Jide’s flight had been uneventful so far, and he was relieved. He hated flying, as his seatmate kept reminding him.

“Awww, want some water?” “Want a barf bag?”

He would glare at her and she would giggle.

“Bimpe, if I wasn’t planning to marry you, I would strangle you right now.” he kept warning her.

Her laugh was soothing and distracted him from his fear. He watched her, smiling. In two months, they would get married. He couldn’t wait. Yeah, life was looking pretty good.

He was staring out the window at the woolly clouds when he heard Bimpe say it for the first time. He turned, confused.

“Bimpe, you said..?”

“Mayday.” She said again.

Then, he noticed how vacant her gaze was. She was gripping the arm-rests and her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mayday. Mayday.”

“Bimpe, what on earth..?”

Without another word, Bimpe slid out of her seat and made a beeline for the emergency exit door. Jide watched in shock as two of the flight attendants managed to catch her on time and stop her from wrenching the door open. He hurried over and watched helplessly as they restrained her while she struggled, mumbling.


He couldn’t recognize this crazy girl, spitting and mumbling. His heart racedu as he tried to explain to the flight crew that his fiancé was not high on drugs or drunk.

Then he heard it from the back row.


This time it was a tall man in a blazer, sitting up straight and staring blankly. Then the man jumped up, grabbed the nearest fire extinguisher and began to pummel the window closest to him.


The flight crew rushed to stop the man, and then all hell broke loose. People all over the plane started shouting mayday, then violently started trying to escape the plane.

Jide backed towards the cockpit, scared out of his wits. He ducked inside the flight deck and yelled at the pilots. “Something’s wrong!” he yelled “People are going crazy…”

The plane yawed downwards, tilting as one of the pilots suddenly pushed down on two pedals.

Jide began to scream, then he saw the man’s mouth moving.



About feminemdapest

I love words and how beautifully they can be woven. I have a wicked sense of humor and a mind like a sponge, so little gets past me. As a result, I have a garbage heap of a head. Did I mention I love words?
This entry was posted in Fiction, MACABRE, Speculative. Bookmark the permalink.

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