Ep.1: The Embankment Incident (No.1)

607 79 123
                                    

Episode 1: The Embankment Incident (No.1)

Written by Danny Richards

Produced by Corey Smith, Matthew Anderson, Luca Limoncelli and Joanna Holland

Edited by Corey Smith, Matthew Anderson and Luca Limoncelli

Created and developed by Danny Richards


Embankment Tube Station, London

The drumming of Marilyn Clinton's footsteps matched her accelerated heartbeat. She fumbled in her bag, attempting to find her travel pass to get through the station gate. Time was quickly running out. God, she felt awful. She had been up all night, violently vomiting into her bathroom toilet. Never had she been so sick in her life. Too many drinks with the ladies would do that to you.

Marilyn had never been late to work in her two years at Quantum Technologies, and today was not going to be her first. She took the left-hand side of the escalator, rushing down past those who would rather stand and wait. She could feel the other commuters accidentally brush against the bite marks on her forearm, but she had to keep moving through the pain.   

Crazy tramp. Fair enough if you're asking for change, Marilyn thought,  but biting someone when they refused was beyond unacceptable — even for London's standards.

The feeling of last night's sickness was returning — worse this time. Even if she did make it onto the train, she wasn't sure how long she could last without covering everyone around her in last night's vodka martinis. 

Marilyn could hear the familiar beeping of the train doors rapidly shutting as she rushed around the final corner. The pain in her arm was excruciating as she made the final sprint to the tube. 

"Please..." she called out between heavy breaths, "please hold the doors."

All of the passengers ignored Marilyn's plea — all but one. Sticking his morning paper between the doors to stop them from closing, one portly gentleman had decided to do his good deed for the day. Stumbling into the confining carriage, her desire to be sick was overwhelming as the train began its journey to Queens Park.

Her skin was pallid now, a stark contrast to the tanned woman that had gone out last night. She collapsed to her knees, weak. Her head began to spin as she struggled to focus on her surroundings. Panicked passengers observed, not wishing to intervene with the crazy woman. Marilyn looked around the carriage for salvation while the other passengers tried to avoid eye contact. She caught the eye of one girl, no more than eight or nine years old with beautiful sandy blonde hair that outshone even Marilyn's own raven locks. The girl looked so innocent in her seat, unaware of what was truly happening to the woman she saw in front of her. A man, presumably her father, tugged on her scarlet jacket, trying to divert her attention from the disorder which was Marilyn.

Tears streamed down Marilyn's face as another bout of vomiting began — blood this time. The gentleman who had held the door open for her tried to comfort her. He stroked her back, feeling her burning skin through her jacket.

Marilyn felt frail. She discharged one final bout of her insides onto the tube floor, before slowly sinking down into the bloody pool. The other passengers stood, petrified. Within just a few minutes, their ordinary train journey had turned into a death scene, like something out of a horror film. Some began to weep whilst others began to gag from the paralysing smell.

A passenger pulled off his jacket and placed it over her, trying to cover her out of respect. The little girl in scarlet raised her head and whispered to her father,

"Daddy, what happened to that lady?" The father tried to conjure up some words, but couldn't find any to describe the monstrosity he had just witnessed. He decided it would be best just to hold her close.

Still a few minutes away from its next stop, the train remained silent — silent apart from a light, almost inaudible groaning from beneath the coat. At first, no one noticed it, but as the groan grew passengers began to turn. 

The gentleman who had comforted Marilyn slowly approached the corpse on the train floor. He wasn't certain, but he thought he'd seen the body twitch. He knelt in front of Marilyn's body and nervously reached forward, slowly pulling back the coat that lay over her head.

Marilyn flew forward, driving her teeth into the man's throat before quickly leaping off onto another victim. Blood-curdling cries filled the train as it continued its journey deeper into the tunnel. 

Continued in Part 2

Gods and MonstersWhere stories live. Discover now