Teke Two by Liam Hogan

Anderson retches into the dark void between the rails.

“Teke Teke,” I say, when he returns, ashen faced. “The vengeful spirit of a schoolgirl tied to the tracks and cut in half by a train.”

“That’s no girl.” He nods at the jacketed torso. The pinstriped lower half lies discarded at the far end of the platform, a bloody trail of handprints stretch between.

“No,” I agree. “Her latest victim.”

“She kills late night commuters, at random?”

I eye my slender partner, trying to guess the size of his waist. “Not quite at random. She’s searching for legs that fit.”