he belonged here in this dirty subway, worn shoes with their own stains on them. A glance up at the arrival time for the train. Four minutes. Jason turned and walked towards a bench further down the station. It had an ash tray near it, which Jason knew he needed soon feeling the burning embers of the cigarette kiss his fingers. Jason crushed the cigarette into the sand filled tray then sat down.

Maybe he should quit this stupid job. Was the money really worth the long hours? Didn’t feel like it. Jason closed his eyes, wrapping his crossed arms tighter around himself. His Dad was fucking right. Mom was right too. He couldn’t do this living on his own crap. One of the teenagers scream loudly while another cheers causing Jason to look back over to them. They’re rushing towards the stairs, one now being chased by the other two. Jason slams his eyes closed, inhaling sharply. The smell of piss and a cigarette.

“Fuck.”

“The Blue Line West train will be arriving in two minutes. The Blue Line West train will be arriving in two minutes.”

Jason opens his eyes to glance at the arrival time. Two minutes. Closing his eyes, he lets himself sink in the seat. He’d be back at the apartment soon. Squeezing and releasing his sides, Jason wills himself to focus on the quiet echoes in the subway. Wind. Distant screeches of other trains on metal tracks. Remnants of voices talking. His own breathing. His heartbeat. The rustle of his jacket. A hiss near his ear.

Slamming his eyes open, Jason rushed to turn his body around and stand at the same time. He fell off the bench onto his ass. There was nothing behind the bench.

“What the – ”

Six sickly gray fingers curled around the edge of the bench.

“Shit – ”

A crouching gray form slithered around the back of the bench. Jason began moving backwards across the ground, eyes trained on the thing.

“What the fuck!”

It was both boney and blubbery, pointed at joints as dirty translucent fat hung in-between. A large mouth with stained teeth stretched into existence.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

Jason scrambled to his feet. He’s standing. The thing stands. The motion of turning to run causes the sole of his right shoe to rip open and Jason trips. He’s on the ground again.

“Fuck!”

He doesn’t look back, knows the thing is behind him, kicks his ruined shoe off and dashes into a sprint once his feet are below him.

“Damn it.”

Jason sees the end of the platform. A dead end. A wall. The other way has the stairs. He almost slams into the wall, throwing his arms out to stop himself. They’re shaking. His legs are shaking too.

“Fuck!”

Turning around, Jason sees the thing had already covered half the distance. Quick drunken movements as it drags itself over the concrete. It’s taller than Jason by a good two feet. Jason doesn’t think. He jumps down onto the subway tracks, falling to his knees only for a moment as he rushes down the tunnel. In his haste, he almost forgets to avoid the far rail. If he brushed that electric charged rail it would be the end. He should have listened to Dad. That fucking job was a bad idea. Behind, a loud splat echoed followed by a loud sizzle. Jason sees the far rail spark. He’s so dead. Rumbles and a clanking sound echo from the rails. Jason stops running.

“Oh shit.”

The dark path before him begins to light up. Jason was so dead. In the distance he hears the announcement that the Blue Line West is approaching. He hears a hiss behind him as the train’s lights blind him. In less than a second, Jason is dragged to the ground as boney hands grab his arms just above his elbow. His face is crushed into the gravel painfully along with the rest of his body and the hiss is back in his ear. He wants to scream. It’s touching him. It’s trapping him. He can’t move. It hurts. He’s so dead. It hurts.

There’s a loud rush of wind overhead and Jason suddenly can’t breathe. Jason feels himself on the edge of passing out before the rush is gone and air comes back to his lungs. He can’t get enough air in. It’s still on top of him. Wheezing, he attempts to move his limbs but they’re weak and hardly move. It’s going to kill him.

The thing hisses in his ear before lifting up just enough to turn Jason over onto his back. It’s enough room to get a full breath of air. Focusing on calming his burning lungs, Jason doesn’t realize his eyes are open till his vision clears and he sees the thing’s mouth barely an inch from his own. Jason shuts his mouth and freezes.

“The Blue Line West train will be leaving shortly. Please step aside to let other passengers off before boarding. The Blue Line West Train will be leaving shortly. Please step aside to let other passengers off before boarding.”

Jason swallows, staring into the gray. It hisses but does nothing. Slowly, Jason moves his hands to the gravel and pushes himself out from under the thing along the ground. The thing allows it. Once a good three feet away, he stands. The thing stands. Jason slowly walks backwards. It follows, keeping the gap the same.

“Okay.”

Jason nods his head to himself.

“Okay. You stay right there.”

The thing closes the distance to two feet.

“Fuck.”

Jason pulls out his lighter and flicks the flame on. The thing tilts its mouth, rotating its form in an angle, seeming to focus on the flame. Brown liquid spills from its mouth, dripping down its form and creating a wet line on its filthy skin.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck. That’s so disgusting.”

The corners of its mouth move up in the mimic of a smile, but it’s just wrong. Jason throws the lighter at the thing, bolting for the end of the tunnel. He hears a loud hiss. Jason doesn’t turn to look. He reaches the platform edge and heaves himself up. The muscles in his arms tremble as he pulls his chest up over the dirty concrete. Jason feels a tug on his jacket.

“Fuck off!”

He kicks his right leg out and feels his foot hit something squishy then hard underneath. Bile rises to his throat, but the thing isn’t touching him now. Jason drags his legs up and stumbles into a run for the train. He almost trips at the closest door, but makes it in. The harsh orange seats and yellow lights make his eyes water.

“Please step away from the doors. The doors will be closing.”

Jason sees the thing is now on the platform through the glass of the subway car.

“Please step away from the doors. The doors will be closing.”

All entrances into the last car shut as the thing goes from the back-window to the side-window. Jason can see a blackened mark just below its teeth, already getting smaller. The train jerks into motion when the thing reaches the glass of the door. Jason, too focused on the thing, falls forward hitting his head on a seat.

“Fucking son of a – ”

He lays down on the floor on his back, not caring to get up. It smells like a cheap cleaner.

“What the fuck was that? Shit.”

Jason goes to wrap his arms around himself but aborts the motion just after he starts it. It feels wrong. He feels dirty. Sticking his hand into his right pants pocket, he pulls out a beat-up iPhone 5. A thin screen protector held the spider web of glass together. Two months ago, Jason had to stop himself from buying a new one as being able to take hot showers was a much higher priority. A shitty job for a quick cleanse and outdated appliances. Jason you’re a fucking idiot. An image of the thing pops up again in his memory.

“Fuck.”

Laying the phone on his chest, he pulls out his cigarette pack with one hand then goes to grab the lighter –

“Fuck this shit. Really.”

Putting the cigarettes back, he grabs his phone and unlocks it. He calls his Dad. As the phone rings, Jason groans as he pushes himself to sit up. The phone clicks.

“Jason?”

“Dad! The weirdest stuff happened just now I – Fuck. I don’t know what it was. I was so dead. I don’t – Dad. I need help.”

The other end of the line is silent for a moment.

“Dad – ”

“Jason are you off your medication again?”

“What?”

Jason pauses, moving to lean back against a seat.

“Jason. I thought we talked about this. If you’re going to live on your own you need to take care of yourself. Your mom is going to be devastated – ”

“What the fuck Dad? No! I’m on my meds. I took them earlier.”

“Then why are you calling me, at one in the morning no less, sounding like you had another psychotic break?”

Jason clinched his jaw. He shouldn’t have called Dad. Why did he do that?

“Dad. Please just listen, okay? I was waiting at the subway when this thing showed up. This fucking thing. It tried to kill me – ”

“Clearly it didn’t kill you.”

“Dad, you’re not listening! Something was on the platform with me. It chased me and I had to run onto the tracks to get away – ”

“You did what!? Jason – ”

“I had to! It was going to get me. Dad, it wasn’t human. Please. Just stop and listen. I don’t know what to do!”

“Jason, enough. I’m going to go wake your mother and we’ll be there soon to pick you up. We should never have agreed to let you live on your own.”

Jason brought the phone away from his ear, letting the arm go limp in his lap. Dad was right. He was fucking right and Jason was wrong as always. He couldn’t get a job that paid enough to live well anyway. Why did he even bother? Jason got off the linoleum floor and slid onto the orange seat. He brought the phone back to his ear.

“ – to your apartment by yourself. What’s the next station? We’ll come pick you up there.”

“I can make it to the apartment, Dad.”

“Are you sure?”

There’s a clattering of the phone being passed to someone else.

“Jason, honey.”

“Mom.”

“Jason, get off at the next stop. You’re going to hurt yourself. Please get off. For me?”

How is he supposed to say no to that? He feels awful enough as it is.

“Okay.”

“That’s great Jason! I’m so happy. You can do this honey!”

Another clatter as the phone changes hands once more. Jason wants to shrivel up and die.

“Jason, what’s the next stop – ”

“I’ll text you it. Okay Dad?”

“Alright – ”

Jason touches the hang-up button. The familiar clanking of the train on the rails feels suffocating. He pulls out the cigarette pack. If it had been a different circumstance, he might have let himself take a short nap as he’s been doing more and more after the long work shifts. Jason tilts his hand and watches the cigarettes slip out of the open top onto the floor. One hits his socked right foot. Twisting his leg, Jason sees the white bottom is filthy now. A brown residue stains the heel.

“Fuck.”

Leaning his head back against the glass, he watches the lights that pass by through the tunnel. He always took his meds. The timing might have been off at times, but he took them. That, he was fucking sure about. Jason crosses his arms then quickly puts them back at his side. He inhales, exhales. It didn’t matter. Even if that was the one thing in his life he has gotten the hang of, everything else is shit. He should have let the creepy thing kill him.