CHAPTER FOUR: Horror
1070 Words
Ethan Cole finally settled back into his seat and glanced toward the woman beside him.
To his surprise, she was glaring daggers at him—cheeks flushed red then pale, clearly furious.
A pang of guilt crept into Ethan’s chest. She was young, embarrassed, and things earlier had gotten… messy. He felt he owed her an explanation—if not to clear the misunderstanding, at least to make her feel less humiliated.
“Ahem—” Ethan cleared his throat, attempting a polite tone.
“Ma’am, I don’t know your name, but I know you’re angry. And I’m sorry. Really. Let me explain—I’m not a creep. I’m not a pervert. I’m a recent graduate from Cambridge State University. My name is Ethan Cole.”
He pulled out his old student ID and handed it to her. She glanced at it blankly, then looked back up at him—clearly waiting for more.
Ethan exhaled, defeated, and continued.
“What just happened… part of it was accidental, part inevitability. I came out early this morning to catch a flight. Don’t laugh—it’s my first time flying. The check-in process took forever. I got thirsty afterward but didn’t buy the water because it was insanely overpriced, and I figured the plane would serve drinks.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Then when I was heading to the gate, I wasn’t paying attention and bumped into you. Completely my fault. When you fell, I reacted on reflex and grabbed you without looking and—yeah—my hand landed somewhere it shouldn’t have. 100% unintentional. I apologized right away, and you slapped me, so I think we’re even.”
The woman’s glare softened—barely, but noticeably.
Ethan took a sip of the free coffee and kept going.
“On the plane I drank too much juice. A lot. Human biology took over, and I… just couldn’t hold it anymore. That whole situation wasn’t some filthy plan. Just bad luck on top of bad luck. I hope you can forgive me.”
He let out a breath in one go and waited nervously for her reaction.
Before she could respond—
A violent streak of lightning flashed beside the window, followed by a deafening crack of thunder.
The plane lurched sharply.
“Passengers, this is your captain. We’ve entered a thunderstorm zone. Please fasten your seatbelts and raise your tray tables.”
Flight attendants rushed down the aisle, gathering cups and trying to calm people.
The turbulence grew worse. Panic spread.
Even the woman next to him—once composed—started trembling.
“Hey, don’t panic,” Ethan said gently. “Airplanes are the safest mode of transportation in the world.”
She huffed. “What would you know? It’s your first flight.”
“True. But statistically, out of ten million commercial passengers, only one dies in a flight accident. Someone would have to fly every single day for over eight thousand years to likely be in a crash. So, mathematically, we’re good.”
He sounded confident, but inside he wasn’t sure at all.
The turbulence intensified. People burst into tears, screaming, cursing the airline, the pilots—anyone they could. A businessman even yelled at a flight attendant who was nearly in tears herself.
Ethan suddenly stood and roared over the chaos:
“EVERYONE SHUT UP!”
The cabin froze.
“If you don’t want to die, listen to the flight attendants. We’re thirty-thousand feet in the air—your money and your social status mean nothing right now. We either cooperate, or we all go down together.”
Silence.
Then obedience.
Passengers began doing safety procedures. Flight attendants regained control.
Zoe stared at Ethan—this man she had moments ago labeled a pervert—now radiating leadership, calm, strength. It made her dizzy.
“It’s okay,” Ethan told her, buckling down into crash position. “Hands behind your head.”
Zoe copied him just in time—
The plane dropped violently, and every light in the cabin shut off.
Screams erupted everywhere.
Zoe shrieked and threw herself onto Ethan instinctively—clinging to him, burying her face in his shoulder.
Her nails dug deep into his arms, sharp and merciless. Ethan clenched his teeth and endured it—blood trickling under her grip.
Finally—
The plane burst free from the storm.
The lights flickered back.
Zoe was still wrapped around him.
“Ma’am—Z-Zoe—if you press down any harder, someone is gonna die,” Ethan groaned from beneath her.
She snapped back to reality and recoiled instantly—face flaming red.
Ethan sat up, breathless. His right arm burned sharply.
Ten dark blue fingerprints—nail cuts bleeding—were imprinted along his skin.
“Oh my God…” Zoe gasped, horrified. “I—I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Ethan winced. “Now we’re really even.”
He offered his hand and smiled.
“Ethan Cole.”
“…I know,” she whispered. “You said it earlier. I’m Zoe Carter.”
Her hand slid into his—soft, warm, delicate.
Ethan’s heart surged.
“Nice to meet you… Zoe.”
Zoe looked at him—really looked at him.
He wasn’t bad-looking at all. Warm eyes. Soft smile. A presence that made her feel… safe.
“And don’t call me ‘Miss’,” she muttered shyly. “I hate that.”
“Then Zoe it is.”
She smiled faintly. “Ethan, are you flying to Riverton City for work?”
“No. I’m from Riverton. Born and raised.”
“But your accent… you sound like you’re from Washington.”
“Seven years studying there. I only went home once, money reasons. Every break I worked odd jobs to pay tuition. A round-trip flight alone costs months of living expenses. Honestly, my professor gifted me this ticket.”
Zoe blinked—surprised and softened.
She hesitated. “Ethan… now that you’ve graduated, where are you working? Riverton?”
“I got assigned to a career placement in Oregon State, not Riverton. I just came home first before reporting.”
Disappointment flashed across Zoe’s eyes.
Still, they talked the whole rest of the flight—effortlessly.
Near-death fear had erased every awkward boundary between them.
Before they knew it, the captain announced the landing.
The wheels hit the runway.
They had arrived in Riverton City.
- Writer
