"The Toll" part 1

Henry’s bewildered eyes reflected back at him from the gleaming blade of the knife lying at his feet. Standing before him was a dark, mysterious figure. All features of this being was shrouded by a large black cloak. Only a long bony finger emerged from the void of the thick worn sleeve, as it pointed to the three, kneeling potential victims off to its left. The victims were a young boy, a small little girl, and a woman. Their hands were bound behind their backs and their innocent eyes were covered by a blindfold. They were also gagged so they could not speak. Henry could not make out their faces because their backs were to him.

His eyes moved from the blade, to the potential sacrifices, and then to the figure who held the role of toll collector for passing down that mysterious road.

That road. A short cut. A very important shortcut for Henry. He was on his way home from a “business” trip, or so he told his wife. The truth was he was on his way home from a wild weekend with his mistress, and he was running late. His wife of fifteen years had already grown suspicious of his infidelities and had threatened to see a divorce lawyer. Coming home late from this trip could be the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back. Henry had stopped at a diner a few miles back and they had told him about this road, but they had also warned him about toll. Henry figured they meant a toll booth he would have to drop some coin into, but what confronted him was far stranger, and far more terrifying. At first, he thought that it all might be a Halloween joke, after all the pranksters holiday was only a week away. However, after this ghoulish standoff with the cloaked figure, Henry knew he was faced with a new challenge. One of moral implications. He looked back down at the knife and then up again at the pointing toll-taker.

“What do you want to do?” Henry asked, struggling to get the words out, “kill one of them?”

The figure said nothing. It just stood like an ominous shadow, pointing at the cost of passage.

“Is this some kind of sick fucking joke?!” Henry yelled angrily.

Again, his query was met with only silence. The anger started to swell within him. Time was running out. He had to get home. The cold fall air blew against his perspiring face. It sent chills down his body.

“I don’t have time for jokes!” Henry continued to shout.

Then Henry looked around him. There was nothing surrounding them but fields. No houses. No buildings. No other life. There weren’t even any crickets that would be able to see his crime. He looked back down at the knife. Thoughts were racing through his mind. How could he do this? How could he take a life? And which one would he choose? Would this be a mercy killing for one of them? Were these children the hostage woman’s? He looked back up at the figure with moist, pleading eyes.

“Please” he said softly, “don’t make me do this.”

But the stoic figure just pointed. No emotion, hell, he couldn’t even see his face. He could have been smiling with delight watching this man fall apart in front of him. A part of his mind went back to the thought of his wife. Was this his penalty for being unfaithful? Did he somehow have to pay for what he had done? He reached down slowly with a trembling hand and picked up the bone handled knife. He once again looked at his reflection in the silver blade. He saw the tears slowly run down his cheek. Again, the cold wind caught the wet stream sending bolts of icy coldness through his body. He held the knife out in front of him and walked slowly towards the three hostages. He was glad he could not see their faces. He would never be able to do the deed if he could. He walked up behind the woman and positioned the knife out in front of her, holding it horizontally under her chin.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “God forgive me.” With a swift motion, he pulled the knife back towards his body. The sharp blade easily slicing through soft, tender flesh. The motion was so quick that no blood got on his sleeve or hand. He opened his eyes to the sound of gurgling as the bound woman fell face down to the ground. Blood began to flow from under her head as her body began to twitch. Henry looked down at the knife in horror. Then he dropped it on the ground and backed away slowly.

As the woman lay dying he looked over at the figure. It pulled its arm back into its shadowy form and stepped aside, clearing the path for Henry to be on his way.

The toll had been paid.

The horrified man ran back to his car. He quickly got in and sped down the road. The shadowy figure watched him as he passed and his headlights quickly glanced over him. It the brief moment Henry caught a glimpse of the face. The face of death. Henry sped down the road. His hands were trembling. He could still see the blood in his head. He could still hear the desperate gurgling, as the dying woman strained for her last breath. Guilt shot through him like a lightning bolt. Gone was the fear of a jealous and outraged wife. In its place, a subconscious feeling of the crime he had just committed. What if it was just a Halloween prank and he just took it too far? Right now, that figure could be taking off his mask and looking down at the woman Henry had just killed. He could be calling the police. He was going to be wanted for murder. Bright lights! Henry’s vision was blinded by the bright lights of an oncoming truck. He jerked the wheel to avoid a collision, but lost control of the car. It slid violently off the road and smashed into a nearby tree.

The toll had been paid.

To be continued in Part 2.....