Suspense Digest June 2019 Part 2 Link

The ceiling panel above him bowed inward. Once. Twice. A thin crack spiderwebbed across the white plastic. A single drop of dark, viscous fluid—not water, not oil—fell onto Arthur’s shoulder. He didn’t wipe it away. He just started to cry.

By J. H. Merrow

The hand from the ceiling recoiled.

The conductor’s voice crackled over the intercom, thin and stretched. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing a minor… delay. We will be stationary for a brief period. Please remain seated.” suspense digest june 2019 part 2

Or had she?

Arthur leaned over. His breath smelled of rust and lilies. “It only takes the one who volunteers,” he whispered. “Say yes, and the rest of us go free. Say no… and we ride this wreck for another twenty-two years.” The ceiling panel above him bowed inward