Obscene Animals: A Subway Tale

The Stench of the Subway

No matter how often they claim to clean the New York Subway, it reeks of garbage. Not just any garbage, but something far worse. It smells like people. They all carry a horrible odor.

As I step into the subway car, I notice it is relatively empty. It’s the first stop, so not many people board. Plenty of seats are available, yet no one chooses to sit near me. Just because I am homeless and lack easy access to a shower, they think they are better than me.

But they are not. With all the scented soaps and shampoos they use, they fail to recognize the disgust emanating from their bodies. My filthy clothes and body could be cleaned, but the odor from their pores is far worse. They remain oblivious to it.

A False Sense of Superiority

I am not the gross one here; they are. The smell that comes from their skin can never be washed away. They live in their little bubbles, believing they are worthy. They think they deserve a roof over their heads and food in their bellies simply because they shower more. They cannot wash away the stench of privilege.

How dare they consider themselves better than me? They are undeserving of all they have. In a blink, they could lose everything and become just like me. One bad day is all it takes. One lousy day is closer than they can imagine.

The Crowded Train

With each stop, more people board the train than exit. The sickening herd moves in, tightly packed while avoiding me. They prefer to stick together rather than take an empty seat next to me. I have my own magical bubble, keeping these foul-smelling jerks at bay.

For years, these individuals have boarded the same train daily, following the same routine. They cram into the crowded car like sardines, heading to work. They are so important that they cannot wait for a less crowded train. They can’t be late to their prisons for the next eight hours, so they push, push, push.

A Desire for Chaos

It doesn’t matter to me. I want the crowd; I want them all. Bring me as many of these reeking privileged animals as possible. Please, continue to push onto the train. Leave enough space around me so I can make my move. Increase your numbers in this small space and decrease the chance of escape.

Soon, their precious blood will be on my hands. Their screams of terror will echo around me. To avoid my punishment, they will push each other against the wall, ensuring that even those furthest from me suffer injuries. The ones closer to me will cry out for mercy, and I will show them none.

A Moment of Reckoning

For years, I have awaited this moment. A moment to confront these obscene animals who think their lives are worth more than mine. No, they are not. Soon, they will realize this. Soon, they will have no choice but to see me instead of pretending I don’t exist.

I have taken this train for so many years that you would think I would have memorized many of the faces on this train of death. Yet, I don’t. I am sure they all recognize me, though. The dirty, stinky bum on the train would be the topic of their conversations. They would refer to me as the soiled homeless man taking up three seats—the nameless dirt bag.

A City-Wide Infamy

Today will be the day they never forget me. Not only will those lucky enough to survive my rampage remember me, but I will also be talked about all over this city. My face will appear on television and in the papers. Will it be my current face or one from a time long ago? A time when I smelled like these worthless beings of privilege.

I am unsure if I will be around to see it, but that doesn’t matter. The train leaves the station and heads underground, traveling from Queens into Manhattan. There is ample time between stops to inflict significant damage. I could pull the emergency brake cord to end it all, but I want to ensure I get most of them. I want to keep some alive to tell the story I am about to unleash.

The Final Act

I pull out my knives after the doors close. It is time to start the slaughter.

The chaos I envision will not only be a personal victory but a statement. A statement against the obliviousness of those who think they are better than others. This is my moment, and I will seize it.

As the train rumbles through the dark tunnels, I prepare myself. The moment of reckoning is at hand. They will remember me, and they will remember this day.

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