The Crimson Death

         The plane lurched forward, making Franklin rock in his seat. His Scotch had spilled a little on his dark blue jeans. He wiped it away nervously. Franklin Morrison, fourty-two, was on his way to a huge business deal in Los Angeles. He had been flying since he was a child, flew in his grandfather’s small biplane at three years old. Still, he never could get over the turbulence factor.

         A pretty flight attendant pushed a cart down the slim aisle. Her violet eyes caught sight of Franklin. She smiled.

         “Would you like a refill sir?”

         Hers was a voice so velvety that it could almost melt butter. Franklin cringed. He had just divorced a woman who had talked the same way. Smooth on the inside, but rougher than sandpaper on the outside. Thank God his daughter was more like him.

         His wife, Donna, and he had been married for 15 years. They had met through his brother Theodore. It was one of those blind dates everyone tried desperately to avoid, but it seemed to work out. Donna was a famous designer who worked with all the most well known celebrities. She did many of their wedding dresses, and was even featured on the cover of 'People Magazine' more than once. Franklin was the president of his own architectural firm that he started from the ground up. They designed such buildings in the likeness of the Empire State Building, The Sears Tower, and the Chrysler Building. They hit it off right away, and 1 year later they were married. Then, 2 years later, their daughter Abigail was born.

         From the day she was born there were problems. She was a preemie. Only weighed 2lbs 2ozs. As if that wasn’t enough, she also was born with a hole in her heart. Abby only had about a 35% chance of survival. They both stayed at the hospital every day and night, praying for a miracle.

         After numerous drugs and treatments, Abby began to gain a little weight and grow. The doctor said that she would need surgery for the hole in her heart, then possibly a pacemaker later in life.

         When Abby was about 5 or so, she did finally get a pacemaker, but by this time, Franklin and Donna were already at the end of their rope. With Donna always away designing this dress or that dress, and Franklin always trying to close a major deal, things had sort of unraveled.

         Then when Abby was 10, they finally could not hold on any longer. The fights were getting louder, Donna was drinking more often, and Franklin made more excuses to go on business trips even when there weren’t any. They got divorced, and hadn’t spoken to each other since. Just an occasional birthday card with Abby’s picture in it signed only by Abby.

         “Um, yes, please.”

         The plane leaped forward again. A baby began to holler somewhere behind him. The young mother tried shushing it, but without much success. The flight attendant, Maggie, according to her name tag, took the glass from Franklin’s outstretched hand. She nodded pleasantly at him, then filled it slowly, purposely.

         As she handed it back to him, her demeanor changed. Her hand gripped the glass with such an intensity, Franklin was sure it would break. He reached for the half full glass, but Maggie pulled back. The dark liquid, sloshed, threatened to spill once more. She spoke, but now all softness was gone. In its place was a foulness, and eeriness he had heard only in those horror movies his daughter would drag him to.

         “You are in danger.” Intense anger now creased her beautiful face. Her jaw was torquey, and teeth gritted. “Death is imminent, for all of you!”

         The hand that was holding the glass, let go. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, yet all at the same time.

         The glass “floated” to the carpeted walkway, the Scotch never spilled until it hit the floor. The sound of the glass shattering at her feet, stirred Maggie from her “trance.” She blinked a few times, then rushed off to the flight attendants’ station. Franklin stared after her, just as shocked as she was, and probably just as confused.


         Once the mess was cleaned up, things were back to normal. Yet Franklin felt very uneasy. Even as a child when he saw a black cat he would avoid it. So when he was told he was in danger, no matter the source, he did not take it lightly. He slowly opened the window shade. The sight he saw made him wish he had gone to church more often.

         A thick black cloud covered the plane, at least this side of it. Franklin could not even see the port side wing. As if reading his mind, the Captain came over the loud speaker.

         “It seems that we are having a severe weather problem here.” His voice was shaky, which did nothing to reassure Franklin’s confidence.

         “There is almost zero visibility. We are not sure what we are looking at just yet, but when we do, we will let you know. Thank you, and please remain seated.”

         The Captain clicked off. Suddenly, about half the passengers started screaming. The sound of shades being drawn were heard throughout. This caused even more screams. Franklin saw Maggie shaking in her seat, her eyes dead.

         The seatbelt sign dinged on, but Franklin unhooked himself anyway. He was feeling sick, and needed to use the bathroom. As he stood, the plane began to slowly rock back and forth. Franklin gripped onto a few seats for support. Another flight attendant, Alicia, stepped up to him.

         “I am sorry sir, but you must return to your seat.” She placed a manicured hand on his well-defined chest. As the plane continued to sway, her hand rubbed his pecks.

         Franklin smiled to himself. “Unless you want me to puke all over your attractive cranberry carpet, I suggest you let me go to the bathroom.”

         Alicia removed her hand. “You do know there are bags for that at your seat, right sir?” She pointed matter-of-factly.

         Franklin nodded. “Yes, but why add to the hysteria of the others?” Alicia sighed heavily, then moved from his path.

         Franklin opened the door, slid the “Not Occupied” to “Occupied,” then promptly threw up. He looked up into the small mirror over the sink. His eyes were full of a fear that he did not completely feel yet.

         A sudden thought went through his mind. “What if we crash? Who will tell my daughter?” Franklin splashed more water on his terror filled face, then leaned against the small sink.

         The bathroom, if you could call it that, only had room enough for a toilet and a sink. If you turned around too fast, you would hit your head on the small metal light that was just to the left of the door. The lighting was enough, but not very comforting. It gave off an eerie glow, making the small room look even smaller.

         Franklin sat on the toilet. He surveyed his surroundings. This was not how he wanted to die, locked in a green bathroom, blue water as his only companion. He reached into his back pocket, a tricky move from where he was sitting, and pulled out his wallet. Inside held about $25 dollars, two tens and the rest in ones. He had two credit cards, both Visa cards. Franklin flipped past those, and saw a sight that nearly took his breath away. It was a picture of his 12-year-old daughter at her 6th grade graduation.

         Abby was wearing a teal dress that her mother, Donna, had made for her. Abby was smiling, and it practically lit up the auditorium. Her brown hair was in tight curls that fell all around her face. Franklin wished she were here now, just so he could tell her how sorry he was for how everything had turned out.

         A loud banging noise snapped him back to reality. “Sir, the Captain wants everyone back in their seats, immediately!” It was Maggie.

         Apparently she had woken up enough to yell at him. He stole one last glance at his daughter’s picture, then stood. Before he could open the door, the plane dove forward, sending Franklin face first into the tiled floor.

         He could hear the passengers screaming and crying. Many were wondering aloud, what the hell was going on. Franklin was thinking the same thing. He stood slowly, then opened the door. The aisle was in utter chaos. Bags from the overhead compartments had been flung here and fro. One man had been hit with his own lap top, and blood was flowing from the wound. He was unconscious.

         Franklin crawled from the bathroom, pushing bags and miscellany out of his way. The plane straightened itself out, but only for a moment. It then began to spin wildly. Franklin flew up into the air, hitting the plane’s ceiling. His back cracked audibly. He was sure he had broken it. Alicia screamed loudly as Franklin fell to the floor, blood flowing from his nose.

         Then everything was still, and quiet. Franklin lay there, not sure what to expect. He tried moving, and to his surprise, he could. He worked his way to his seat, and strapped himself in. The window shade beside his seat was still up, and now the image there was worse than he could have imagined.

         The smoke had cleared just enough to reveal what was causing it. Right below them, DIRECTLY below them, was a large, active, volcano. Around it was what used to be Yosemite National Park. Nothing was left. Trees looked like burnt matches after being lit for too long, the cabins were merely piles of ash. Franklin reached to close the shade, when he heard, and felt a rumble below him. He leaned as close as he could to the window, and screamed.

         The volcano was shaking violently. Inside, the lava was rising slowly and steadily. Franklin knew what was going to happen, and wished that he had stayed home. The sound was deafening. All the people on the port side were quiet, as they were staring just as he was.

         As the lava reached the mouth of the volcano, it stopped. Franklin breathed heavily. He continued to watch as the lava bubbled angrily. Then, without warning, the volcano erupted, spewing molten lava up into the air, hitting the plane with great force.

         The plane shot up, then back down. People screamed. Some began to unbuckle themselves and tried rushing to the back of the plane, hoping they could run from it. Then the heat began to rise. 75, 85, 100, then it felt like it was 1000 degrees inside the metal container.

         Franklin never moved. He knew that he could not run or hide from something like this. As he sat there, the aisle began to turn a dark red color. The lava was eating its way through the bottom of the plane. This was making the plane lose altitude greatly. Then, out of nowhere, Franklin heard a scream from the front of the plane. Then the plane dropped significantly, and kept dropping.

         Franklin watched as the front of the plane, the bottom, and the starboard side was slowly eaten away. The last thing he thought of as the lava began to creep up to his feet, was his beautiful daughter, and how much he would miss her.