Prologue: A Flight to Remember

Airports have always been places of a somewhat... hectic nature. Alright I'll admit, that's putting it lightly. However, has anyone questioned how there was somehow more energy at an airport at 5:00 AM, on a Wednesday, than at the craziest nightclub imaginable at 11:00 PM on a Friday night? I wasn't in the right mindset to solve such a conundrum; as I sat there, at an airport, at 5:00, on a Wednesday, too tired to even stand and a little bit hungover. After all, I had a flight to catch.

The semester was finally over; all exams I had somehow aced, all projects done... barely, and surprisingly I had come out of it unscathed! I do not regret choosing to study in America by any means, but you know what they say: There's no place like home. Even if it is a living firetrap. Originally I wasn't going to be flying solo but, a certain friend was being a lazy sod and didn't bother booking his own seat for the flight. Simply stating he'll "get the next one", AKA pseudocode for "can't be bothered getting up".

The plane wasn't expected to take off for another 45 minutes so I just spent my time in the lobby, taking in all the sights and sounds as packs of people were rampaging all over the place. I swear, if you got David Attenborough to narrate the airport life it wouldn't stand out on any nature channel. During my interval of people-spotting I noticed a very familiar face stick out above the crowd. Quite literally, the guy was 6'5" and also happened to have that "lazy sod" aesthetic to him. Yep, it was definitely him; Alex. He was definitely one of the good guys, we had been childhood friends and grown up together since we both stayed in the low income area of the town. He had been the one to convince me to come out to study in old 'merica, since his uncle stayed out here and could sort us out with accommodation. Safe to say, I owed the big guy one. Upon noticing him I almost immediately waved him over, curious to see if he somehow managed to get a seat. He noticed me with ease and swiftly waded through the flock of people heading towards the small bench in which I was seated. I was fairly surprised to see him, but glad nonetheless.

"Al! How you doing man? You managed to get a seat booked?" I asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah, my uncle managed to get a hold of one after somebody withdrew from the fight." He replied with a grin.

"Nice one mate, why didn't you let me know?"

"You know me mate, always full of surprises." Alex stated while chuckling.

"Good to see you could make it but ah, where's your luggage?" I asked.

"Already sorted, got it all planned out." Alex countered.

"Oh alright then, we best head to the terminal now to avoid the traffic."

There was no reply. In fact, there wasn't a lot of sound coming from the guy in general. Strange. He never was this quiet, usually you'd hear him go on and on about the most minute things imaginable. Particularly the night before when he went on a rant about the ethics of online piracy, although that may or may not have been due to the amount of Jägerbombs consumed that night. God bless whoever invented fake IDs! The trek to the terminal was particularly abnormal as Alex barely spoke a word the whole way there, giving only "Yes/No" answers in response to my attempts at conversation. I came to the conclusion that he's probably just as tired, if not more so than me. We eventually made it to the terminal and before we knew it we were on board, my guess was that they just wanted to get this plane off as soon as possible, can't say I blame them, I'm dying for some sleep. Alex was seated several rows behind me, whilst I had been seated in my specifically chosen seat that was NOT next to a window. Why, You may be asking? Let's just say I'm not a fan of the takeoff process, or landing, or heights in general. No further comments please. I was seated next to a middle-aged gentleman, who seemingly appeared to be in his late 40s to early 50s. 'Already asleep eh?' I though to myself, 'lucky'. I find it physically impossible to sleep during takeoff, and I deeply envy those who can. It's just this deep, instinctive thing that doesn't fly with me. I HAVE to know that the takeoff was a success before I drift off. The time had finally come, every passenger was seated and the plane had begun to move forward. This was just the build up to the nausea that comes with the plane lifting off the ground. It was mainly the sudden shift from being grounded to airborne that got to me, but alas it won't get to me this time.

I was wrong. I had to shut my eyes once the plane took off just to combat the urge to pass out. Pathetic I know, stop laughing. After the horror that was the takeoff it was all just smooth sailing from there, or rather smooth flying. As I instantly drifted off upon reaching the majesty that is horizontal flying. I came to around 3 hours after take off, surprised to see that it was still dark outside despite being nearly 9:00 AM. Many thoughts entered my mind about what exactly I'm going to do when I get home; reunite with the friends that stayed, revisit all of the old nostalgic locations, enjoy some of the country's native foods (which mainly consisted of cheap takeaways) and hey, I could even legally drink back at home! One thought that definitely crossed my mind was the thought of going back to my home, my actual home. I had rather mixed feelings about that, considering some of the unpleasant memories of that place, but I digress.

The passenger seated next to me struck up a rather pleasant conversation, he mentioned that he was visiting his daughter who had moved to Edinburgh several years ago, and that she had gotten married and recently had kids. It had gotten me thinking about my future, would I choose to come back home after getting my degree? Would I start my own family? I brushed off these thoughts, I was only 19 I didn't need to worry about things like that, not yet anyway. Our conversation got cut short when an Air Stewardess decided to intervene.

"Uhm, Mr Logan ?"

"Uh, yes?" I lightheartedly responded.

"A Mr Miller has requested your assistance and wishes to speak to you." She stated coldly.

'Alex? What's he done now?' I thought to myself.

"Oh okay, is he still at his seat?"

"No, you'll find him in the storage room at the back." She once again, coldly stated.

'What? What's he doing back there? And why is she allowing him to be there? I thought.

"Alright, thank you?" I said, with a confused look on my face.

She didn't even respond, nor even acknowledge my response. She simply walked onward towards the next cabin. The passenger next to me, not listening to the talk with the Stewardess looked towards me as I stood up. Upon noticing this, I just gave him a quick reassuring nod. But seriously though, what is going on with this guy? Why had been acting up all of a sudden? I tried to pay no mind to it as I walked towards the end of the plane, at the very end of the cabin. Surprisingly there weren't even any locks or security precautions of any kind present, just a large, heavy door that could be easily accessed by anybody. Once again, I put my thoughts aside and entered the room. The place was barren, the entire room was almost empty as well as cloaked in darkness. It also felt noticeably cooler in here than in the cabin, the fact that there was a skinny guy six inches taller than me standing in the center of the room facing away from me didn't help. He just stood there, completely motionless. I felt it was time for me to speak up.

"Al? What's the matter mate? You can't be having withdrawal symptoms already, it's only been like 7 hours since your last drink." I jokingly said with a small chuckle, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him.

"Listen mate, if you're having problems, I understand. just know that you can talk to me. Alright?"

No response.

With this I took a few steps forward towards him.

"You've been there for me and all mate..."

No response.

'Enough of this.'

"Alex, look at me." I said as I extended my arm to turn him around via his shoulder.

"You've got to stop b..." I slurred before taking a look at his face.

No response.

"What... the... fuck..?" I whispered to myself, taking in the sight before me.

His face. There was something not human there, this was not Alex. This thing's face had resembled a bull-like creature, but what set it apart were the eyes. This creature's eyes were large and purple, looking vaguely reptilian. Upon slowly taking several steps back, the creature began to turn even less human. It's fingers sharpened into claws, the seemingly human skin was replaced by a coat of black fur that stretched over it's entire body. The thing even grew a whole other set of legs behind behind its formerly "human" ones. All I could do was stand in complete silence at the sight of such a thing. Too shocked to move, scream or make any noise whatsoever. I broke out this trance however, and my fight or flight responses were at critical levels.

Knowing I had no chance of fighting this thing, I tuned and ran for the door as if my life depended on it. Oh wait, it actually did. I wasn't fast enough however, the beast took a swipe at me with it's right claw whilst letting out a predatory growl. Resulting of course in a giant gash along my left arm mid-turn, tearing my bomber jacket and black t-shirt underneath in the process. This hurt, a lot. Causing a short yell from me, whilst falling to the ground in front of the door, clutching my sliced arm. I struggled with my back against the door, seated on the floor facing towards the beast in front of me, swiftly withdrawing my hand from my wound just to see my now free hand coated with blood. The beast, now sprouting a pair of curved horns covered with engravings extruding from either side of its forehead, seemingly preparing to charge. Me however, not wanting to be impaled on this things horns, took no chances. I subconsciously burst though the door and slammed it behind me, barricading it from below by sitting against it. I barely noticed that only several people were standing to investigate the freak occurrence, before I could even begin to say something, a familiar set of horns pierced through the door mere inches above the top of my head, inciting an audible gasp of shock from me as well as the other passengers. At this point, I felt it was appropriate to explain this situation in a calm and civilized manner.

"Go! Go! Go! There's a fucking Minotaur behind me!" I yelled, in a vain attempt to clear the cabin.

Of course it couldn't be that easy to clear them out, all I got was stares of people trying to comprehend what they saw. That didn't last long though, as I was sent flying several feet across the center of the cabin along with the supposedly heavy door, which barely missed a group of passengers on the upper left corner of the cabin. It was only after the emergence of the beast from the shadows that people eventually took the hint, the cabin then erupt with screams as people desperately clamored over each other to escape to the next cabin. Not me though, I was still slightly dazed from being thrown across the cabin. I felt completely fazed out as people fled, as I sat there on the ground facing towards the beast as it slowly approached me. Too many thoughts occupying my mind, distracting me from taking any kind of defensive action.

'Why is this happening?'
'Why does that thing specifically target me?'
'How did it know who I was, and Alex for that matter?'

These thoughts were swiftly put to rest however, as I found myself being held up by the neck, now eye level with the monster. The cabin was nearly completely empty, as the majority of passengers had fled for their lives. The few who remained didn't even look back at me, as they too fled the scene. Can't say I blame them. Now if it wasn't obvious enough, this thing was pretty strong. No, very fucking strong. Now me, I considered myself a pretty strong guy. I was no stranger to the gym every now and then, but I wasn't anything like a Schwarzenegger or a Ferrigno. The beasts' hand completely wrapped around my neck, slowly strangling me in the process. My attempts of battery at its arm were futile, with blood still leaking from my wound and with the face out of reach, so too were my attempts at kicks to push myself away from its grasp. Even with the adrenaline rushing through me, I was helpless. The creature then brought up its free hand/claw thing, whilst muttering an incomprehensible language under its breath. The next thing I felt was the almost suffocating force of the creature's hand enveloping my face. But after that, was nothing. Well not really, the very last things I remember were a split second flash of light, the sound of sheets of metal ripping apart along with the overwhelming sound of rushing wind of the Atlantic. That was all I could process before blacking out.

Something about this told me that it would probably be a while before I see home again.

Author's Note

How's it going guys?

If you've reached the end of the prologue, I would really appreciate it if you could check out the first chapter of the story. All comments and criticism are welcome, hope you liked. 👌