The city bus smells of urine and body odor.
The dull blue cloth of the seats are cloaked and stained with years of collective sweat and bodily fluids dispensed from an array of passengers suffocated and cramped in the overcrowded space. I cringe at the thought that I will have to ride it. My freshly showered body and pressed clean clothes will become sticky in the mold of layered disgust which I must sit in for a duration of one hundred and twenty minutes before I'm sure to reach any recognizable area of town. My heart races and a stiff anxiety begins to creep through me that is inconsolable.

My extremely anal retentive germophobia will soon cause me to be consumed with panic. Searching for alternatives to this foul option I reach the conclusion that this ride will be inevitable.The taxi cabs are running over a three hour wait and no one I know can swing me a ride this far out of the way on such short notice. I was at least an hour from the city, maybe more than that.

I silently curse my car alternator which a half hour's research on Google has informed me is most likely the problem. I consider trying Triple A but I'm absolutely clueless as to where to tell them I am with neither my car or phone g.p.s. working. Minutes later the bars available for my reception diminish and I cant place any calls.
"Splendid! How is this my life?", I curse the geographically incorrect g.p.s. navigation system that cost me two hundred dollars yet still misdirected me to this desolate wasteland like neighborhood in the middle of Nowheresville, Missouri. As I kick the old, white ragtop mustang in frustration, above me dark clouds billow menacingly in the sky foreshadowing a certain sense of doom for what lies ahead as I walk toward a trash littered bus stop. My legs began to feel as though they might collapse  rather than walk but the fighter within urged me to brainstorm ways to avoid having to sit if I now must get on a bus. I could stand and hold tightly to the germ laced railings,shielding my hands with a glove or Kleenex retrieved from the car. I would struggle to maintain my balance I was sure, but it beat the possibility of having to share a crummy herpied seat with some stranger.

As though it were not already enough to be stranded and alone without any cell reception, the sky had begun to darken. Scattered lightning danced picturesque in the sky accompanied by slow creeping thunder. As I grew progressively discomforted by these circumstances I could feel arise deep within the pit of my stomach a sense that my immediate future would be disturbingly ominous and peculiar. As I turned to face the street not more than one full minute passed before a slow moving large bus appeared heading toward me. Already something was odd.This day in age they didn't service buses like this.

The thing pulled up noisily beside me releasing a toxic bloom of smoke. Route 669 was loosely attached and displayed on front. I could feel the heat of the roaring motor as the bus almost seemed to painfully groan it's doors open for my passage.

I could not soon forget the sight my eyes met looking up to see the lifeless expression on the drivers face as I hesitantly stepped aboard. His eyes were flat with an unblinking stillness that made him appear as though he'd been created at a Build-A-Bear warehouse. His smile, highlighted by a bright circus red smear of lipstick, was animated and the curled corners of his lips seemed to almost reach his ears in a jester, clown like way. Astonished at such a bizarre sight I forced myself to peel my eyes away, poker facing my way through disgust, I fumbled through my purse in search for fare. Before I could locate any change joker face informed me that my ride was on the house.

I felt as though I was being "punked". At any moment Ashton Kutcher would appear with both the sun and my real car proving this had all been a joke just for kicks. I rounded the corner to look for the least appalling seat available I became more aware that there was indeed a reason for my caution.The doors moaned closed behind me and immediately a parade of heavy raindrops began to shower the bus stop. Turning into the interior I could see filthy stains on almost every seat. Vomit half on the floor in the walking isle and half on a seat four rows back, smelled of tequila. To the right an open diaper left smears of a runny brown substance wedged between two seats. A herd of flies surrounded the area and maggots had began to form in the decomposing padding signifying it had obviously lain there endlessly. Choking back waves of nausea through my mere astonishment I wondered how on earth a health department in any town anywhere could allow this toxic old machine to run? 

I held on tight to a bannister using my jacket sleeve as a protecting barrier for my skin. As heinous as it was inside the bus was still as abandoned as the rest of this town appeared. It simply didn't add up. How were there absolutely no other passengers boarded yet so many traces of them left behind?

As the rain thickened fogging up the glass it became nearly impossible to see the outside world, not one house, building or tree aside from various flashes of color. Visibility went from worse to non- existent in a matter of seconds.

A monstrous thunder seemed to shake the earths foundation and fierce winds threatened and shook the bus's stability.
The sky had blackened nearly but maintained traces of a green tint.This was not good. I was concerned that the storm might happen to be more severe than either of us was prepared for.
Startling me the driver unleashed a sudden loud precocious laugh that hinted that he knew more information than I on the issue of our fate through this ride. I wanted to ask how far out town was but the idea of coming face to face with the driver again churned my stomach even more.

Something felt so wrong here. It was a surreal situation like the set to a tragic film. This bus was wildly out of place, overly disgusting and suspicious. Without warning the bus wretched and jumped violently following a harsh crash and ear splitting turbulence of thunder. In this time I was thrust backward off my feet into a grimy bus seat as the we began to incline up a steep hill out of sight through the suffocating fog of the storm. With my anxiety heightened I begin to feel for the first time, afraid. My intuition was preparing me and adrenaline pulsed through me rapidly. I clenched my eyes shut tightly holding the bannister so intensely that my hand hurt. I braced for the climax of calamity to calm. I sucked in a deep breath before attempting to pull myself up to gain my bearings. Opening my eyes again I saw I was no longer alone. There was a presence in the passenger area of the seats. Although I had felt certain that there had been absolutely no passengers on the bus at all when I boarded I was shocked to see the slumped, hooded figure of a passenger now two seats behind me on my left. Before I had time to absorb and mentally process what I was seeing behind me, the bus lurched rattling through the blind roads of the hill without regard, rapidly increasing speed somehow never fighting any resistance.

Though the laws of physics were being challenged recklessly before my eyes and though the prospect of the bus tires hydroplaning was more than a possibility at any second, I still was more primarily focused however on the person who seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere less than four feet from me. The internal light fixtures illuminating the interior back began to flicker in a pattern isolated to those closest in proximity to the slumped figure of what looked to be a man in a dark cloak. Each light one by one began to fizzle out completely and deliberately. Two, then three lights  out of the six present were out, flickering weakly before giving way to darkness, while the shadowy man used long bony fingers to remove his hood. My breath grew shallow when the man began to slowly raise his head up, almost completely in shadow with the exception for one last lingering light.
A vibrant and spontaneous burst of flames lit around a face like ghost rider as I reached the horrible realization that this daunting person standing slowly, advancing toward me with the same familiar dead smile, was the driver of the bus. 

Each chapter will result in a cliff hanger progressively getting more and more intricately horrifying. I'm excited to continue this series.

Riveting arrangement of characters to form words that chillfully evoke this response.  You have a talent for writing detail and building suspense, I enjoyed the piece. 

I know it has been awhile sense you posted this but I am just now recovering the email account associated with this site so I could log in lol. Anyhow thank you for your compliment!! I love feedback!