I Think Something on the Subway Is Feeding on People Like Me

I first saw her on an ordinary Tuesday morning.

I was zoning out, half-asleep on my usual subway commute. I always got on the same train, right at the front of the third car. For some reason, there were usually fewer people there. Everything about my mornings was the same, coffee, some quick breakfast, then off to work. And as an insurance claims adjuster, my job wasn’t exactly exciting.

But that morning, the moment I saw her, I knew something felt different.

Her skin was pale, almost glowing silver beneath her long, jet-black hair. Her bright blue eyes were fixed on the darkness outside, staring into the empty tunnel as the train rushed forward. She was… mesmerizing. There’s no other word for it.

As uncomfortable as it was, I couldn’t look away.

And somehow, she noticed.

Slowly, without moving her delicate face, she shifted her gaze, those piercing blue eyes landing directly on me. The moment our eyes met, I snapped my head away like a startled kid.

Her eyes almost seemed to shine. Her pale face practically glowed, and I could swear there was the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. I turned my head in the opposite direction, trying way too obviously to look anywhere else.

But she didn’t stop looking at me.

If anything, it felt like she turned even more toward me.

I felt embarrassed… and strangely proud at the same time. A woman like her, looking at me that openly, noticing me in a crowd like this. It was… intoxicating. I almost forgot where I was, just basking in the warmth of that ocean-blue gaze.

When I glanced back at her, she smiled, but then shyly looked away, pretending she hadn’t been staring at me at all. Her pale face was framed by red lipstick, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. I don’t think I’ve ever studied someone the way I studied her.

Who was she? Where was she going?

The train began to slow, and I snapped out of it, this was my stop. But as I stood up, I saw her rise from her seat too, letting someone pass before stepping off the train.

I felt a sudden rush of urgency. I needed to see her again, just once more. That narrow, perfect face. Those deep, living blue eyes.

I pushed my way through the doors and into the crowd, searching for that black hair. It felt like the world slowed down for a split second.

She was already on the escalator, moving upward.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with her small, delicate hand. And just for a brief moment, just one she looked back.

At me.

I swear to God, out of all those rushing, gray, everyday people… she saw me again.

Then she disappeared into the crowd above.

I know this sounds stupid, but the rest of my day felt off after that.

It was just a moment, barely anything, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My mind kept drifting back to her. That radiant look in her eyes, her features… the way she vanished.

I felt this strange kind of sadness. Like I was already afraid I’d never see her again.

But why did it matter? Why couldn’t I let it go?

The rest of the day dragged by like always, papers, reports, claim forms. Just routine. Then I went home.

Part of me hoped I’d see her again on the way back.

But she wasn’t there.

Everything felt… duller on the way home. The same people, the same empty faces I saw every day. It was like something was missing from all of them.

Something bright. Something… blue.

The rest of my evening went the same as always. Video games, TV, something to eat, then bed.

It’s a boring life. No question about that.

But something was different.

Something was there, in the back of my mind… making me look forward to the next morning.

And I didn’t even understand why.

I left late that morning.

I was rushing, thinking I’d miss my usual train. I was practically running down the stairs to the platform.

Or maybe… I wasn’t really rushing because of the train.

I barely made it onto the platform when, through the crowd, I caught a glimpse of those familiar blue eyes.

For a second, it felt… relieving.

But what was she doing here? I’d never seen her at this station before. How was she here now? Had I just never noticed?

The train pulled in, and she stepped inside with the flow of people. I froze for a second, just staring, then snapped out of it and pushed my way in after her.

There were way more people than usual. I couldn’t even get to my usual spot.

But the moment I saw her, standing by the next set of doors, I suddenly realized what had been bothering me about the crowd.

And weirdly… I felt better. Because just like me, she looked at me too.

Our eyes met for a second. Her ocean-blue gaze felt like it was searching for mine. The air around me felt warmer, and for a moment, I wasn’t even on that crowded train anymore.

It felt like we were somewhere else. Somewhere that belonged only to the two of us.

It lasted maybe a second. But it stuck with me.

That look, that faint smile, that soft, almost unreal face, it was enough for that entire morning.

I don’t even know why, but I smiled at her. She seemed to get a little shy, glancing away.

Shit… what if she wasn’t even smiling at me?

The thought hit me instantly. Great. I’m making a fool of myself on the subway. What kind of world would this be where someone like her would be into me? Or even single at all?

I could feel sweat forming on my back, like this was somehow life-or-death important, whether some random girl on the train had a boyfriend or not.

I looked away, feeling stupid.

What was I even thinking? That I’d find love on a subway train?

But as I stared blankly ahead, I caught something in the reflection of the dark window.

She was looking at me again. I turned back, and for a few seconds, we held eye contact.

It was simple. But it felt… incredible.

This woman… she actually sees me.

The train jerked to a stop. People grabbed onto whatever they could. Then the doors slid open with a loud click.

A wave of commuters poured out of the car.

This wasn’t my stop, so I stepped aside, letting everyone off. Once things settled down, I quickly moved into my usual spot.

But she was gone.

I craned my neck, shifting around in my seat, almost falling out of it trying to find her, but she wasn’t there.The doors slammed shut.

I felt that sinking realization, she wasn’t on the train anymore.

But then I looked out onto the platform.

And I saw that black hair.

She was standing there, scanning the crowd like a startled deer. Looking for someone?

Probably waiting for her boyfriend.

Why else would she get off at a different stop than yesterday?

Then she saw me.

Her expression changed, something like sadness… maybe disappointment. Maybe something else.

For a second, it looked like she raised her hand.

Or maybe I just imagined it. The train started moving. And disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.

My mind was somewhere else again.

I can barely remember what I did all day. I went through the usual routine, but it felt like I wasn’t really there. Like part of me was still on that train, waiting for that beautiful, black-haired woman to look at me again… to smile… to shyly glance away.

The next thing I knew, I was already home.

The whole day slipped away in daydreams, imagining possibilities that probably had no chance of ever happening. Or hoping… wishing… that I’d get some kind of sign that she was actually interested in me. And then, just as quickly, I’d sink into this quiet dread, convincing myself it was all in my head. That tomorrow, I’d probably see her with some other guy.

I couldn’t fall asleep.

I tossed and turned, restless, wide awake. And when I finally drifted off, I almost immediately found myself somewhere strange… but familiar.

I was on the train.

The same gray, ordinary subway car I always rode. But it was empty.

Completely empty. I was alone. At least… I thought I was.

Because when I looked beside me, she was there.

Smaller than I remembered. Pale, almost unnaturally so.

And I knew instantly. It was her.

She turned to me, those large blue eyes locking onto mine.

“Come,” she whispered, leaning closer to me. “Come home with me.”

I could feel the warmth of her body. The soft, sweet scent of her perfume wrapping around me. The way her jet-black hair brushed lightly against my skin.

My body trembled. My heart pounded. It didn’t feel like a dream.

It felt real.

She adjusted the shoulder of her dark red dress, then slowly rested her head against me. Her hand slid onto my thigh, soft, deliberate… intimate.

My alarm dragged me out of it.

I shot up in bed, gasping for air. My whole body was drenched in sweat, and every part of me wanted to go back.

Back to that dream.

But was it even a dream?

My morning routine blurred together. My thoughts felt foggy, distant. There was no room in my mind for anything else.

Only her.

I was pacing nervously on the subway platform.

The crowd kept growing, more and more people piling in. But she was nowhere to be seen. After that… dream the night before, I needed to see her. There was no way she just wouldn’t be here. That would’ve completely broken me.

Like some kind of lunatic, I kept snapping my head around, scanning the crowd, thinking maybe I just missed her… maybe she was standing somewhere else.

But she wasn’t there.

I let two trains go by, telling myself maybe she was just late. Maybe she took a different route today.

But she didn’t come. By then I was already running late for work, and my mood had gone to shit. Even this tiny bit of happiness had been taken from me. The one small light in this miserable life.

On the train, I just stared blankly ahead like a zombie. Nothing really mattered. I just wanted to see her.

Just for a second.

That black hair. Those deep, hypnotic blue eyes. I needed to see her.

When I got off, I drifted with the crowd, my face completely drained. I wasn’t even looking at people anymore, just legs. Shoes. The same pants, the same suits. Everyone moving forward like it was the only thing that mattered in their lives.

Then suddenly… Something hit me.

A scent.

Something I’d never smelled before. Soft, sweet… almost addictive. A perfume that seemed to crawl into your head and start pulling at your thoughts.

But the crowd kept pushing me forward. There was no time to stop, no way to figure out where it was coming from. Everyone was rushing, trapped in the same endless loop.

I lifted my head, hope flooding back into me, searching for the source of that scent.

The scent I’d only ever dreamed about.

And then I saw her. Like a painting.

I was already near the escalator when some overweight, sweaty guy tried to shove past me, telling me to hurry up. But that moment… that single moment… is burned into my mind forever.

She was standing there.

The crowd moved around her, flowing past like there was some invisible barrier keeping them away. No one bumped into her. No one pushed her aside.

But who would dare?

She looked… excited. Like she’d been waiting there for a long time. Like she was searching for someone. For someone she met every morning.

Was she waiting for me?

Maybe she took an earlier train and I was the idiot thinking she was late. She wore a light brown coat, perfectly outlining her slim figure. Her blue eyes practically glowed among all the dull, gray people around her.

Then she saw me.

Her gaze locked onto mine as I moved up the escalator. I could see it, the relief in her eyes, the tension in her face melting away.

She’d been waiting for me.

When I reached the top, there was no question in my mind. I had to wait for her.

No matter what, I had to talk to her. I needed to hear her voice. I needed more. I needed to know who she was.

So I waited.

And waited.

Long minutes passed, but she never came up. I started biting my nails, pacing, stepping a little farther from the entrance but still watching every single person coming up.

But she wasn’t there.

The sound of my phone ringing snapped me out of it.

“Zeck, where the hell are you?” my boss’s voice cut in, irritated. “You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago. We have a meeting this morning.”

“Oh…” I didn’t even know what to say. Honestly, I didn’t care. I was still half watching the subway entrance. “I’m on my way, Derek. Just… ran into something this morning. I’m coming. I’ll be there.”

I stayed a few seconds longer. Waiting for my blue-eyed muse to appear.

But no one came. Just the same dull, forgettable people. Finally, I turned away, completely disconnected from reality, and headed to work.

I was almost an hour late. But no one would understand.

For the first time… I had something to hold onto.

I just sat there, staring at my monitor.

I barely got any actual work done all day. My mind was stuck on one thing, the woman from the subway. I could see her in front of me: those red lips, those deep, ocean-blue eyes, her long, straight black hair.

When lunch break came, I told myself I’d go grab something to eat.

I ended up at the subway instead.

I just stood there, waiting. Hoping she’d show up. Maybe she’d pass through, maybe she’d be heading somewhere nearby, maybe, by some random chance, she’d be there.

But she wasn’t.

I spent almost an hour down there, and honestly, I don’t even know what I was expecting. I didn’t get food. I just stood on the platform and waited. I went back to work with my stomach growling, but I didn’t care.

What bothered me more was that I could only ever see her in that one short moment in the morning.

Just a glimpse.

That’s all I ever got.

By the time I finally finished work, I was completely drained. Tense. On edge. Craving just one more look at her.

I stayed near the subway station until it got dark, sitting on a nearby bench, watching. Hoping I’d catch her on her way home.

That I’d finally get to talk to her.

But she never showed up.

Doesn’t she go this way? Did she leave earlier? Why wasn’t she here? …Was she with someone else?

By the time I got home, my head was pounding with questions. I just wanted to see her again. At that point, I would’ve settled for just standing near her on the train.

The moment I walked into my apartment, I collapsed onto the couch. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t rest.

I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to eat.

All I could think about was her. That woman. That beauty on the subway.

By morning, I was dizzy. The world felt blurred around me. My steps were heavy, unsteady, but somehow I pulled myself together and headed out again.

Not because of work. Because it was morning.

And I could see her again. I could see her.

There were way fewer people than usual for that time of day, but I pushed forward anyway, half stumbling down toward the familiar subway entrance. I was barely holding myself together, squinting, searching for that one thing that still mattered.

But she wasn’t there.

Again. And the train didn’t come.

Minutes passed. Nothing. I glanced up at the display.

8 minutes until the next train.

Why?

It usually runs every two or three minutes.

What the hell is going on today?

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The battery was almost dead.

Saturday.

I didn’t even have work today.

…When did it become Saturday? How many days have I been searching for this woman?

I… I don’t even know what I was doing anymore.

I wandered around the neighborhood, sometimes going home, sometimes just hanging around the subway station. There were times I stood out there for hours, just waiting. My entire weekend was spent focused on one thing: seeing her again. Maybe she’d be around the corner. Maybe I’d run into her on the subway stairs.

But she was nowhere.

I searched for her obsessively, like I was losing my mind. People started avoiding me, giving me weird looks. They probably thought I was some kind of crazy homeless guy living on the streets.

I don’t even know how many days I went without properly eating or drinking. Sometimes, when it crossed my mind, or when the hunger got too strong, I’d go home. But even that felt unbearable. Because all I could think about was this:

While I’m here… she might be out there. Going to the subway. Going to the store. Just walking somewhere.

So every time I got home, I’d almost immediately rush back out into the street.

I had no idea what day it was anymore. No idea how long I’d been drifting around, searching for that black-haired woman.

Then it was morning again.

The crowd moved through the streets like it always did. My clothes were filthy, wet, stained, covered in grime. It looked like I’d been like this for far longer than just a weekend.

Some broken part of my mind just decided, like this was normal, that I should go to work. So I grabbed my half-empty briefcase and joined the crowd.

I stood there with them, waiting for the train. People moved away from me. Some gave me looks, rolled their eyes.

But to me, it felt like just another normal morning.

Until the train arrived. She was on it.

Like a beam of light, cutting through my dull, gray world. Her black hair seemed to glow inside the subway car, standing out among all the lifeless faces. Her red lips shimmered. Her blue eyes danced, and the moment she saw me, they locked onto me.

It felt like I didn’t even need to think anymore. Like my body was moving on its own, guided by something else.

I don’t remember who I pushed past. Who I shoved out of the way.

But suddenly…

I was standing right in front of her.

The crowded subway car pressed us together, bodies packed tight. I could smell her, that same sweet, almost intoxicating perfume. She didn’t look at me directly, acting like she was focused somewhere else.

My brain wasn’t working. Not a single decent line came to mind.

“Hey… uh…” I leaned closer, awkwardly. “I mean… we ride the same train a lot… I’ve seen you around… you work somewhere near here or something?”

She didn’t respond right away. Didn’t make a face, didn’t turn away.

It was like she was just… watching me with those beautiful eyes.

“I mean…” I tried to recover. “I’ve seen you around here before. Where do you work?”

“I don’t work around here,” she said suddenly.

Her voice was soft. Light. Almost musical. I couldn’t have imagined anything more perfect.

“Oh… right,” I said, caught off guard. “Then why do you come this way in the mornings?”

“I have business here,” she replied, smiling faintly as she looked away.

It felt like a dream. A perfect, living dream.

“Yeah…” I smiled too. “Guess I do too, if you think about it.”

We both laughed quietly.

“I’m getting off here,” she said as the train began to slow.

“Me too,” I answered instantly, without thinking. “I was heading this way anyway.”

She smiled to herself, then brushed her hair behind her ear. Her neck, pale, smooth, almost seemed to glow.

She was perfect.

When the train came to a full stop, the crowd shifted, and we moved with it. As we stepped off, she stumbled slightly in her heels.

I caught her.

“You okay?” I asked, trying to sound calm.

“Yeah… yeah,” she said. “These stupid shoes. But thank you—for catching me.”

I smiled at her, my chest practically bursting. Walking there with her, arm in arm… I could feel people staring. The jealousy. The judgment. Men checking her out. Women looking at her with envy.

We moved through the station together, like some kind of royal couple.

And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life.

“Where are you heading next?” she asked as we reached the top of the escalator.

That’s when it hit me, I wasn’t even at my usual stop. I had no idea where I was.

But it didn’t matter. I’d already won.

“I guess… wherever you’re going,” I said with a smile, trying to sound casual. “I’ve got time. I can walk you for a bit.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” she laughed softly, running her gloved hand along my arm. “Come on, then.”

We walked a few blocks. The morning crowd thinned out, the streets growing quieter. I walked beside her, proud, completely lost in that warm haze. I didn’t even notice when we turned into an alley.

Between trash bags and rotting piles of garbage.

She suddenly stopped, slipping her arm out of mine.

I turned back, confused.

She just stood there. Her face had gone serious, and her blue eyes… they seemed brighter now. Not warm, something else. Something sick.

They moved like waves.

Like the ocean pulling you under.

“My dear,” she said. But her lips didn’t move. “Give yourself to me.”

I heard the words, clear as day, but she hadn’t spoken them. Or maybe she had… just not with her mouth.

It was inside my head.

Soft. Melodic. Pulling me in.

“What… what do you want?” I asked, my voice shaking.

She didn’t answer.

She stepped closer. Right in front of me. Her hand pressed against my chest, too light, too cold. Those shifting eyes studied my face.

Then the smell hit me.

That sweet, intoxicating scent, but here, surrounded by garbage, it felt wrong. Rotting. Worse than the stench around us.

And then… I was on the ground.

Just like that.

The world spun, but somehow I felt like I was spinning the other way. The woman I had thought was so beautiful stood over me.

She pulled off her glove.

Her fingers were long.

Black. As black as her hair. As her eyes.

I couldn’t move. I lay there on a wet trash bag, everything feeling like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. The haze was gone.

Completely gone.

She still looked young. Beautiful. But there was something else now.

Something not human.

Her pale skin shimmered faintly. Her blue eyes flickered, unnatural. And I knew.

This thing had been playing with me.

She raised one of those long, black fingers, then slowly grabbed my face, squeezing my mouth open. With her other hand, she forced a finger down my throat.

A sharp, tearing pain ripped through me.

I felt it, felt that black, claw-like nail scraping down my throat, deeper, tearing into something I didn’t even know I had.

And then… Something worse. Much worse.

It felt like something inside me was being pulled out.

From somewhere deep. Somewhere no one should ever reach.

It lasted maybe a second. She yanked her finger back out.

Tears streamed down my face. My lips trembled as her finger slid free with a wet, sickening sound.

And then I saw it.

A small… glowing blue droplet, slipping out of my mouth.

Before it could fall, she caught it. She looked at it for a moment.

Then swallowed it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost playfully. “But this is what keeps me alive… my dear knight.”

My body still wouldn’t move. My muscles locked, frozen. Tears kept falling, but inside…

There was nothing. Just emptiness.

She calmly put her glove back on. Adjusted her clothes.

And when she was done, she leaned down and pressed a slow, sensual kiss against my lips.

Then she stood up,and just walked away.

Like she had never been there. Leaving me behind.

Empty. Alone.

Everything was… blurry.

I don’t know when my body finally came back to me, or where that thing, disguised as a woman, had gone. I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

I didn’t feel any longing for her.

I didn’t feel the need to go back to the subway.

I was just… empty.

Like a hollow shell, stumbling forward.

My body felt exhausted, like I hadn’t slept in weeks. I hadn’t even noticed before, but I wasn’t wearing any shoes. I had lost weight, way more than I should have. My hair was matted, sticking out in every direction.

But the worst part wasn’t how I looked.

It was how I felt. Or… didn’t feel.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It was like I had lost the ability to feel anything at all. Like that part of me, the part that reacts to the world, that feels something, had been taken.

I somehow made it back home.

My apartment was a mess. It looked like I hadn’t done anything but come home and trash the place for weeks.

I collapsed into bed and passed out instantly.

When I woke up, I cleaned everything.

Myself. The apartment. As it turned out, I’d been fired three weeks ago.

I got another job. Slowly pulled my life back together.

But the one thing I couldn’t fix… was what was inside me.

I was like a machine. No purpose. Nothing entertained me. Nothing made me angry. I couldn’t feel joy, not even the simplest kind.

Days would pass like that.

It felt like a mental breakdown.

Except for one small detail… something I couldn’t explain.

One afternoon, I was heading home from work.

As I got down to the subway, the train I was about to catch was already closing its doors.

And there she was. Standing inside.

That same woman. Long black hair. Ocean-blue eyes.

She didn’t recognize me. Or maybe she just didn’t care.

She was watching someone else.

A heavyset guy.

The way he looked at her… that same desperate hunger.

The air around me felt like it froze.

But I didn’t feel anything. Not a single thing.

Not even now.