Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S1 Ep31: Episode 31: Train Horror Stories

Episode Date: May 27, 2021

Tonight's show is proudly sponsored by Manscaped: get 20% Off and Free Shipping with the code CREEP at https://www.manscaped.com/ Today’s opening tale of terror is the ‘The train I'm on hasn't stopped driving for 17 days’, an original work by the wonderfully talented Richard Saxon, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and Dr. Creepen’s Vault so that I could narrate it here for you all, with the author’s express permission. https://www.reddit.com/user/RichardSaxon/ We conclude tonight’s show with ‘Every Single Passenger in This Train Is Going to Die’, a wonderful story By Mandahrk, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission:  https://www.reddit.com/user/Mandahrk

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please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Well, they say that the best way of catching a train is to miss the train before. Tonight's two tales feature trains that we may just not want to catch. Our opening feature-length tale of terror is the train Amon hasn't stopped driving for 17 days by Richard Saxon. And later on, we have every single passenger in this train is going to die by Mandar. Now before we begin, as ever a word of caution.

Tonight's stories may contain strong language, as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. I was jolted back to consciousness by a violent coughing fit caused by the unnaturally dry air around me. Drops of sweat had piled up and started trickling down my forehead. It was dark, not a single ray of light to even make it. out my closest surroundings. My memory served little help in recognizing my whereabouts, but upon fumbling around with my weak hands, I noticed I was sitting in a fabric-coated chair in a room that seemed to vibrate

ever so slightly. As my eyes started to adapt to the overwhelming darkness, I could start to make out the vague shape of my room. There were three seats facing each other with windows on the right-hand side, though they revealed nothing more than an empty void on the other side. on the other side was a door with a small window which led out into a hallway and then it dawned on me where i'd woken up it was a train compartment and the train was still moving though seemingly rid of any other people i tried to get up and my legs refused to properly cooperate they were too weak as if they hadn't been used for days then some memories started to return i was travelling I remember getting on the train, though I hadn't the faintest idea what my destination should have been. My memory simply cut short after stepping inside my empty compartment.

That had been November the 12th. I checked my pockets to look for clues. Found my phone, which had long since run out of power, and my wallet, though it contained a ticket. In the dark it just looked like weird scribbles on a piece of paper. With an incredible amount of effort, I finally managed to get my legs working enough to stand up. Though I had to use the wall as a support, it was enough to move around and I soon stumbled into the hallway of my train car. I took a moment to look through the windows in the hallway, and the world outside was empty. It both looked and felt as if nothing existed outside the boundaries of the train.

The darkness made it hard to navigate without falling to the ground. I tried to look for a light switch, or at the very least another person to help me out, but none were in sight. I peaked in through the window into the next compartment, and I could see the vague shape of people sitting in their seats, but upon trying to enter, I realised that the door was locked. I tried to knock, but the people on the other side didn't even flinch. When I tried to call out for them,

I realised my voice had almost completely vanished, replaced by just a whisper. I made my way from compartment to compartment, while they all seemed to be occupied, none would open and not a single person responded to my increasingly frantic knocks. As I reached the last compartment of the car, the train turned ever so slightly on its tracks, enough to knock me to the ground.

While I lied there, I tried to call out for help with my barely audible voice, but no one could hear me. I got to my feet while the train still turned, and noticed the door to the last compartment slowly glide open from the turn. Hello, can anyone hear me? I called out with a trembling voice as I approached the open door. No response, either because the compartment was empty or because my voice hadn't been used for so long that it barely functioned.

I slowly peeked my head around the corner to see the compartment fully occupied by dark figures, All of them sitting perfectly still in their seats. Hello, I said again. I took a step inside. My eyes had started to fully adjust to my dark surroundings, and I quickly realized that not only were the people sitting perfectly still, but they weren't even breathing. The horrible thought of them being dead struck me like a hammer,

but I had to make sure. I bent down on my knees next to the close, this man and shook him gently. Still, he didn't respond. I then checked for a pulse, and though I'm not a doctor, I couldn't find any signs of life. I heard a small beep that shocked me to my feet, and I looked down to see the man wearing a digital watch that alerted him that an hour had passed. I looked at the watch and noticed the date was also written in the centre. The 29th of November. It had been 17 days. since I'd boarded the train.

With a trembling hand, I checked the rest of the people for signs of life. All of them were, beyond a shadow of a doubt, dead. Panic arose in my body, both from the presence of dead people and from the realization that I'd been asleep on a moving train for more than two weeks. I collapsed to the ground in front of one of the dead passengers. She was an elderly woman, dressed elegantly with wide-open, piercing blue eyes. I didn't want to stay in the compartment with them, but I was paralysed by the lack of a plan. There I sat, surrounded by six dead people, trying to contemplate my next step.

The train was still moving, which clearly meant that someone had to be in control of it, a conductor, or at least someone with an idea as to what the hell was going on. So I decided that my best bet would be made my way to the locomotive, and pray that not everyone had died on the train. All the while these thoughts ran through my head, I couldn't take my eyes off that elderly lady. Something just felt off by their presence. Firstly, there wasn't any smell, meaning that they hadn't started to decompose, and secondly, all of them had their eyes open wider than I thought possible.

Before I could consider the bizarre situation any further, the woman suddenly blinked. I shot to my feet in horror as she blinked again. I double-checked her pulse, still nothing, yet her eyes kept blinking without any other signs of life. In shock, I looked around to find that the other five dead passengers were also blinking rapidly. Without checking them for life, I jumped out of the compartment and shut the door. I noticed a chunk of wood missing from it, as if someone had kicked it in, leaving it unable to properly close. As I slowly backed away from the compartment, I glimpsed out through the windows, into the empty void beyond. I humoured the thought that we might be moving through a tunnel, but if so, how long could it possibly be?

I stepped into the next train car. Unlike the previous one, it wasn't divided into compartments, but rather filled with rows of seats split in the middle by a central passage. But, like the compartments, each seat was occupied by a dead passenger, each blinking in response as I quickly passed in panic. I walked through about 15 such cars, each alternating by rows of seats and compartments. And it felt like hours passed as I made my way towards the locomotive. Just as I was about to enter through a door marked first class, I was shoved to the floor by someone holding a bright light to my face.

Stay the fuck down, a deep voice shouted at me. Speechless, I could do nothing but comply with the man in front of me. Wait, you're not dead, the man asked. As he realised I was basically just a kid, barely in my twenties.

He moved the light away from me and reached out a hand to help me up. I'm sorry, I just heard someone moving and thought you were one of them, he said, as he pointed to the lifeless people sitting idly by in their seats. What's your name? he asked. I'm... I'm Thomas, I stuttered. As the shop from the bright light faded, I saw that the man was dressed in a police uniform, well-built and bald. The name's John Hendricks, he said, and we'd better get out of there before these bastards wake up again.

"'They're not dead,' I asked. "'Well, um, not exactly. "'It's like they're in hibernation.' "'I looked at him in confusion. "'People in hibernation?' "'Oh, they ain't people, kid. "'Not any more.' "'As he spoke those words,

"'he seemed surprised by something behind me. "'I was too slow,' he said, oddly calm. "'I turned around to see the people move, their heads around, all of them staring directly at us, their eyes now fixed and unblinking. We need to get out of here, John said as he pulled my arm and dragged me in through the door to another compartment car, though far nicer than one eye had awoken in. All the doors had opened, and people were slowly piling out from each compartment into the hallway, staring at us with their wide open eyes. We dove into the first available compartment, and the officer pushed one of

the people out from it and locked the door. He sighed. We'll be safe here for a bit. Hopefully they're just scouting. What the hell is... I started before the cop put his hand over my mouth, gesturing for me to keep quiet. Hey, keep it down, would you? He said quietly, clearly agitated by my idiocy. What's happening? I whispered. We've got to hold up in here until they go back to sleep. He stood up and peeked out the window into the hallway

before pulling down quickly back behind cover. The other passengers, what happened to them? I asked. Dead. Well, most of them anyways. Got a few survivors camped up in the dining car. I just came out to look for batteries, hoping we could get a phone working.

and get help. Hey, how the hell did you survive here all on your own? I, I don't know. I just woke up an hour ago, I said. I took out the ticket from my pocket and tried to read it. Officer Hendricks took his flashlight and set it to its lowest setting to help me read. The text on the ticket was a language I didn't recognize, just jumbled symbols and a date. Yeah, it's the same with all our tickets as well. None of this makes any damn sense. Do you remember where the train's going? I asked. He shook his hand.

People seem fairly docile. Can we just push our way through? They don't seem to be moving, I asked. He sighed again. Well, I'm not afraid of the things out there. It's what comes next that terrifies me. What is it? Hell, I don't even know what it really looks like.

It's massive and dark. It just uses those things to look around for survivors. We call them, as he tried to finish the sentence, a large thud could be heard on the other side of the door. I carefully peeked out through the window to see that all the people had collapsed back to the ground and that the door leading to the car behind us had opened up. A tall, obsidian black creature

pulled its way inside using large, tendril-like appendages. It had thin stumps that resembled legs And multiple more tendrils That slithered on along the walls Seeming to sense its surroundings Though it was vaguely humanoid in nature It didn't have a head nor any eyes John lifted a finger to his lip

And signalled for me to keep absolutely silent I noticed then he had his gun holstered Attached to his belt I pointed to it without saying a word but he just shook his head in response. The creature moved closer and before long it was standing just outside the door. Its arms spread out,

flattening out and covering the window. It started to form small cracks in the glass pane, allowing small tendrils to seep through. John whispered as sweat poured down his face. Suddenly he stood up and kicked the door, breaking it straight off its hinges. I barely faced the creature, but it allowed us enough wiggle room to bolt past it. He grabbed me and pushed me through the gap between the wall and the creature, getting caught up in its tendrils as he did,

and they latched onto him and buried into his leg. Ah, run! he yelled in agony as he tried to fight off the tendrils wrapping around him. Still feeling weak, I fell onto the floor of the hallway, as John desperately tried to get free from the rapidly enveloping tendrils around his leg. As their grip tightened, his service weapon, still in its holster, fell to the ground, out of reach from him. What are you waiting for? Get the fuck out of here! yelled. Refusing his orders, I dove to the floor and grabbed his gun. The absolute minimal amount of firearms knowledge I possessed,

I picked up the weapon and started firing at the center of the creature. frantically pulling the trigger I didn't stop until the excessively loud shots were replaced by silent clicks though the rounds barely phased the creature he did loosen its grip on John just enough for him to crawl away from certain death I helped into his bleeding feet and together he rushed through into the next train car where we pulled some loose chairs together and used them as a poorly constructed blockade

to slow down the creature We continued through the car, repeatedly tripping over the dozens of corpses littering the floor. I took a peek back at the barricade to see the creature slowly seeping through like a black fog before reforming itself on the other side. Hurry up, John yelled at me. The creature had almost fully formed by the time we got through to the next car. Unable to grab us, it quickly realized we were out of reach, and in response it split open its body down the middle,

revealing rows of black teeth and multiple tendrils that resembled tongues. It led out a horrific, high-pitched shriek that shook the entire train, almost destroying my eardrums. The sound itself awakened the dead people strewn across the hallway. They lifted their heads and looked around until they fixated their eyes on us, which alerted the creature to our presence. It moved quickly. All the while its tendrils stretched impossibly far towards us in a hungry attempt at catching us.

We were almost out at the dining car when I fell to the ground. A tendril had wrapped around my shoe, and John quickly grabbed my arms as I was pulled away. I screamed, and the door to the dining car shot open. Two men and one woman ran over and helped John pull me free from the tendrils grip. One of my shoes slid off in the process, allowing me to get away. We ran through the door and shut it behind us, while one of the men pulled a large metal rod through a makeshift lock.

Both John and I lay wheezing on the floor from exhaustion as I tried to look around, observing my new surroundings. The car was full of booths with a small bar all the way up front, covered in canned foods and bottled water. In the corner I saw a few bags full of waste, and empty food wrappings. The entire car was dimly lit up by a couple of rows of emergency lights on the ceiling,

and it was clear they'd survived there for a couple of weeks already. Though if the four of them were, all that remained, I didn't know. What the hell happened to you, John? A man in his 50s asked. They must have seen me coming. I don't know how, John said, still out of breath.

They kept looking back at him in shock, not satisfied by his answer. So he continued. I didn't even use the flashlight until I saw Thomas here, and by then they'd already awoken. So you waited until they went back to sleep? The woman asked. No, they'd already seen us,

and we had to make a run for it. I came back as quickly as I could. His last sentences shut everyone up, and John stared at them, confused. John? You were gone for two days, she finally said. Don't be ridiculous. I was gone for a couple of hours at most.

She pulled out a digital watch and showed John the time and date. It's December 1st, she said quietly. That's... John trowed off, speechless by the realization. How'd they see you anyway? They're not exactly observant unless someone disturbs them. One of the men said in a condescending tone, I don't know, Frank.

Don't you think I did it on purpose? I thought back to the old lady I'd seen in the first compartment and realized John hadn't been discovered at all. I was the one who got caught. Officer, I tried to say before John interrupted me. John, he corrected me. We're in another freaking dimension or some shit. no need for ranks or titles.

I tried to confess again, but the woman noticed John's bleeding leg and rushed over to him. You're bleeding, she said. Ah, it's nothing. The Sentinel got a hold of my leg. Don't worry, I'm fine. Just sit down. Let me have a look anyway. John sat down and the woman rolled up his trouser leg to reveal deep gashes in his calf.

Oh, you'll need stitches. Hey, get me the make kit, will you? She said as she pointed to Frank. While she did her best to fix up John's leg, I got a better look at the door. They'd reinforced it with pieces of metal around the edges, also covering the window, preventing the creature from seeping through the cracks

and its surveyors from seeing through it. On the wall beside the door, someone had etched lines, marking each past day. Nineteen lines for 19 days passed on a train that never stops. The oldest man, Frank, came over to me, looking as suspicious as ever. Who are you? he asked firmly. Thomas, I responded. You want to tell us how you survive 19 days or on your own, without food or water?

Well, I couldn't answer his question. To me, only a few hours had passed. And though I felt thirsty from fleeing, I wasn't even close to being parched. I don't know, I stuttered. Why do you mean you don't know? How can you not know? Frank said, getting agitated. Hey, give him a break, Frank. If you hadn't left your bag behind, I wouldn't even have had to go out and risk my life, John interjected.

Well, that was enough to shut Frank up, though an asshole, he knew his place in the group. The other younger guy came up to me and reached out his head. I'm Philip, and that's Maya. He said as he pointed to the woman fixing up John. And lastly, that's Frank. Don't pay him any attention. He's a pain in the ass 99% of the time. Whatever, Frank interrupted.

Did you get the batteries at least? Yeah, of course I did, you twat. They're in the bag, John said. I just stood there, trying to get a grasp on the situation. barely responding to the other's questions. Don't worry about it, Thomas. Maya said as she noticed the absolutely baffled expression on my face. Huh?

None of us remember what happened. We all just woke up at different times on the train and had the idea to make our way here. Well, it's safe, mostly, and the sentinels keep us from going out very often. You're lucky John found you. Sentinels? Yeah, the thing that chased us, John explained.

A bright light penetrated the otherwise gloomy car, as Frank booted up his phone, using one of the battery packs. Without hesitation, he attempted to dial a number. Put it on speaker if you're trying to call someone. John said, still waiting for Maya to finish bandaging his leg. No one responded on the other end, but no sooner had Frank lowered the phone to input another number. before he started ringing, blocked caller ID.

For a few moments, he just held the phone in shock, before he regained his senses and answered. Hello? No response. Hello? Can anyone hear us? Frank asked again. We listened intently to the emptiness on the other end of the line, and a minute passed without anyone speaking.

There's no one there, Maya said. Before any of us could respond, the phone started emitting repetitive beeping sounds. They continued for almost a minute, none of us daring to speak up while we listened. Once it was finished, the call ended on its own. Frank looked around at us, wearing a confused expression. What the hell was that? John asked.

No clue. It was just a bunch of beeps. designation Gehena one hundred eight hours do not get off the train i said what it was morse cold learned it as a kid to secretly communicate in class yeah i know it's dumb but well i was a geek but i'm absolutely sure that's what the message said they looked at each other for a moment still visibly confused and then back at me "'Gahena? What does that mean?' Maya asked. "'F Forget that,' Frank interjected. "'Why are they telling us to stay on this freaking train?' "'We fell silent again as Frank attempted to dial another number.

"'To no event. "'One hundred and eight hours. "'Just over four days before we reach our next station. "'We can do that. "'Just got to stay here. "'We have enough provisions for at least two weeks,' John said. So that's it? We just sit here in the dark for another four days? Frank asked. A small argument ensued, and while they discussed what we'd do at the train station,

I took a moment to look out of the window. The vast emptiness was horrifying on its own. I wondered how far the darkness reached, if it had an end, or if anything lived in the void. Part of me felt dread as I pondered these questions. I felt dread as if the train was nothing more than a mere figment of my decaying mind, but the pain was ever too real. The tiredness felt too overwhelming for this world to be fake. I took my dead phone, grabbed one of the battery packs, and plugged it in.

The others were too busy discussing to notice me wasting power, but I just needed to write down some of my thoughts over text, ready to send if we happened to get a signal. I sent it to my dad, hoping he'd share the story should I not make it back. While I patiently waited for the text to go through, I kept staring into the dull. Some parts were blacker than their surroundings,

and I then noticed they weren't just patches that contrasted with the rest of the environment, but moving things, almost vanta black, like a shadow moving through the night. It glided in the air alongside the train, quietly looming by with this eyeless body. It was a sentinel.

Guys, I said quietly. They kept on arguing. Guys, there's a sentinel outside, I said much louder. John broke off from the argument, and everyone fell silent as we watched the creature fly beside the train. Then we noticed another. And a third, and a fourth, and before long we could make out hundreds, if not thousands of sentinels following the train. Don't worry, they shouldn't be able to see us or hear us without their surveyors, Philip said.

We all kept staring at the shadowy things in the void, and though Philip was right, they couldn't possibly see us without their aids. There was one undeniable fact about them that just didn't make sense. They were getting closer. John grabbed me and pulled me down to the floor, away from the window. Stay the fuck down, he whispered. While we lay there, Frank and Philip rushed to cover up the windows with whatever debris and furniture they could get loose from the floor. Do they know we're here? Maya asked. Doesn't matter. We ain't taking any risks.

We need to survive for four more days until we reach Gahena. John responded. They were quick to block the windows, and within a minute we'd all settle down on the floor, where we tried to discuss our next move as quietly as possible. On the other side of the door, leading to the next car, we could hear the shuffling of surveyors trying to get in. They knew we were here, which meant the sentinels would be alerted very soon. They're behind the door, Frank said.

Can they hear us? I don't know, but stay quiet anyway. They might not know for sure that we're here, John said. What about you gun? If we just kill the surveyors, they won't be able to alert the sentinels. I don't have any ammo, besides. That idea is freaking stupid. Even with the emergency lights dimly illuminating our car,

it was hard to make out our surroundings, and with no idea how to turn them off, we could only pray that the surveyors didn't notice them either. A few hours passed with none of us daring to speak up, all fearing that the sentinels would come bursting in through the windows at any moment. The only one moving was Maya, and she only did that to check on John's leg. Do we have any antibiotics in the bag? she asked. Philip opened and rummished through a large travel bag.

In the dark he couldn't see much, and after a minute he decided just to empty the bag of all the random items they gathered on the train, finally pulling out a box of pills. Amoxelin, he half asked, half said. That's all we have, Maya asked. Philip nodded and tossed Meyer the bots. She handed them over to John, giving him instructions on when and how many to take. The first 24 hours, each marked by an innocuous beep from Meyer's digital watch. The first 24 hours. each one marked by an innocuous beat from Maya's digital watch.

I couldn't get my mind off that name. Gehena! It sounded familiar. It was definitely something I'd heard before, if only to be stuffed away in the back of my mind, polluted by pointless information I gathered throughout my life. Forty-two hours passed, as counted by the beats. People were getting restless, unable to stand up or, move around without alerting the surveyors.

We still hadn't made a decision whether to stay on the train as we reached Gohena or to bail out and try our luck somewhere else. Are we really going to listen to some cryptic message? Philip asked. Like, I don't want to be all pessimistic, but why should we trust them? They're telling us to stay on the train, but do they mean as it stops, or now while it's heading there? Maya asked.

It doesn't matter. Shouldn't we just do the exact opposite of what they tell us? No. Whatever happens, we're getting in the fuck off this train when it stops. As long as there's solid ground to walk on, we're not staying a minute longer than we have to. John interjected. Sixty hours passed, and the void lingered outside our train,

ever present and full of unseen horrors. Despite the stress, I'd somehow managed to drift off to sleep. though restless it was a deep sleep occupied by an incredibly vivid dream of gahena i saw it as an empty ruin of a city trapped in the centre of a steep valley mire and frank stood by my side with defeated expressions on their faces as we observed our surroundings a bright light lit up the grey sky almost blinding us with his presence I tried to lift my arms to block out at least some of the light, but I couldn't lift them. Something within the light had paralysed me, surging through my body with intense pain. As I winced in agony, my mind suddenly felt clearer than it ever had, and then I remembered. It was just a piece of fragmented information long since forgotten that I'd learned during my childhood during some religious class.

Gehena. It was hell, and we were heading straight for it. I awoke abruptly due to high-pitched, glaring sound emitting from a speaker system hidden in the ceiling. It jolted all of us to our feet in panic as we tried to decipher what it meant. What the hell is that sound? John yelled as he clutched his ears. It was rhythmic, morse cold, just like before, though in the mess of static. and distortions, I could barely make out the individual beeps. After a couple of minutes, despite the mess of sounds,

it became apparent that the sound was just a loop of beeps with a simple message playing on repeat. Leaving vacuus, stand by. Leaving vacuels, stand by. Leaving vacuice, standby. Leaving vacuice, standby. Leaving vacuous, stand by. It was incredibly loud, vibrating enough to loosen the already fragile barricade in front of the door and windows.

On the other side, the surveyors were trying to break through, and with a final push, the door gave in. Dozens of them flooded in through the broken barricade, stumbling over each other in the process. All the while, they kept their eyes fixated on each of us, non-blinking, full of agony. "'Push him out!' John yelled, as he rushed at them with a stick, shoving the one furthest behind back through the door. Then the next—but they just kept getting back up. The rest of us rushed to aid John in his futile attempt, but before we could even reach him,

every single window in the train shattered from the force of hundreds of sentinels throwing their mangled bodies at the car, covered in shards of broken glass. I fell to the ground alongside Frank, who tried to use me for balance. A piece of glass cut my left eye, temporarily blinding me from pain. As I got the piece of glass out,

I saw the sentinels digging their way through the broken windows, turning to a viscous fog and pouring in through each crack in our barricade, reforming themselves on the other side, just like before. It was hopeless, and all we could do was to stand there in frozen panic, unable to think of any plausible escape. Meyer and Philip had sought cover in one of the corners, where they sat embracing each other, while John charged at the sentinels wielding nothing more than a kitchen knife.

As the mix of sentinels and surveyors came at us, the alarm kept blaring, and I prepared for my quickly approaching demise. Leaving vacuars, stand by. Suddenly, an impossibly bright light filled the entire void, instantly turning the sentinels to mere filaments of darkness lingering in the air. It persisted for minutes, completely blinding out any memory of the empty void we'd left behind, and then the speaker gave out a new message in the form of Morse code. Designation, gain, 18 hours. Do not get off the train, the coat spoke. As quickly as it had come, the light faded.

It took a while for our eyes to adjust, but once they did, we were greeted by a brand-new world outside the windows. The once empty void had been replaced by endless fields of bright green grass, only contrasted by tall blue mountains in the horizon, miles and miles away. The sentinels themselves had all but vanished, while the Vayers had turned back into lifeless corpses, now doing nothing more than littering the hallways.

Where are we? Maya asked. Gehena, did we make it? Frank asked. No, we still have 18 hours left, I corrected him. I took a hopeful look out of the window and stared at the lush fields just out of reach. The ground looks so soft. and I contemplated for a moment whether it would be smarter just to jump off the train.

Well, that idea was quickly put to rest as I got a look around the train, now filled with blissful daylight that had immediately changed the mood. All right, let's head for the locomotive and try to shut this train down, John said. We quickly made our way through the train,

littered with the fresh corpses of people that had died weeks ago. Their connections to the same, sentinels had now been broken, leaving them limp on the ground with no direction. Once we reached the locomotive, we were faced with a heavy iron wall blocking our entrance, a door with no handle, nor a keyhole to open it. Great, what now? Frank asked. Well, maybe we can climb out one of the windows and get there from the outside, John suggested.

Before we could even indulge the idea of climbing on the outside of a moving train, we were all shoved to the ground as the train rapidly lost speed. The tracks screeched as the wheels locked themselves in place, and we quickly came to a sudden stop. What the hell just happened? We stopped, but there's no platform where anything outside. Maya said as she peeked outside the window. Doesn't matter, okay? Get your stuff.

We're getting off this nightmare. We returned to the dining car and picked up our bags, alongside any amount of food and supplies we could possibly carry. We hadn't yet reached Gahena, but considering the implications that we were heading straight for hell, this would be a safer bet. For the first time in weeks, we stepped down on solid ground, with a brilliant green field only a few feet away from us.

Philip took charge, carrying what little medical supplies we had, while John followed. There was a decently brisk wind that felt great in the otherwise hot climate, but the grass didn't seem to sway even the slightest. As minute a detail as it seemed, it warranted a closer look. They were crystals, green, razor-sharp crystals, that from just a few feet away resemble blades of grass. Wait, don't! I tried to yell, but it was a little bit.

too late, and Philip stepped down hard on the field. Oh, he yelled as the crystals cut through his shoes into the sole of his foot. The rest of us froze in our steps as we saw Philip pull back in agony, clutching his leg. Look, it's not grass. I trailed off. Fuck, it hurts, Philip groaned. Meyer instinctively ran to his aid and pulled off his shoe. Let me have a look, she said. There were green crystals embedded deep in its soul,

covered in jagged edges, making it almost impossible to pull out without causing more damage. We've got to get you back on them. Maya froze mid-sentence. The crystal was spreading, with tiny shards breaking off, embedding themselves into Philip's skin, tearing through it as they grew.

What's happening? Philip stuttered. Though the growth was slow at first, it quickly sped up, covering his entire foot within a minute, before proceeding up his leg. Get them off me! He yelled in pain as Maya tried to reach to rip them off, but John stopped her before she could touch them. Wait, you'll get them on you too, he yelled.

He pulled out his knife and got ready to peel the shards off Philip, but the crystal simply cut through the knife like butter, spreading onto that as well. In shock, John stumbled back and dropped his knife. Maya once again tried to run over and help him, but we all held her back. All we could do was stare at Philip as the crystals dug their way into his body,

his bones audibly cracking and his skin rupturing as they continued spreading. He just lay there. screaming in agony until the crystals got to his lungs, and before long his entire body had been turned to rock. Before we could even process or mourn our loss, the crystals started spreading along the ground, slowly making their way towards us.

Back on the train, John screamed. As we got back on board, we did our best to seal the windows and doors, but even then we had no proof it would stop the spring, spread. The train had broken down, and with no way of getting it back up and running. All we could do was to wait as the green field of crystals spread onto the train, and to us. It's just a matter of time. Meyer stared out through the train window, her eyes fixated on the crystallized remains of Philip. They'd known each other most of their lives, and now he had become nothing more than a memory. forever preserved within the green rocks. It had been a day since the train had broken down, but despite the time that had passed,

there wasn't any noticeable change in daylight. The sky hung above us, blue and bright, though no sun existed to let us know whether we were still on Earth. Instead, the light seemed evenly distributed across the sky with no visible source. I tried my best to comfort Meyer, though nothing I could say would ease the loss and trauma we'd all just experienced.

Our best bet were to simply keep everyone alive through the next part of our horrific nightmare. Though the crystals had slowed down once we retreated, they kept reaching out for the train and had already covered two of the cars in the back, slowly inching their way ahead

during the day we'd been stuck. They seemed to react to touch, spreading faster with any interaction between us and the environment outside the train. While trapped in the morbidly peaceful landscape. John had taken it upon himself to find a way into the locomotive. The entrance had been sealed by a heavy metal wall, and it seemed that even from the outside

there weren't any windows nor feasible way of entering. It was simply a block of iron that had effortlessly dragged us through two dimensions, broken down only to cause us pain. John, as fit as he was, had turned into a spitting image of death itself, both from exhaustion and the infection spreading through his wounded leg. Pearls of sweat formed on his forehead as he looked for different tools to smash his way through the wall, a noble but futile efforts. John, you need to get some rest, I demanded carefully, as I noticed him on the brink of collapse. I didn't dare say too much against him, both from fear of pissing him off

and because he stood to be our best chance of escape. No, I'm fine. Fine, he shouted back as he popped a couple of pills, a mixture between antibiotics and pain killers. He leaned against the wall, looking out through the window at the ever-growing crystals outside. There's no time to stop. If we don't do anything, we'll be dead in a matter of days. I know, John, but we can work without you for a couple of hours. You have to take care of yourself.

Just leave me alone. I need to think. There has to be a way inside. I know it, he said as he shoved his way past me after search for more tools. The train had turned quiet, illuminated by bright light from the sunless sky above. The air felt heavy and was filled with a stench of dead surveyors, but it was still preferable to the thread of sentinels, and in addition it was now an easy task to search for both supplies

and any equipment we could use to aid us in our escape attempts. Another day passed in the fields of crystals And Maya still hadn't spoken a word Apart from checking on John's bandaged wound And instructing him to keep taking the antibiotics Of course, despite the inflamed and painful cut on his leg He refused any rest Frank and I eventually decided that we force him to take a break

Even if it meant physically restraining him After a short talk with Maya to make sure she agreed we set out to force John into temporary retirement. He turned oddly quiet, and we had to search every car to finally find him collapsed on the ground with the bandage ripped off and black liquid oozing out from the wound.

Before we could even call Meyer into help, the train jolted to movement, quickly coming to a stop as the back cars had fused together with the crystals. The train, it's working again, Frank yelled excitedly, before realizing we weren't actually moving. We looked at each other in sudden realization and shouted simultaneously. The cars! We have to disconnect them, Frank suggested.

You do that. I'm going to stay with John. Tell Meyer we need her quickly, I said as Frank started running to the back of the train. I sat down and shook John in an attempt at waking him, and while he didn't respond, at least he was breathing. I glanced at the black liquid trickling down his leg, forming a puddle on the floor, not daring to touch it. Whatever it was, it didn't look anything like the yellow pus I'd expected from an infection. Maya came running to my aid, quickly checking his pulse and breathing. He's burning up, Maya said. Suddenly the train broke loose, and we started moving away from the green fields of infectious crystals. Frank joined us. Frank joined us. with as many supplies as he could carry from the back cars,

trying not to leave food or any medication behind. I can't believe we're moving again, Frank said gleefully as he returned to us, showing little concern for John's deteriorating state. Near the front of the train there was a sleeping car, which we cleaned out and then put John to rest. Moving this mountain of a man was a tough challenge on its own, but it was nothing next to the challenge of keeping him alive through sepsis, as the infection spread into his bloodstream.

Maya took on the task of watching John, making sure he drank and feeding him his antibiotics while the train moved closer to Gehena. It would only be a matter of hours until we reached our final destination, and I had yet to tell the others what the place truly was. While Frank was busy trying to contact the outside world, using one of the few battery packs still working,

I approached Maya to tell her the pitiful truth about ours. a journey. I sat down and glimpsed out the window, watching the landscape change as we quickly pass by. The infinite green lands that had taken Philip started to give way to solid rock, grey and continuous, with scant cracks breaking its perfect surface. Tall structures extended from some of the cracks, looking like red tree stems covered in veins and arteries, pulsating and twitching in response to our passing. At the top they broke up into the cross. They broke up into the road. It was a little bit of bubbles filled with swishing black goo, similar to what had oozed from John's wound. Red forests, reeking of rotten flesh, growing in density as we kept moving closer to a literal

hell. Every now and then, creatures would emerge from the densest parts of the structures. Bizarre beings, vaguely resembling horses, with long bodies and impossibly thin legs stretching at least fifteen feet away, and eyes that were pitch black, some of the same. and things, far too large for their heads. About a dozen of them had gotten an inkling to our presence, and galloped elegantly along our moving train, keeping up the pace. Maya, I have to tell you something, I said carefully. She didn't respond.

She just kept staring at the creatures that were following us. They never got too close, probably only curious as to what and who we were. We're not going to make it, are we? She said, without a hint of emotion in her voice. What do you mean? Gehena. I know the name. It means hell.

She continued. The red forest outside kept getting denser, forcing the creatures to break off, and as the trees grew taller, the sky darkened. I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier. I didn't want us to give up, she said. I kept my mouth shut.

She'd been struggling with the same information as me, yet she kept helping us. It wouldn't make sense for me to confess that I already knew as well. I'm sorry about Philip, I said after a minute of silence. Thanks. He would have wanted us to keep fighting. I check the watch, only to notice the seconds tick slower than normal. According to the time, we were only an hour away from Gain, but with every watch having slowed down,

there was no way of telling how far away we actually were. So, what do we do, I asked. When we get there? I nodded. I don't know, but right now we have to... She was cut off by John starting to shake violently, screaming in agony without fully regaining consciousness. At first, it looked like a seizure.

but once we saw his leg we realised it wasn't anything that could possibly be explained by modern medicine. His leg had torn open completely and black tendrils stretched out wriggling around in the air as if searching for something. The obsidian black appendages looked exactly like the flesh of the sentinels

and it immediately dawned on both of us that the sentinel had deliberately let John live after spreading itself within him. We both screamed in shock. unable to decide whether to leave John behind and flee, or to stay and try to help him. Frank came rushing in just in time to see one of the tendrils shoot out from the leg and try to grab me, but I dug beneath it just in time. What the?

We have to cut his leg off. Maya yelled in panic. Frank, get the knife, something hard. How are we going to... I tried to ask with a trembling voice. We'll cut through the flesh with a knife. and try to break the bone, but I... Before we could even start to plan out the amputation,

John shot to his legs, partially waking up from the pain, realizing what was going on. Get away from me, he groaned as one of the tendrils shot out at us, ripping flesh away as it extended from his wound. I pulled Maya with me, out from the compartment, and we fled forward into the next car, just as Frank came running back with an axe he'd found.

"'Where's John?' he asked. We didn't need to answer the question, because John quickly followed us, walking with his mangled, sentinel-infested leg. One of the tendrils had grown out from the wound, forming an amorphous black blob on the floor, still attached to John, feeding off his body. His leg are completely shattered and split open, but the infection had spread even further, reaching his abdomen, covered in tiny holes occupied by more dark appendages.

Amputation was no longer a viable option, so we kept backing away as John screamed in agony, visibly trying to fight against the sentinel's movement inside it. As we got to the space between cars, John unwillingly grabbed onto Maya with his arms. She fought back, but even without the tendrils, John was far stronger than all of us. I can't stop it, he forced out.

Please, use the axe. Frank got ready to hit John, but one of the tendrils swung at it, snatching it away. John kept fighting, turning his head to one of the exits, reaching out for it with all of his remaining willpower. Don't you freaking die on me? he said before pulling the handle. The door opened, John let himself. fall off the train to the thick mess of red trees and darlies. I held on to Maya as she collapsed to the floor from exhaustion, carefully checking if she'd been wounded from John's

grip. Frank closed the door John had fallen out through, and we all stared at each other in silence. John had died to protect us from himself, and with that an immense feeling of loneliness overwhelmed me. Now our best chance of survival was gone. An hour next stop will be hell itself. I kept staring at the slowly ticking clock. Based solely on my biological assessment of time, it felt like days had passed, but according to the clock itself,

it had been no more than a measly half hour. It was the same with each clock on the train. They simply didn't work together with reality, measuring each minute as a small eternity. With the John dead, we felt, more vulnerable than ever, and since his death we hadn't spoken a word. I know we're all on edge, but I think it's time we discuss what we'll do once the train stops again, Frank said in his usual annoyed tone. Both Meyer and I knew our true destination,

but hadn't yet told Frank. Alas, the time had come, and if we stood even the faintest chance of surviving, we all had to be able to rely on each other. Frank, we need to tell you something, I said. His eyes narrowed in suspicion at my obviously guilty tone. Tell me what? Our destination, Gehena. Well, I trailed off. Yeah, what about it?

It's... Gehena is hell, Frank. We're all going to hell. Maya burst out, annoyed by my hesitation. We fell silent for a few seconds while Frank processed what we just told him. Then, he suddenly burst out laughing. Really? Hell, that's the best you could do, he said. I nodded in response.

So, you mean to tell me that we're already dead, that our next stop will be the realm of Satan himself? Yeah, I guess. Why is that funny? Well, if you hadn't noticed already, two of us died. How's that possible if we're already dead? Where's John and Philip, huh? You had a point. Our conventional idea of hell required us to be dead already, though it never stated whether you could die twice

or what happens upon second death. Well, we're clearly not dead, but that doesn't mean we're not going to a horrific place. Regardless of what you might think, Gehena means hell, Maya said. The argument went on fruitlessly for a while. Frank never giving in and admitting we weren't going to reach salvation once the train stopped. In the meantime, I kept staring out of the window.

The once green fields of killer crystals had long since vanished, and the forest of red pillars had grown so dense that it finally blocked out each ray of light brave enough to attempt to illuminate our path. If I hadn't known better, I could have thought we were back in the void, but it felt different, far hotter than it had before, even more devoid of hope. Before I got a chance to question the environment, the darkness gave way to a large open space,

devoid of any life, just a rocky, flat surface surrounded by infinitely tall cliffs on each side. It was a valley, grey and dull, with little to no light penetrating a layer of thick clouds above. Then the train started to slow down. We're coming to a stop. Maya said as she peaked out through the window,

the tracks end here. Before long the train stood still, and all the doors opened automatically, signaling for us to get off. There was a sign on the empty platform next to us, written in a language I couldn't comprehend. I pulled out my crumbled-up ticket and compared the text, noticing that some of it matched.

Gehena, I mumbled. So, what now? We get off the train and one. under the wasteland, sit here with the last of our supplies, waiting for hunger to kill us, Frank asked. We never got the chance to make a decision before the train simply started disintegrating under our feet. First the windows turned to sand, then the seats rotted away as if hit with a thousand years of

time, and finally the door started to crack, causing us to plummet into the ground. I groaned in pain as I landed, severely twisting my ankle. while the others landed slightly more elegantly. Meyer and Frank helped me to my feet, as we witnessed the last chunks of train just vanish before our eyes. We climbed off the tracks and onto the platform. It was situated on a bridge, giving us a clear view of our surroundings. It was a city, or at least it used to be one,

now nothing more than the ruins of a previously inhabited place. Tall cliffs stood around the city, too steep to be climbed, too massive to allow for it. for much light. We were in the shadows, clueless and lost. I looked around at the worn-down buildings, desperately searching for any kind of life, but there was none to be found. Without any other options, we headed down to the streets and started searching for a way out. The houses were mostly empty, too broken to set foot in without risking total collapse, thought only with crumbled papers written in a language none of us could understand.

Where they'd had furniture, it was crudely constructed from debris of metal and what could only be bone fragments, but whoever built any of it was nowhere to be seen. How much food and water do we have left? Frank asked. Enough for maybe a day, Maya responded. He sighed in response, and we kept walking. I limped behind the other two on my twisted ankle, until we eventually reached a large, open square, surrounded with what looked like temples. Unlike the surrounding city,

they were beautifully built in stark contrast to their surroundings. In the middle of the square sat an emaciated figure, a man with white, thin hair and protruding prominent ribs from his starved body. He didn't seem to notice us as we quickly approached him to see if he needed help. But even as we spoke to him, he just sat there, rocking back and forth

as he mumbled over and over again in a hoarse, sickly voice. I just want to die. Why won't you let me die? I just want to die. Why not? Why? Why?

Maya bent down in front of him and tried to catch his attention. His eyes had turned white from cataract, rendering him completely blind. And chunks of flesh were missing from his chest and abdomen, visibly infected and smelling like rocks. She reached out and checked his pulse. quickly retracting her hand. He's dead. Why do you mean, dead? He's clearly living, talking everything, Frank said.

Look at him. No one could have survived these wounds. He doesn't have a freaking pulse, she said. Of course, she was right. The man should have been dead. Yet there he was, crying in agony, begging for a death that never came. Suffering.

blind and deaf without anything to connect him to the world he lived in. What do we do? I asked. I think... I think maybe we just finish him off. Frank said, meekly. We can't. He's... My stop mid-sentence. Realising for once, Frank was right.

I'm sorry. I think I've got to agree with Frank on this. He wants to die. The least we can do is to free him. I said as kindly as I could. Frank pulled John's knife out from the backpack and looked at us with the go-ahead. I nodded in return.

You guys better look away, Frank said. He bent down behind the suffering man and whispered that he was sorry before quickly slidding his throat. To all of our surprises, not a drop of blood poured out from the newly formed wound. Instead, the man just fell to the ground, and gargled incomprehensibly.

A whole minute passed, and then another, yet the man refused to die. The city wouldn't let him, and rather than freeing him, we'd just put him into a whole other level of misery, taking away his voice and ability to beg for death. I didn't... Frank stuttered as he realised what he'd done.

With that, as if a veil had been lifted from our blind eyes, we finally saw the empty city for what it truly was. Rather than the desolate ruins we'd met as we entered it, we saw a fully populated city, filled to the brim with suffering inhabitants, each mutilated in various degrees. Most of them were blind, with their eyes either ripped out or turned to coal.

Those unfortunate enough to see had their limbs removed or their organs torn out onto the street, unable to do anything to any, end their miserable existence. As this horrific realization hit us, the ground below us started to move. The city had finally noticed our unwelcome presence, and it reacted violently by pulling itself apart, creating a gaping chasm in the middle of the square that swallowed anyone unlucky enough to be in the way.

What's happening? Frank asked in panic. I don't know, but let's get out of here, I yelled in response. The chasm quickly widened, revealing a massive hole extending down into a dark abyss, with spikes and black tendrils extending from the burning walls beneath us. With my sprained ankle, I couldn't keep up with the others, and I slipped to the ground as it shook violently. Thomas! Maya yelled as she rushed to my aid, Frank continuing to flee towards the alleys.

She pulled me up just in time to avoid being swallowed by the ground. We headed after Frank, who started running down one of the alleys, seemingly devoid of any people. As he entered the alley, the concrete walls started moving vigorously. Frank, wait, I yelled, but he didn't hear me. By the time he'd noticed the walls, it was already too late, and hundreds of spikes shot out from them, morphing out from the concrete buildings. Frank dodged the first one as he tried to retreat back towards us, and for a moment it seemed he was in the clear,

before one final spike emerged and penetrated straight through Frank's abdomen. With the mortal wound, the wall fell silent. Frank collapsed to the ground, holding onto his guts, unable to scream from the intense pain. Frank! we yelled simultaneously as we rushed to his mangled body. He lay there in shock, his eyes darting frantically back and forth between us. too wounded to move. He didn't even realize the severity of his injury. Maya tried her best to stop the bleeding by applying pressure, but it hardly slowed down the

incessant flow of crimson blood. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'll be all right. Frank kept repeating in panic, getting quieter with each iteration. He quickly bled out. Too fast to accept his ultimate demise, and all we could do was sit over him as he let him. He let him. He was he there a final breath and finally fell. Silent. The ground started moving again, not to attach us, but to swallow Frank, to fuse his limp body with the concrete beneath him.

Within seconds, he'd vanished, and become one with the city of Gehena. Before we could get the chance to catch our breaths, the wall started moving once again. With my injured leg, I knew I stood no chance of escape, but Maya didn't have to die with me. Maya, get out of here, I yelled as spikes formed around us, reaching out to destroy our vulnerable bodies.

Then, out of nowhere, a dark rumble sounded alongside a bright light, and the ground came to a standstill. An old man emerged from up the valley, wearing a worn out that perfectly tailored suit and a cane in his left hand. The sound shook us, and I grabbed my ear futilely trying to block it out, but it barely helps. What the hell are you kids doing here? The man said, as both Maya and I passed out.

I slowly open my eyes, momentarily forgetting that I'd literally spent the last couple of weeks in hell. The old man that had saved us, stood by the window, staring out at the empty streets, mumbling in a language I couldn't understand. Good morning, he said. said, without even turning, somehow noticing my awakening. With a throat like sandpaper, I couldn't even respond. I looked around the room with my tired eyes, quickly realizing that Maya was missing. Maya, where is she? I forced out, barely a whisper. Oh, don't worry about her, Thomas. She's resting in the chamber as the infection fades,

he said, matter of fatally. I pushed myself up into a sitting position. noticing a glass filled with a murky brown liquid on the bedside table. Infection, I asked as I inspected the glass. Ah, it's the closest translation I could come up with. Everyone touched by the void slowly starts to drain, their souls wearing out as they merge with this place. He turned and limped towards me, revealing a mangled leg kept up by his cane,

made from bone in a bright green crystal, exactly like the ones from the fields we had passed. Well, everyone except for you, Thomas, he said. What does that even mean? I asked. Before the man could answer, a loud, brief scream could be heard from one of the other rooms, one sealed by a heavy metal door, similar to the one on the locomotive. What was that? Without an answer, he limped over and touched the door with his cane.

It morphed into an opening which he wore. walk through, and then it promptly closed itself off. A few minutes passed, I got back on my feet, stumbling over to the door, unable to open it. I pushed my ear against it in an attempt to listen to the other side, but as soon as I touched it, the hole returned, and the man walked through it, shortly followed by a drowsy mind. Tom! she exclaimed in joy as she embraced me in a tight hug. The three of her sat down around a table made from concrete. and both.

Ah, you must have a lot of questions. Though we're short on time, I'll answer as much as I can, he said. Myra and I looked at each other, both wondering where to start. Who are you? I asked. That's a tough one, he said as he scratch his head. I'm what you could call a guardian. My job is to keep this place locked down, preventing any unfortunate source of accidentally slipping through the dimensions and ending up for the

rest of eternity here. Before that, before my time. I don't know who or what I was. I believe I used to be human, but it's been so long that any memory before this place has long since being wiped out. He paused and looked at the untouched glass on the bedside table. Drink it, he said, as he looked at me. Without questioning him, I drank the liquid out of some strange compulsion. It tasted like piss, but it immediately revitalized me as if I'd return back home and recovered from the ordeals in hell. How did we get here, then? Maya asked. The man looked at the floor with a shameful expression on his face. It's my fault. For millennia, I've kept this place safe, but even I've aged and

eventually I'll perish like all things should. And the people that are already here, like the one we... Maya trailed off. They came during the time between the last guardian and myself, when there was nothing here to keep the gates between our walls closed. Those who met an untimely death or narrowly avoided it were unable to process or accept it, and they all came here. I tried to help the ones that were already trapped, but they were too far gone. Not like you two. Not like us? No, you two still have a chance to escape, but we'll have to move quickly.

With that the man shot out of his seat and started gathering a bunch of papers filled to the brim with drawings and hardly intelligible text in a strange language deck these he said as he put the bag of papers in my hand we left the house and carefully ventured into the dark streets with the sky so riddled with thick clouds

that even if a sun existed it couldn't possibly brighten up the ruins of Gehena the street was mostly empty just a few suffering lost soul wandering, curious as to our sudden presence. Though they started to follow us, they kept to safe distance. Don't pay them any attention. They won't bother us until we get closer to the light, the man said. He guided our way through the twisting and turning streets, eventually giving way to a vast, barren field riddled with the mutilated bodies of the lost souls. Without hesitating,

the man started walking into the piles of dead, fast as well as the world. Fastest, the man started walking into the piles of dead, faster than both of us, despite his mangled leg. Ahead of us, miles and miles into the distance, lay massive cliffs stretching straight up into the sky, obscured at the top by the storm clouds. Then, as we touched the cold ground with our feet, a dim light appeared by the base of the cliffs, shooting through the air. What's that? I asked. That's your way out.

It's a cave that serves as a doorway between our worlds. I've tried to close it, but I'm too weak. Now it will at least serve some purpose. As we passed the dead, some of them awoke, albeit too weak to rise. They stared us down, shrieking unintelligible words of agony. The guardian tapped the ground with his cane, the crystal facing down, and the dead fell silent once more. He fell to his knee as he lifted the cane,

unable to support himself without its help. What happened to your leg? I finally worked up the courage to ask. Oh, it's a recent injury, caused by the sentinels, as you call them. They're usually confined to their void, but kept to obey by my mere presence in this world. But recently they've been getting braver. I guess they know my time is up.

What will happen without you? Maya asked. The sentinels will take over. Gahena, rule it as they used to millennia ago, and the gates will open, allowing any unfortunate soul to fall through the gaps of reality. Well, unless... Unless someone takes your place, I asked. He nodded. I looked over at Maya, who had finally realized the same as myself. One of us had to stay behind and become the next guardian. Tom, Maya said as she looked at me with pleading eyes.

I turned to water, but before I could respond, the ground below us started moving. I looked down to see that the barren fields had given way to an infinite pile of corpses, all rapidly waking up due to our presence. Some just starting to scream, while others were aware enough to grab for us. The Guardian pointed his cane at them again, and while some fell silent, he wasn't strong enough to keep them all at bay. "'Oh, something's wrong,' he said quietly. "'It was no way we could reach the cave with the lost soul's awakening,

"'and the guardian knew it. "'Without a word, he slammed the cane to the ground, "'falling down with it, and an impossibly strong light penetrated the air, "'instantly silencing the dead. "'As he saved our lives, his skin started to crack and burn, "'with the vast amounts of energy surging through him. "'Run for the cave! The man demanded as he collapsed to the ground, rapidly falling apart.

We rushed to help him, but he was surrounded by an invisible barrier, making it impossible for us to reach him. No, leave me, he groaned. We looked at him in despair as the light started to fade, and the dead started to awaken once more. He'd bought us a few minutes, but time was quickly running out. Do as I say, and run. I grabbed Meyer and pulled her with me, and we spurted with the cave only a few hundred feet away.

The movement of thousands, if not millions of lost souls, moved the ground enough to cause cracks that shot towards the cave, ripping rocks from the wall. The cave started collapsing, and we dove through just in time to avoid being smashed to pieces by the falling rocks, one hitting Meyer on her shoulder, tearing through her flesh. Are you all right? I asked, as I helped her to her feet. Yeah, the wound isn't too deep. I'll be fine. We turned towards the light that filled the cave.

It was a frame of glowing fog surrounding a pitch black portal, hanging a few feet above the ground. That's it? I asked. I guess so. It doesn't exactly look inviting, but there's nothing else around. Even the ground within the cave was riddled with the bodies of the dead, and with each second we spent there, they started to awaken. We have to hurry, Maya. You go first, I said as I walked closer to the portal. She didn't follow.

She just stood back and stared at the swirling darkness hanging in front of us. I'm not going with you, she said quietly. What? You heard him, Tom. This place needs a guardian. If we both leave, millions will suffer. I just can't do it. I was far too good a person, unwilling to consider her own well-being over that of others,

and I knew in my heart that nothing I could say would change her mind. She walked up to hug me, a final goodbye before we parted ways for the rest of eternity. I held her tight as I whispered into her ear. I'm sorry. Sorry about... Without letting her finish the sentence, I grabbed onto her, swung around, and shoved her into the portal. The second she realized what was happening, it was already too late,

and her body was washed away in the darkness, giving me a final look of sadness before she vanished. Gehena needed a guardian, and Maya wouldn't have let me stay behind. So, without any other choice, knowing that she had a much brighter future back on Earth than myself, I made the decision for her. one moment of betrayal, to give her a chance at a good life, even if it meant myself staying behind for the rest of time, it would be worth it. After Maya vanished, I felt at peace. Something within me knew she'd made it home, and with that I gained a whole new awareness of the place I would call home. The papers given to me by the old man, once filled with an incomprehensible

language, suddenly turned into instructions for me to follow, and that's when I knew the place had chosen me long before I'd even entered, Gahena. I was supposed to stay behind. All my job now will be to close every gap between this world and earth, meaning that, after this message, no one will ever hear from me again. Tell my family I never suffered, and Maya, if you ever read this, I'm sorry. and I hope you live a great life. Every single passenger on this train is going to die.

I can see the future. Well, kind of. That is to say, I can only see the future if it involves me being killed in a spectacularly excruciating manner. Now I didn't want this power. Certainly didn't ask for it yet. It was thrust upon me without my consent as I was literally thrown in at the deep end

and left a fend for myself for what has surely turned out to be the world's most terrifying train journey, where each carriage seems to have its own unique hell designed to torment us. But I think, getting a little ahead of myself, let me take you back to when this nightmare first began. I woke up with a start, my body drenched in sweat, yet freezing and shivering at the same time. Abnoxiously loud music from my phone blared right into my ears, making me wince even as my eyes rapidly fluttered to clear my hazy vision. Muffle grumbling rose up from the passengers around me as I fumbled with my phone,

whose harsh glare ripped through the dark, burning my bleary and crusted eyes. My thumb slid over the slippery screen, finally shutting off the offending noise. Man, fuck telemarketers who call at 12.01 a.m. My bladder seemed like it was going to explode and shower my innards with Yuri. and so I swung my legs around and jumped down, winting at the strange crick in my neck. The train lurched as I landed, almost throwing me off balance and sending me careening into the old woman curled up on the bottom berth, but I put my hands on the seat above her and held on. Gingerly, I turned my head and looked out the tinted windows,

to spot tiny balls of light bobbing away in the vast sea of inky darkness as the train rumbled and tore through the sparsely populated countryside. Just how fast was this going? Can it really reach speeds this high? I tied my hair up into a ponytail, slipped my feet into my shoes, and without bothering to tie the laces, began shuffling towards the toilet. Curtains drawn, light switched off. Almost everyone was slumbering at this point in time. Well, almost everybody. Someone else was awake at this ungodly hour, rummaging through his luggage near the door on the other end. I ducked his feet jutted out from a berth above me and almost smacked me in the face and continued walking towards the door that opened up to the space where the toilet was located.

My hand was on the handle of the door when I noticed it. A squishing sound that rose up from my shoes as my feet felt like they were being forcibly pulled down. I bowed my head and stared at the floor. From the tiny gap between the door and the PVC flooring, a bubbling tar-like liquid was leaking out towards me. What the fuck? I pulled my shoe up and the liquid stretched and stuck to it like chewing gum, forming spindly little stalactites and stalagmites that joined at near imperceptible points.

I put my foot down, squelching the liquid with a horrible sound and prepared to swing the door open when even more of the liquid rushed out, painting my shoes with a thick coat of the darkest black I had ever seen. What in the world was happening here? I didn't get the time to contemplate on the weirdness of it all as the slow and steady stream of the liquid turned into a fiery jet, like water from a fireman's hose, crashing into my shins, making me scream,

but more from a searing pain than the shock. The thing was hot and it felt like my legs had been sprayed by a flamethrower. I stumbled backwards and almost immediately a high-pitched screech exploded from the back of the coach like a gunshot and ripped through the narrow hallway. The man I'd just seen was now slathered with the black liquid, yelling and writhing on the floor, but only making things worse for himself in the process as his skin boiled and peeled off, leaving behind angry-looking red splotches which were quickly gobbled up by the black liquid. I would have thrown up if my body wasn't too terrified to do so.

Curious heads popped out through narrow slits between drawn curing. to investigate the commotion, while I cried and gritted my teeth to block out the mind-numbing pain and scrambled to my feet to get away from this thing. What's happening here? Look, he's hurt. Someone help him. What is that thing? Is that oil? It's hot. Get away from it. The liquid was starting to lash other people now,

and the cacophony of screams which erupted forced others to wake up. I was about halfway back to my seat when a loud rumbling emerged from the rattling door, drowning out the anguish-filled yelling of the victims of the liquid. The door groaned and gave way, flying into the air and crashing onto the floor with a loud clang as the liquid gushed in, flooding the compartment, reaching up to my knees in height. Sweat rushed out of every pore in my body, and my knees trembled, threatening to give out and send me tumbling to the floor as the liquid scorched my flesh,

causing my synapsies to fire like crazy, pretty much short-circuiting my brain. The liquid reached up to my waist now, melting my jeans and fusing the fabric with my sizzling flesh, making my legs wobble like melted jelly. What's happening? Someone pull the chain. Stop the train. It's not working. Fuck. I needed to get to higher ground or else I was going to melt and get swept away by this fluid.

It seemed like others had the same idea as the chaos in the compartment seemed to be aimed at getting to the top berths. With my hands quivering, I turned to my right and pump my weakening muscles to weigh through this bizarrely sticky liquid to climb onto a top berth when I noticed something from the corner of my eye.

Some people were trying to help the man who was splashed with the liquid right after me. To my horror, black, tendril-like projections so the liquid shot out of the same. surface of its ever-expanding pool, reaching the roof of the carriage before zooming towards the struggling group and wrapping around them like fiery boa constrictors. My mouth dropped open as I watched the hapless group get jerked under the pool of the liquid

one by one, with loud splashes by things that bore a shocking resemblance to sentience. What the fuck? And then it got worse, as my ears were assaulted by the nauseating, sound of metallic screeching and blades whirring and slicing through flesh. A faint dash of red struggled against the overwhelming blackness of the liquid before being consumed by it as the group was cut to pieces with surgeon-like precision. A solitary head flew into the air, squishing against the roof and leaving a small trail of blood before plopping back into the liquid.

Its wide, lifeless eyes rattling my soul. The screaming of the people trapped here in this compartment. somehow found a way to increase in volume. One woman, overwhelmed with pain, collapsed onto the floor, her body sizzling and melting right before my eyes. I shook my head, move, move, move. With a herculean effort,

I put my feet on the bottom seat and pushed myself up. Soon feeling arms around me as the person on the berth above tried to pull me up. My body cried out in relief as it ended its contact with the fiery liquid, but it was short-lived. The eyes of the person pulling me up widened, and before I even had the chance to think why that was, I was yanked back into the darkness, my head slamming against the bottom seat as the horrifying tendrils finally made their way towards me. My entire body was aflame. It felt like I'd been dropped into a vat of acid. I could feel my very eyelids melting under the heat of the liquid. Just where I was a flame. Just where I was a flame.

when I thought I was going to die like this, the tendrils snaked around my body, reaching my head and forcing their way into my mouth. The liquid poured in, singing my esophagus. The tendrils pulled harder and harder, and the last thing I heard before fading away was the sound of my jaw cracking into pieces. The train lurched as I landed on my feet, almost throwing me off balance and sending me careening into... Wait, what?

My heart hammered in my chest as images of my death flashed through my mind. What was that? Was that all just a dream? The horror I'd been through had felt far too real to have been just a dream, and tears rolled down my face as if to reaffirm that fact. A lump formed in my throat and expanded, making breathing itself an extraordinarily arduous task. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

just a dream just a dream oh how could it have been just a dream if I was out of bed and standing on my own two feet if it wasn't real then what in the world of these memories in my brain

only one way to find out with extreme trepidation I popped my head out and almost screamed at what I saw holy shit it was all exactly the same the same guy rummaging through his luggage, the same feet jutting out of the top berths some ten metres away.

Fuck, the sound of the liquid bubbling and streaming through the gap is what convinced me. It was going to happen again. Without wasting even a second, I climbed back to my seat faster than anything I'd ever done in my life. And then I screamed my lungs off. The person opposite me shut up straight, looking around wildly to see what was happening. It was a woman who was looking at me with disgust on her face.

Don't touch the liquid, I shouted. She looked at me like I'd grown another head. I didn't care. Everybody climbed to the top berths. Don't touch the liquid. She opened her mouth to ask me what was wrong with me, but was caught off by screaming, terrifyingly familiar screaming. That man must have been splashed by the liquid now.

The woman jumped down to check out the noise. Please, don't, I shouted. Come back. She disregarded me, but only momentarily, and came running back when she saw the liquid and what it was capable of. Her eyes wide with disbelief. The elderly couple below us needed help getting to the top. It was a race against time.

The liquid was already starting to pool beneath our seats, and the door was going to come crashing down any second. The door burst open when I was pulling the wife up, and the liquid flooded the compartment as soon as the woman helped the husband climb up to her seat, who groaned as his aged muscles stretched around his fragile bones. We sat frightened out of our minds, listening to the death throats of people caught by the liquid and the oddly metallic slashing of the tendrils. The black tar-like fluid was only inches below the top berths when it stopped rising,

and a suffocating silence descended upon the thick, compartment with the only sound being the sloshing and bubbling of the liquid everybody waited with a baited breath wondering what was going to happen next i gasped as dark tendrils leapt out of the liquid latching onto my seat and missing my leg by inches before retreating i backed up my left hand bumping against something hard right where my pillow should be it was a leather diary one that i'd never seen for in my life. Again, what the fuck? This night just keeps getting weirder and weirder. At least now I know why my neck was so damn stiff. I flipped the diary open. It was blank, same for one page. The first one, which had a crude figure of the train, with strange labels on each compartment

scribbled in the most atrocious handwriting I'd ever seen. But the thing that drew my attention more than anything else, were the words hastily scrawled on the top. Words that were full of panic, words that screamed at the reader, The train is trying to kill you. Do you want to live? Part two.

As I sat gawking at the shabbily drawn niagram of the train in the diary, wondering who made it, why they chose to leave this with me and how exactly they seemed to know what was going on. Well, the boy looked at them. The ring liquid receded, leaving behind a trail of stomach churning violence. And despite the burnt corpses, melted flesh and torn apart limbs strewn across the floor,

all the passengers collectively heaved a sigh of relief, such that it seemed the metal carriage itself had exhaled, deflating its metaphorical shoulders in relaxation. The departure of the murderous fluid ignited an explosive uproar which swept over the compartment like wildfire. sobbed at the loss of their loved ones, cried out at the sheer inexplicable nature of the horror that had visited them, shouted irrational suggestions for what should be done next, and pigged fights with each other to direct their rage at a more accessible target. But I was oblivious to all that, fixated as I was on the leather journal splayed out on my lap, scratching my head

in confusion at what seemed to be an instruction manual. The person who wrote this obviously wanted to survive whatever was happening in this train, but I was in such a hurry while writing this that I couldn't make head or tail of what the hastily scribbled words were trying to tell me. Consider this, for example. Right below the diagram of the train were these words. One step backward, two steps forward, one step forward, three steps backwards. What the hell does this mean? Was this a riddle of some sort?

God, why couldn't they just leave instructions that were slightly clearer than this? what I wouldn't give for clear-cut rules and guidelines to follow to get out of this hell. There were some things that were a bit easier to understand, though. Like the eighth compartment on the diagram was labelled, Burning Liquid reached top berth. It had a fucked-up stick figure pointing at it, announcing where we were. What are you looking at? The sudden appearance of that voice almost made me jump out of my skin.

Instinctively, clutching my chest, I turned to my right and saw it was the woman from the birth. directly opposite mine, who, while I'd been busy pouring over the contents of the diary, had helped the elderly woman down and taken her place beside me. Um, hi, I spoke weakly. Hi yourself, she replied, gently smiling, the action causing the mole on her chin to come tantalizingly close to her full lips. So, what are you looking at? Can I see it? She snatched the diary from my hands and began reading it before I could do so much as utter a

disgruntled wine. What the fuck is this? She asked, accusingly. Did you know what was going to happen here? Well, I had absolutely no clue. I mean, I did, but not because of this diary, which is not actually even mine, it just, well, happened to be on my seat.

My voice tapered off at the end. Even I understood how ridiculous that sounded. So, how else did you know about the demonic oil? she asked her brow furrowing with suspicion i um saw it i saw the future i bit my lip and muttered it half-heartedly she stared at me with an unreadable expression on her face i know it sounds unbelievable but it's true i protested i saw myself die my jaw was ripped apart by that thing that vision was the only reason i was able to save myself. She shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say. You know, normally that most people would have you locked up in an asylum for saying something that insane,

but these aren't exactly normal times, are they? And I'm certainly not most people. Who are you? I wondered out loud. Tricia. She shook my hand firmly, but in a reassuring manner. Mayor, I replied. Well, Mayor, seems like we're a very much. It seems like we're on the same side, she said, a wriggling finger pointing at the two of us. I saw how hard you tried to get everyone away from that oil, so I'm choosing to trust you, even though I'm not entirely sold on your story, particularly that part about you seeing the future. Well, that wasn't very surprising. So if you're willing to work with me, then we can start trying to crack the mystery of this thing, she continued. Oh, and fast, because that oil is going to

come back right. She pointed at the five o'clock that was scrawled in a corner and circled five times. It's a cycle that repeats every five minutes, I said, the gear's in my mind turning. Then that leaves us with less than two minutes before the liquid reappears. So, what do we do? I'll go warn the other passengers and tell them to stay on the upper berths, she answered. Meanwhile, I suggest you keep looking at that page. Try and see if you can figure anything else out. She handed me the diary and hopped down like a rabbit, leaving me alone to deal with the confusing mess of squiggly lines that was this page. I heard her shouting in the distance, and then she was back,

tapping me on the leg to help get the elderly couple up on her seat. Strange how humans can quickly adapt to a change in their environment. The reaction of the passengers to the return of the liquid was a lot more subdued this time, and not a single one of us fell prey to its heat or its demonic limbs that groped around for anyone foolish enough. to get close to it. The second attack of the liquid ended with a whimper, leaving behind a frightened but mostly safe group of people.

It's the coaches, I whispered after things had returned to relative normalcy. What? Trisha asked. The steps, it's the coaches, look, I exclaimed, pointing at the diagram of the train. They're numbered. They're the steps, have to be. What do you mean? one step backward two steps forward one step forward or three steps backward um it's talking about the compartments i replied excitedly you mean if we went to the compartment immediately to our back we ended up going two coaches forward she asked doubtfully exactly look some teleportion stuff as unbelievable as that sounds and this one here i jerked my finger at the first coach which like the five was already heavily circled with an

is pointing at it. It's our target, I think. If we want to stop whatever the fuck is going on here, we have to get there. She tapped the watch on her wrist. Then we better hurry up, right? We decided to push through the back door, as it seemed to be the safer choice. Like the stick figure in the drawing of the train pointed out, we were in the eighth compartment, that is, second to last carriage in the train. If we went forward, we could end up being thrown outside, as there really weren't three carriages behind us. So backwards it was, which would send us two coaches forward if my assumption was correct. I would have certainly questioned my sanity for going along with something this dangerous, if only I'd had time to do so,

but considering that we were on a lethal time limit, I ignored the warning bells going off within me, clutched the diary tightly, hit my right hand, and followed Trisha as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and strode towards the back of the carriage, where we found other people who had the same idea, arguing with us who believe that it would indeed be a stupidly dangerous thing to do. So the argument that I wanted to have with my conscience ended up being played out right in front of me. It's too dangerous. We don't know what's out there. Well, we can't just sit here and wait for it to happen again, can we? What if you leave and that sets off something even worse? We'll all end up dead.

"'We're going to die anyway if we don't do something to stop this.' "'Tricia passed, mumbling, "'excuse me, under her breath. "'A rotund, balding middle-aged man stepped in front of her, "'his bushy moustache, quivering with alarm. "'You!' he yelled. "'You're the one who warned us that the oil was returning. "'How did you know?'

"'She shrugged. "'Just a hunch. "'Aren't you glad that it saved your life?' "'His face reddened with rage. "'Where do you think you going?' "'Out,' she replied with a straight face. "'I'm not going to sit here waiting for my turn to die. "'Step aside.'

"'Well, he looked ready to explode when she cut him off. "'Look, that liquid is going to come back again in a couple of minutes, "'so we really don't have the time to be arguing here. "'Step aside and let us through. "'We'll let you know what we find on the other side.' "'If you think I'm just going to let you get out—' "'His eyes widened when she pointed. out a gun from her backpack and aimed it at him.

Holy shit, I whispered, as everyone around her backed away in fear. She sighed. I know this makes me look very suspicious, but that's a risk I'm willing to take at this point. You all should run up to the top berths, hunker down, and the two of us will get back to you eventually. I stared at her in shock. Come on, Mayor, let's go. She tugged my hand and dragged me outside. Where the fuck did you get that gun?

I shouted after she'd slam the door shut behind her. The rumbling and rattling of the train was much more pronounced here, outside the air-conditioned compartment. How did you get it past security? Who even are you? She sighed. Listen, Mayor. We both have our secrets. There are things you don't know about me and there are things I don't know about you.

You see, normally that would be a case for extreme suspicion between the two of us, but right now, with a situation as fucked as it is, we can both either take a blind leap of faith or sink down into the abyss. What will it be? What are you going to do? Think fast because I need you here with me. Our conversation was interrupted by a cacophony of screams and warnings behind us.

That liquid was invading our compartment once again. Yet here on the other side, there was nothing. It was as if the black tar had just magically appeared. I had beneath the door and started flooding the carriage. I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Should we wait for the liquid to disappear and get everyone out here where it seems to be safer? I asked. Depends. What does the diary say about it?

She countered. I flipped it open, my eyes rocketing towards the spindly lines connecting two carriages in the diagram. Safe spaces aren't safe. This was the label above them. I knew that because by this time I'd met. I'd memorize pretty much the entire page, but the comforting safety out here had deceived my memories. Well, that answers the question, doesn't it? I nodded.

There goes my opportunity to relieve my bladder. If things continue to proceed at this pace, I'll almost certainly wet my pants. I looked longingly at the toilet, and then shook my head. He stepped through the flimsy metal frame surrounding the coupling mechanism that connected the two train coaches. And suddenly, my hypothesis proved to be accurate. There was an intense build-up of pressure in my eardrums which released with a painful pop, making my head feel incredibly dizzy. And by the time I stumbled out near the door, I noticed that the scene was familiar,

yet noticeably different from the one I'd seen from the other end of the trembling iron bridge. This is it, isn't it? Tricia huffed, resting with her hands on her knees. Yes, I panted. we should be at the door at the front end of the sixth compartment in the train. Only one way to know for sure, she said as she swung open the door, which bumped against a hollowed-out corpse. I yelped as I saw the ghastly body with his ribcage opened up

and pock-marked intestine sprawled out around it. There were chunks of flesh missing all over the body, and a hole had been chewed out in its left cheek, revealing a gum full of missing teeth. His limbs had been similarly cut open with bones. bones and tendons exposed to the natural forces. We didn't even have enough time to process this as we instantly came face to face with a terrified and angry bunch who gathered up and looked ready to charge us with a steel

water bottle and long tiffin boxes. Back up, Trisha screamed, pointing the pistol in their direction. They obeyed, their jaws dropping at the sight of the gun. Who are you? One of the men snarled. We came from the other compartment, I replied. What happened here? I looked at each other with fear and anxiety,

clear upon their sweat-riddled faces. Tricia groaned. Our compartment was flooded with boiling oil that caught and dragged people to their deaths. They gauped at her. She continued. So can we please move on and start talking freely? They started whispering to each other,

which made her turn towards me. What does the diary say about this coach? And man. hide, I answered. Oh, really helpful, she said before raising her voice. Hey, how long ago did it happen? What? The man who addressed us asked.

Whatever happened that led to this? She pointed at the corpse at her feet. How long ago was it? Almost five minutes, he replied. Oh, fuck, she swore. Let's go, Mayor. We're running through. She pushed past them, ignoring their outrage grumbling, and dashed down the length of the carriage.

With me hot on her heels, the both of us shouting warnings that there was going to be a repeat of the hell they'd just been through, a hell that we weren't even aware of. Running down the carriage, caught glimpses of eaten out corpses, and curtains stained with blood. We were about halfway down when we noticed that the compartment was starting to get a little darker. then screams erupted from everywhere around us. I slowed down and looked up at the light fixtures, with my heart almost leaping out of my mouth at the terrifying and disgusting sight. A dark shadow had passed over them.

A mobile clouded the colour of blackest onyx that steadily spread its malignant influence, plunging the compartment in ever-deepening darkness. And... Thousands and thousands of the... little insects had exploded out of the little gaps in the metallic structure of the carriage and were now swarming the place. Some of them, no, a lot of them, fell down from the roof and slipped into my clothes, sending shivers down my spine as they skittered all over my back. I gasped in pain as they bit down, sending red-hot pain flooding through my system. But why did it hurt so much?

Well, I soon found out as one of them landed on my hand and sunk its little mandibles into my index finger, the wound instantly bulging out as it filled with pus and throbbed like a fucked-up little heart. The blinding agony made me lose control of my senses, and I pierced my pants. What kind of ants were these? I winced at the pain, and the action made me look at my surroundings. The ants were everywhere, rushing out of every little orifice in the train, biting their merry way into any human they could grab onto. covered in wounds Trisha and I waddle over to the other end

and pulled the door open only to come face to face with a monstrosity that defied all laws of reality It was a humanoid ant So large its antennae scraped the roof As it walked on its thin, hairy legs It had a face that was

astonishingly human Stretching and struggling to fight Against the ant-like features That threatened to overwhelm it It brought its sharp clawed hand up, its thorax rippling with emotion and sliced through Trisha, cleanly cutting her into two halves, causing her organs to slip out and fall to the floor with a nauseating, squishing sound, or before she even had the chance to fire at it. And then it screeched, making my ears bleed,

and began stalking me. My knees shook wildly and gave out, sending me crashing to the floor. The last thing I saw was the ant-man, grinny. Its human-like teeth glistening menacingly before it stabbed me in the throat. She swore, let's go, Mayor, we're running through. My breath caught in my throat, as I was once again slammed back into the past after experiencing the future in a nightmarish vision. I put my hand on Trish's shoulder, my grip vice-like in strength. No, I stated emphatically, we'll never make it.

Did you have another vision? I barbed my head Ant man Hide Oh damn We should have erred on the side of caution And deferred to the diary Trisha understood

And instead of barreling through We decided to hide We warned the others That the ant man was coming again And to our surprise They believed us straight away I guess some people do make smart decisions In the face of impending doom

We bolted to our left drew the curtains and sat next to people who looked at us with curiosity and fear. It didn't take long for the ants to arrive, scurrying out of whatever little interdimensional holes they were hiding in and overwhelming every surface in the compartment. They began to bite every single sting as painful as I'd remembered from the vision, but other than a whimper here and there, we mostly stayed quiet. We couldn't say the same for the others in this compartment. Maybe they didn't understand the importance of silence.

Maybe the pain was too much to bear, or maybe the fear overpower their faculties, but a lot of them screamed, and the ants zoomed in on that noise, devouring the coppers and leaving behind empty husks like the one we saw near the door. Then came the ant man, its powerful legs scratching and pounding the floor. The screams would every now and then be interspersed with the powerful slashes of the hulking beast as it sliced its victims to clean pieces, like an experienced butcher. We sat frozen in fear, the pain from the bites on our bodies all but forgotten as it clocked past us, its giant shadow crawling beneath the curtains and caressing our feet.

Every second felt like an eternity, but even that never-ending time passed, and the monstrous critters vanished as fast as they come, leaving behind little evidence of their existence except broken bodies and destroyed lives. Trisha and I hobbled out of the carriage before people could finish processing their grief and begin peppering us with questions, but not before telling them that the key to surviving this was to shut up and hide. Tricia groaned, gently caressing at Possible Phil Blister on her face. Just how many of these compartments will we have to clear before we end this?

I didn't even want to think about that. Part three. Our encounter with the ant-man had shaken Tricia far more than I'd initially realized. Faced with her own mortality, the facade of arrogant self-confidence she'd so carefully built up around herself had cracked, turning her white as a sheet. She leaned back against the door at the back end of the sixth compartment, and took a second to get her bearings even as the wounds inflicted on her by the tiny ants continued to throb disgustingly. Did I really die? She asked, her voice trembling with fear and disbelief. I nodded nervously. The last thing I needed was for her to lose faith in herself

and get us killed out here. She shook her head slowly. It's because I'm not prepared, because I don't have proper supplies with me. I'm not normally this sloppy, trust me. I was about to voice my support for her when I noticed something on her forehead, a wound or a scar that pressed from beneath her skin and threatened to burst out and spread across her head. But then it was gone in a flash. Trigger the light maybe. She breathed an action full of renewed resolve. Let's go. I don't want to find out what the diary meant with safe space is not being safe. Maybe we should slow down a little, I said as I tried to keep up with her. The bite marks on my own body left by those loathsome ants affecting my usual deep speed in a not insignificant way.

No, it'll be fine, she countered. Wait, I yelled. pulling her arm to stop her. We're not going to rush this. We'll end up getting us killed. Well, you can always see the future and stop this from happening, can't you? She asked sardonically. No, I don't enjoy being killed over and over again, I exclaimed. Tough shit, she shouted.

Get over it. Every second we waste, more people get killed by whatever's causing this. We need to move. Now. What exactly will happen if we're the ones who end up dead? I screamed back. With my vision, we at least have a fighting chance, but it'll all be for nothing if we die. Well, what do you want?

No more bum-rush in this, I replied. No more taking decisions without me, and we always do what the diary tells us to do. She looked at me, I mean, really looked at me, like she was acknowledging me for the first time. All right, mayor, we'll do it your way. So what does your precious diary say about compartment number four? I rolled my eyes. It's not mine. You should know that by now, and let me check.

My eyes scan the page. Wow. Wow, what? Touch wood. Get fucked. Whoever wrote this as a terrible sense of humour. Getting to the front door of the fourth compartment was as nauseated and inexperiment. as the first time we'd jump through space.

But recovery was much quicker this time and we were ready to encounter the coach after less than half a minute. Touch wood, get fucked. Tricia whispered like it was a mantra. Let's see what this means. She pushed the door open again and we entered a forest. There's really no other way to put it.

Thick trunks of rootless trees of varying shades of brown had pierced the solid metal frame the train and wound their way through the entire length of the carriage, turning the place into an intricate, nigh, unnavigable maize of wood that sprouted innumerable branches that merrily stabbed their way through padded seats, suitcases, and even unsuspecting humans, whose blood only served to feed the demon tree, as on the wood close to every corpse, loomed a giant crimson red flower that twitched ever so slightly, like someone moaning after a scrumptious meal. Leaves, some fresh and young like flattened emeralds. Some wilted and aged like dry cow dung, desperately clung to the tree as they

fluttered in the dusty wind that came gushing in through the myriad holes in the train, which continued to traverse the arid countryside at an impossibly high speed. This can't be real, I mumbled under my trembling breath. You're right, Tricia replied just as softly. I don't think the diary was being literal. So, what do we do? I asked. wait for the clock to run out? Let's find out how much sand's left in the hourglass first. She replied before shouting, hey, anyone's still alive? The only reply we got was a thick log of wood which shot across the compartment like a bullet, right in front of her face before embedding itself above the glass window. Long greenish vines quickly followed,

tying themselves to the piece of wood before expanding and becoming a generic part of the sentient tree. I clamped my mouth with my hand and preemptively muffled the involuntary scream that threatened to rip from my throat. I guess we'll just have to wait this one out. Tricia muttered nervously. Safe spaces aren't safe. And that was when we found the terrifying truth of that statement.

A bone rattling raw boom from somewhere behind us, rooting me to the spot and causing cold sweat to gush down my forehead and into my eyes. A world around saw a fucking bear standing on the metal platform above the coupling connecting the two trembling train coaches. He was big, much bigger than any bear I'd ever seen, with bloodshot eyes and thick fur matted with gore. The train groaned and shifted as it took a step in our direction. Oh, fuck. Tricia swore as she pulled her pistol up and fired at the bear, who just shook off the bullets like it meant nothing to him. Oh, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, I thought, my heart quickly sinking into the said metaphorical ocean.

Is this it? Is this how we die? Even a vision can't save us from this. Wait. A light bulb went off in my head. It's warmth flooding me with energy. Let's go in, I said excitedly. I have an idea. What?

Tricia screamed as she popped off the floor. last couple of shots in her magazine, which she promptly, and with extreme fluidity, changed in a flash. Meanwhile, I tore out a page from the back of the diary, crumped it up into a ball and tossed it at the monstrous tree somewhere to the left. As soon as the wood attacked it, with a sharp crack, I took a step in, avoiding touching the tree with utmost caution. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for the attack, which never came. Yes. It worked. It worked. I didn't know whether it could only attack one target at a time or whether it just can't sense too stimuli closely spaced together, but considering that our lives are on the line, I assume the latter. After quickly telling Trisha about my plan, we began moving in, one carefully placed step at a time, leaving the bear snarling at us right at the doorstep, and tearing page after page from the diary to distract the monstrous trees we moved deeper into the compartment.

A progress was slow And it almost took us half an hour To get to the midpoint My visions helped us a lot Every misplaced step Every stumble resulting in a painful death That although we avoided Ended up leaving a scar in my memory

I'm sure it'd take a lifetime of therapy To get over all this trauma But living long enough to deal with that pain Would be a blessing in itself This is exactly like that scene from Ocean's 12 You know Tricia remarked her body contorted in to odd angles at my instruction to avoid hitting the wood. I grinned, thoroughly enjoying the

first moment of levity since this started. As we reached the end of the compartment, I realised we hadn't come across a single survivor in this carriage. Everyone here had been murdered by the sentient tree, with beautiful and yet vile crimson flowers blooming on every single seat in the coach. This is how it's going to be from here on. Well, the monstrous traps waiting for for us going to get worse the closer we get to our destination. I hope not because the next one we'd be hitting was compartment number two. So, what horror awaits us next? Tricia asked as she stretched her tired muscles

after we'd exited the forest in compartment number four. It's not real, I replied. Great, hallucinations just what we need. She said running her fingers through her luscious hair. We'll have to double back to her. to five, when we get to two, right? I nodded. Yes.

One step forward, three steps backward. One step backward, two steps forward. When we get to two, we move to five, then three, and finally one. What happens after that? How exactly were we going to stop whatever had started this?

I didn't want to imagine just how powerful the creator of all this must be. We left the area before that damn bear could come, arriving at the window door to compartment two. So we just have to walk back to get to five, don't we? Trisha asked. Doesn't that mean we won't even have to enter two? That's how it should work, yes, I replied.

If we walk from two to one, that is, to one step forward, we should arrive back at five. So that's what we did, only to hit a wall, a literal wall, or be it an invisible one that halted our progress. Looks like we'll have to enter two And then exit out the same door To actually trigger the transportation I guessed We double back to the door to compartment two

And try to peer through its window But we couldn't because the area beyond Was completely shrouded in darkness I took my phone out Switched on its flashlight and swung the door open The light feebly pushed back against the dark But couldn't even make a slight dent In the overwhelming blackness of the coach

I sighed and took a step forward, only to find myself in my childhood dining room, where my mother was sitting with a smile on her face and had my favourite meal, Amritzari cultures, displayed invitingly on the table as bright sunlight stream through the windows, making my mother's beautiful face glow with a golden hue. Hey, ma'am, she said, her voice as musical as I remembered. How are you, baby? not real not real

not real aren't you hungry she asked her brown eyes twinkling food's gonna get cold you know she's dead she's dead

she's dead I tried to tell myself to run away that this won't end well but my feet seem to move of their own accord and soon I was digging into the food without a care in the world

how could it not be real I can smell the food taste its spice on my tongue feel the sun stinging my skin. How is this not real? And even if it isn't real, is it all that bad? Why couldn't I just stay here? Why is the outside with its unrelenting demonic horrors any better or any more real than this?

Your dad's coming home, mum said, shattering my heart with that statement. No, no, don't go there. He really wants to talk to you, she added. He does? I asked. Really? No, no, he doesn't. He can't.

Because he's dead too, remember? Even after what happened, I asked weakly. My voice raspy, on the edge of breaking down. Honey? Mum put a hand on top of mine. Of course he does. You don't really blame yourself for what happened, do you? I looked away guiltily, because you should.

my eyes shut up watering with hurt at what she just uttered excuse me i croaked you should because it's all your fault isn't it the saccharine tone of her voice made that sound even more fucked up i watched stunned out of my wits as she casually brought a stainless steel fork up and stabbed me in her hand with it nailing it to the wooden table which began to stain with my blood i let out a piercing screech as agony rushed up my nerves. It's all your fault, you die, cunt, she thundered. Her voice morphing, layers both high and low-pitched, settling on it, making it sound disjointed, inhuman and demonic. You remember what happened, don't you? Mom, please, I pleaded.

That night you came out, announced how fucked in the head you were, how it broke your loving father's heart, how we drank that night, how we crashed a car. her face began to warp as her teeth fell out eyes sank into the skull and cheeks puffed up as her hair began to wobble from her skull you killed us you bitch she twisted the fork making my eyes water with the pain no no no but you didn't die did you i torture continued as my mom's face snapped and popped as it transformed into that of my father as i'd seen him moments before he cremation. You survived like the abomination you are. You should have died that day. I started to viciously tear my hair out of my skull as my tormentor hurled insults at me, each and every word measured and sharpened, tailored to carve a piece out of my soul. Stop, stop, I begged, but the relentless verbal assault continued unabated. I don't know how long I suffered through that torture, but I'm pretty sure I was on the brink of losing my sanity when Trisha invaded my personal hell,

shot the thing pretended to be my parents in the face, and dragged me out of compartment number two. It was down on my knees, sobbing uncontrollably, having lost all sense of time, and hell had even forgotten who I was, where I was stuck and what I should have been doing, when Trisha slapped me across the face, hard. I can't tell you that wasn't real, she said, holding my head in a hand, hands and staring into my eyes. Because you know it wasn't, but that doesn't make it any less real, does it? We know that your family would never say that shit to you, but their voices still echo inside your head right. But, Maya, we can't dwell on that, understand. Not now. Please,

help me end this. Help me stop whoever's doing this, okay? I wipe my eyes and nodded vigorously. She smiled. Good girl. Now, come on. There's still two more compartments to go till we reach the end of our journey. Part four. My parents' voice is still reverberated inside my skull as we stood outside the door to compartment five,

ready to confront whatever fresh hell the train had in store for us there. The horrors we'd just witnessed had taken its toll on Trisha too, if her ashen face and trembling hands were any indication. But I could see she was putting on a... brave front and so I felt obligated to do the same. I agreed with her. First we needed to find a way to put an end to this nightmare. Then we can take all the time in the world to ponder on our experiences here. Mosh pit, I said as Trisha glanced at me. She nodded and opened the door. As expected, there was pandemonium in the carriage, but a quick scan with my eyes showed no signs of the supernatural.

Maybe we'd arrived during the cool-down period. The chaos here consisted of the passengers squaring off against each other, their angry voices rising up to a deafening din. Some of them were shoving each other. Some had been tied up in their seats, and they all pretty much ignored our presence. A surprising first for us in this journey. What in the world is happening here? Tricia wondered out loud.

She ducked sideways and caught hold of a frightened-looking teenage girl, asking her the same thing. You don't know? she stammered. Tricia shrugged. We're not from this compartment. The girl's mouth dropped in shock at this. Really?

What's happening over there? Is everything normal outside? Did you guys try to stop the train by pulling the chain? We tried, but it's not working for us. Hey, hey, Tricia interrupted. Look, slow down, okay. Start by telling us what happened here. It keeps repeating over and over again,

and it just started out of nowhere. She replied, her lips. quivering. One second we're all sitting playing cards. Next, everyone just... She was cut off by a siren so loud its vibrations rattled the windows. What the... I held on to the seat close to me to steady myself before turning to look at the girl. How long ago did it happen last? The only reply she gave me was a hateful snarl, before launching at me, wrapping her bony hands around my throat and sending us both crashing down to the floor. The sudden attack knocked the wind out of my lungs, making it harder for me to fight her off.

But Trisha was on her in an instant, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her off me. The girl responded by shrieking and raking her crusted fingernails across Trisha's wrists. I lumbered up onto my feet, gasping and coughing as air rushed into my lungs, causing my chest to expand, sending waves of pleasure through my body. But I didn't get a chance to enjoy this as someone else slammed into my lungs. to my side, causing my head to bump sickeningly against the metal railing set up to help people climb to the top bunk. The man who jumped on me began to rain blows down upon my face, and the puss-filled blister left on my cheek courtesy of the ants burst, and my tongue was subsequently coated with a gag-inducing liquid. I put my hands up to protect myself, so he

started punching my sides, and I'm pretty sure he must have cracked a couple of ribs before Trisha knocked him out with a carefully placed kick to the point where he's jaw connected to his skull. Get up, she screamed as she fought off more attackers. We need to move. Now! Taking the support of the seat, I pull myself up, fighting off the dizziness that threatened to slam me into unconsciousness.

Scenes of senseless violence played out in the carriage as every passenger went freaking berserk and began attacking anyone close to them. I saw a prepubescent kid stabbing an old man's eyes with his fingernails. I saw her mother bash her infant's head against the window, splattering the glass with blood and sticky bits of grey matter. Near the door we wanted to exit through was a man sitting on top of another man, stabbing him repeatedly with a jagged shard of glass. Trisha swung into action, easily and quickly beating down anyone who stepped up to her.

It was stunning to watch a trained fighter use their skills. It was quite unlike the movies. There were no wasted motions, no ostens. stentatious moves just precise clinical strikes that disabled their attackers in the blink of an eye. A sharp jab to the throat, a swift kick to the knee, a flurry of punches to the side of the head, and it was over. There was a bizarre musical quality to the cracking of skulls and snapping of bones, and this realization made me feel very guilty because these people were innocent civilians, caught up in some supernatural insanity. Trisha didn't share this guilt, nor did she have any hesitation as she beat the shit out of over a dozen people to get us to the aptly named Mosh pit. My body ate like a mother, well, Trisha didn't seem to have been phased by any of this at all, and on the contrary seems to have enjoyed the little workout.

This train was fucking without conscience. I was about to make some silly quip about her fighting skills when I felt utter dread wash over me. All through this night I'd seen things I'd never even imagined, things that would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life, things that made me feel the sort of fear that I'd never experienced before in my life. But it was all nothing compared to the abject, irrational terror that I felt at that moment. It was a sort of primal fear that cornered animals feel when they know they're about to die, but can't see their predators and so just don't know where the attack is coming from.

Cold sweat trickled down my face as I stood rooted to the spots, wondering what the fuck was happening. What was responsible for this? Was it the bear? Couldn't be. I'd faced the bear before, but this wasn't the same. This fear slivered its way inside and squeezed my heart, and even standing on my feet, put a strain on my body. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. I spotted him out of the corner of my eye,

coming down the passageway connecting coach five to coach four he was a man sort of as was evident with his hairy naked body and his dick flapping about as he walked but that's where the similarities with humans ended he had a lion's head big and furry and his feet ended and razor sharp claws where his toes should have been dear god trisha whispered when she saw him what is that thing That thing roared, the sound instantly bringing the both of us down to our knees. We waited helplessly as he approached us at a leisurely pace, confident at the fact we couldn't defy him. We really couldn't. Even the thought of running away made our inner shiver in fear. He got closer and closer until I could feel his rancid breath on top of my head. It's heat making me whimper. I then felt his clawed feet.

finger on my head and he slowly brought it down to my face, cutting through the skin and causing me to bleed profusely without even trying. My brain didn't even have time to process this pain when his hand covered my face and he began to squeeze. I heard Trisha shout something, but it was far off as if she was at the top of a mountain in the distance. I felt his fingers digging into my skull, which began to snap and pop painfully, before everything went dark. I didn't waste a second after I'd had this vision. Pulling Trish's arm, I forced her back into the compartment where the violence was still in full swing. Having that vision had made me realize that we'd made a critical error. To get to coach number three, we had to exit out the back door, not the front door as we'd

not. But that mistake had brought me face to face with the entity that I feared was the one controlling all this, for the sheer power that he emanated, and the terror he inspired by just his presence was nothing short of extraordinary, even by the standards of this train that we'd gotten used to. However, knowing that he was the linchpin to this didn't alleviate any of my concerns, and only gave me more fear and anxiety. How are we supposed to stop this thing? We keep pushing forwards towards the first compartment, almost as if by instinct, but do we even know what the fuck we're doing here? Because it certainly didn't feel like it. What?

Why are we heading back? Trisha asked as she punched an old woman in the face. What did you see? I'll tell you about it when we get to the other side, I shouted. And I did. After we'd fought our way back out through the carriage, I told her about what I'd told her about what I'd. seen, why I felt he was the one responsible for all this and how we'd made a mistake going in that direction. Maybe he forced us to make that error, Trishus suggested. Maybe it's scared that we're

getting close to it. I shook my head. He didn't seem scared at all. If anything, he was arrogant. Yet he still decided to come personally and hunt us down, didn't he? She asked, I don't think he expected anyone to make it out of their compartment at all, let alone come this far. I think that's got him spooked. How do you figure that out? She grinned. Well, did you notice how the two of us were the only ones in compartment five to not go into a murderous frenzy after the siren sounded? Almost like the sound only affected those who were initially in that carriage and did nothing to outsiders like us. Hmm, that makes sense, but the question remains, why is it that only the two of us have been hopping carriages and no one

else. I don't know, she admitted. But what I do know is that makes it all the more important for us to see this through to the end. I wasn't entirely convinced by that. A lion-headed man had sat me of almost all of my will with simply his presence. I think Trisha saw that, as she grabbed my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. We're almost at the end, Mayor. Please don't give up now. I nodded. Okay. Let's do this. Do what, though? I hope we find the answer to that question before we get to our destination.

I know I say this a lot, but what the fuck? Tricia said, her complete attention on the strange monstrosity in front of us in compartment number three. She was right, in that she, you know, we do utter those words a lot, but that doesn't mean that it isn't a hundred percent justified. This thing in front of us was, for the lack of a better. a word, half for human. He had two thick legs supporting a headless torso, I mean, he wasn't headless per se. It was like his neck had swallowed his head, which then traveled down to his gut and tried to emerge out of his belly button, which in turn proceeded to transform into his

mouth, perennially stuck in a shocked, oh, expression. The skin of his stomach stretched across his eyes, such that his entire torso rippled every time he blinked. His arms had extended, splitting into multiple tentacle-like abnormalities that had stumps for hands, stumps that opened up into mouths with razor-sharp teeth. We watched as dozens of these mouths, attached to elongated, flailing tentacles, devoured everything in sight, and I mean everything. Passengers, padded seats, suitcases, hell, he even devoured half the roof of the carriage, and bright beams of moonlight entered through the opened-up roof,

basked the broken compartment in a serene glow, making the blood of the passengers sprawled on the half-eaten seas glow like melted rubies. Wind funneled in through the gigantic hole in the roof, rattling the broken pieces of metal that jutted out from their frames. How are we supposed to get past this bastard? Trisha asked, aghast at the sight in front of her. Feed it, I replied.

At least that's what it says in the diary. I don't think he needs our help to feed himself, she remarked. I think we need to keep its mouths busy and sneak past it. I suggested a faint idea swirling and beginning to solidify in my brain. We gathered up broken bits of iron and human body parts that were scattered on the floor and prepared to push past this monstrous, fleshy blob when a powerful raw boom from behind us, announcing the presence of the man with the lion's head.

having already seen him before and having retained those memories it was easier for me to get used to his overwhelming presence but I couldn't see the same for Trisha who'd frozen in fear after locking eyes with him. Trisha, I shouted, then punched her in the shoulder to snap her out of it. It worked and she began to move, despite the abject terror etched across her face. Crossing this carriage with these two monsters surrounding us was the hardest little stretch we had to come.

cover. I've lost count of the number of times I've had visions of my death, only to change our movements and die yet again, and then repeat the whole process all over again. I had my head gobbled up by the tentacle mouths, was beaten to death by the lion, had my limbs torn from my body, with the end result being that my body began to ache even though I didn't actually suffer those injuries. A fucked-up version of phantom limb pain that exploded in my body as my mind failed to process the information. it was being overloaded with. But finally, there came a time where everything worked out perfectly well for us. All the pieces of food we tossed landed right next to the tentacles,

and we scrambled past the cannibalistic monster with perfect timing, such that the tentacles swung into action the moment the man with the lion's head appeared in their age. Wurring and striking like demonic little snakes. As I stumbled out of the carriage, I heard the latter roar with anguish, and frustration as he began tearing apart the tentacles that hungrily wrapped around it. That lion-headed bastard was definitely going to win the fight, but it had bought us enough time to get the fuck out of there. Unfortunately, my body was in no mood to listen to the commands.

My brain frantically fired at it and just completely shut down. The exhaustion, the fear, the sensory overload had fried my nervous system and set my muscles of all energy, such that my arms hung like limp noodles, devoid of any life. I fell down hard on my earths, my legs turning to jelly. Get up, me!

Trish screamed, wrapping her arms around my waist. Get up! We're almost at the finish line. Move! She pulled me up, but my legs just couldn't support my weights, and thus both of us ended up wobbling and stumbling.

Come on, she panted. You've done so well, honey. Just push, move. She exerted all her strength and literally dragged me down the passageway, transporting us to our destination. Exhausted, out of breath, with sheer will pushing us forward, we had finally arrived at compartment number one. Part 5.

There were several things about compartment number one that made it different from anything we'd seen until now. beginning with the door that was left ajar, the first one we'd encountered on our journey that was already open, and invitingly so at that, with a red carpet rolled out on the PVC floor like the tongue of some majestic primordial beast. The sound of cello softly wafted through the open door,

a beautiful melody that I recognised very well. Whoever was playing Handel's Sarabende certainly knew their way around those bulky-stringed instruments. Trisha and I stole a glance at each other and walked into the carriage. It felt like we'd walked into another world. It didn't look anything like what a passenger coach in this train should look like. The long padded seats and metal walls have been uprooted and tossed outside,

only to be replaced by ornique teak dining tables covered in embroidered white cloth with silver cutlery atop them. It was as if this compartment had been converted into a restaurant. It would have made for a beautiful sight, if not for some of the jarring oddity. First were the customers in the restaurant, who were actually just the passengers travelling in this coach, if they're warm yet decidedly middle-class clothes or anything to go by. Sitting on the tables with blank expressions on their faces,

and black, tar-like tears running down their cheeks, didn't seem like they'd volunteered to be in this position. Second was the bear, napping in a far-off corner of the carriage. He was much smaller than the one we'd recognised earlier, but deep in my bones I knew that this beast was more dangerous, and it wasn't even close. The power radiating from this one was a physical thing that sat heavy in the air,

making it thick and nigh unbreatheable. We didn't even pay much attention to him because of what he was sitting next to. Third, near the bear was a table so long it pretty much spanned the entire width of the train. Splayed out on top of the table was a corpse, with its intestines bulging out and hanging limply by its sides like blood-red sausages. The man with the head of a lion was sitting and eating the corpses inards, stuffing them into his mouth like an ill-mannered child and shredding them to pieces with his sharp canines

that were yellowing around the edges. Sitting next to him was a woman, young, maybe mid-twenties like us, sipping red wine and balefully glaring at the lion-headed monster. Surrounding them were four more of the passengers with thick black tears rolling down their faces, and their arms were moving with sudden jerking motions, like fucked-up little marionettes, as they belted out the classical tune from the cellos resting against them. It was all so surreal that we just stood staring at the unbelievably strange sight in front of us, with our jaws dropped so low they almost touched our chests.

"'Is that him?' Trisha whispered, her voice trembling like wind-churched. in winter I was about to nod when every head in the carriage swung in our direction the movement sharp and abrupt like a gunshot the cello stopped singing with a sharp shriek silver fork and knives ceased raking against empty plates and even the bear silently snarled at us the only one unperturbed by our appearance was the man with the lion's head who continued feeding on the corpse before him but I don't think that was because he'd anticipated our arrival No, it seemed to be because of our sheer irrelevance to him. Does a lion care about ants scurrying around on the ground near him?

No. At least, not unless they stink sharp enough to draw his attention. Trisha quickly popped off a couple of shots at the lion-headed monster, who snapped and caught the bullets between his teeth, before slowly chewing them and gulping the mangled, lair down without sparing so much as a glance at the woman who just tried to kill him. Then, his teary-eyed puppets attacked, jerking up out of their seats and charging us without a care for their oddly contorting bodies. I close my eyes, blinking back tears of frustration.

When will this nightmare end? Trisha roared and met the black-eyed freaks head on, punching and kicking to her heart's content, like she had two compartments back. But things were different this time. This bunch with thick, tar-like tears streaming down their faces. were much stronger than those people we'd thought through. Not to mention Trisha had been driven past the point of exhaustion, her wheezing and trembling body now moving by pure instinct. A couple of feeble punches connected,

but they didn't even daze her attackers, and I'm not even talking about myself. My entire body was sore, and it took everything I had just to stand on my own two feet. So it wasn't at all surprising that I was subdued within seconds. What was surprising, however, was what happened next. The two of us were forced down on our knees.

Our arms twisted behind our backs at angles so sharp our bones were at the brink of snapping into pieces. I would have screamed if I had the strength to do so. My eyelids drooping, I was drifting off to sleep when I was jolted back to wakefulness with sharp cracks across the face. The vicious slap had left deep red imprints of long fingers on my left cheek, but at least I was awake. The lion-headed monster stood up, and so did the lady with the wine-glass beside him. Dejavu, a horrible sinking feeling emerged from the pit of my stomach,

as if a heavy anchor had been tied around my waist and then kicked into the ocean. Death would have been a welcome release from this hell, but it was not to be. As the demon got closer to us, with the carriage creaking and shifting under the weight of his footsteps, an explosive roar cut through the air from behind us and reversed. I gauberated in the luxurious compartment. I gauped at the lion-headed monster who walked through the door and came face to face with the lion-headed monster standing in front of us. This strange sight made my head swoon.

The one in front of us roared back at the intruding doppelganger, who instantly burst into flames, sending fiery little sparks drifting in the air that singed the skin of the brainwashed passengers who didn't even flinch at the heat radiating from the burning monster. The demon snarled in anger before turning to look at the woman beside him. She put her hands up in defence and opened her mouth to calm the agitated monster. But he was in no mood to listen.

He grabbed her by the throat, but then seemed to hesitate and finally proceeded to let her go after growling in frustration. Before I could even begin to contemplate on what was going on here, he disappeared with a loud pop, sending a powerful gust of wind that not despatch. sending me crashing into a table, causing heavy silver cutlery to come crashing down on me. When I next came too, I saw the same strange woman leaning over me. Her brow furrowed with concern. Are you okay?

She asked as she helped me to sit up straight. What happened? I croaked. My throat so parched it seemed like every word scraped against it. It's over, she said, smiling. You did it? Did what? my eyes lazily scanned my surroundings

we were still in the same compartment but things were a lot different from when I was last conscious the train had come to a halt and every passenger here lay crumpled on the ground out cold I spotted Trisha sitting in a corner chugging down water she winked when she saw me what happened where's that lion monster I mumbled and where's the damn pet bear The woman brought some water for me to drink before telling her story. She said that her name was Ritu,

and that she was the one who'd summoned that monster. I tensed up when she said that, but she quickly moved on, arguing that it was a big mistake and that she'd been trying to send the bastard back to hell ever since. She talked about how her family was murdered, and she wanted to get revenge against the killers, so she summoned him, but far from helping her, the demon broke out of her control. and went on a rampage,

killing innocent people and inflicting psychological torture on her. Seeing as she was the one who summoned him, she'd been bound to him and vice versa, and it wasn't until this train journey that she got the chance to get rid of him for good. So you're like a witch or something, I asked, not believing the words coming out of my mouth.

She nodded. I shook my head, surprised at my ability to digest that statement without a hint of doubt. A witch with magical powers, I couldn't even... Wait, I said, interrupting my own chain of thought. The visions that I've been having, is that because of you? Her eyes widened at that.

You were the one who ended up getting the gift. Her head swiveled, took a look at Trisha before, coming back to me. I actually wanted to give the power to her, not you. My powers, they sometimes missed. fire. Why? I asked. I mean, why give me or her that power? So that I could trap him, Ritu replied. The way that he designed the horrors in this train is that each compartment gets his own unique hell, and the passengers aren't allowed to get out of their carriages. So I added some modifications in his plan, subtle layers of additions just beneath his own magic, allowing

you to move between coaches and giving you the power to see the future. But Trisha could move as well, I pointed out. I do not know why that is, she admitted. Maybe it's because she was with you. Maybe it's because she has her own unique circumstances that allow her to bypass restrictions placed by Purson. Purson? The demon.

Oh, so, um, what happened to him? He's caught in a time loop, trapped in their fraternity, she replied. He's always loved travelling through time. It's the first thing he reaches for every time he gets into trouble. I knew he would do that, so I took advantage of our connection and added another condition in his magic. That is, if he comes across himself, he would burn. Wow, and that worked? Yes, the more outlandish of restriction, the more powerful the magic.

Like a spring reaction, she answered. So using you to as bait, I messed with this plan, which made him. go to the past, bringing him face to face with himself here. When he saw himself burn, his reaction was to go back in time, hunt you down and fix things, and on and on we go. Well, my head heard as I tried to process this. He won't just break out of this time loop, will he? No, his gigantic ego will not let him think of any other way, and the arrogance hammered

into his brain over thousands of years of existence will not just go away like that. Of course, being caught in the loop ended his ability to influence anything, which is why everything should return to normal now, relatively speaking. So, what happens now? I asked. Now we wait, Trisha added. I looked at her, her beautiful eyes glinting under the moonlight that streamed in through the windows. My people will be here soon to clean this freaking mess up. Your people? "'They hunt monsters like Prusson,' Ritu replied. "'It's why I chose her to help me put him down.'

"'Ah, of course she does.' "'But I need to leave,' she added. "'I don't think they would take kindly to my presence, "'considering that I started all of this in the first place. "'They wouldn't,' Trisha agreed. "'Even I'd stop you if I wasn't falling apart.' "'But why? You helped stop this?' I protested. "'Innocent people wouldn't have died

"'if it hadn't been for my blind first for revenge.' "'She replied, "'I'll pay for my crimes eventually, "'but there's something I must do first.' "'What?' "'There's someone out there who still gives a shit about me. "'I'm going to find them and then turn myself in. "'Is that okay?'

"'She quickly glanced at Trisha, who shrugged. "'Do whatever you want. "'It's not like I can stop you, right?' "'I was seeing a little. Ritu off when I noticed something sticking out of her backpack. A brown leather diary. So that's what it was. Ritu, can you send physical objects back in time? She looked at me, eyebrow raised in confusion. Yes, but I'd have to hurry. My powers are weakening as more time passes with Pursons still stuck in the loop. Good, I'm going to have to borrow that

diary of yours. Something tells me I'm going to need it. tell. It didn't take me long to scribble on the first page of the empty diary, and why would it, considering I knew exactly what to write? Tricia's people arrived pretty quickly after Ritu had left, but in the meantime I did finally go to the toilet and relieve myself, feeling grateful for the opportunity to do so without demon bears trying to kill me. I then strolled out to find the other passengers slowly waking up, getting extremely disoriented as they found themselves in the strange compartment. Trisha's people had arrived, armed to the teeth with strange tattoos on their foreheads,

the shape of a trident with a crescent where the hill should be. They proceeded to take control of the situation, guiding the passengers safely outside to get them fresh air, food and water. I saw Trisha getting chewed out by someone who appeared to be leading this group of man. He stiffened and walked away when he saw me coming. "'Tricia turned and grinned when she saw me. "'You're in trouble?' I asked. "'A little.

"'Lucky's just upset I wasn't as prepared as I should have been. "'But you didn't know this was going to happen. "'We always have to be prepared, mayhair. "'It's kind of what the job's about. "'So you hunt monsters, sir. "'Well, that's pretty cool. "'It is, isn't it?' "'I nodded.

"'So what happens to the passengers?' their memories will be wiped clean this will appear on the newspapers as a tragic accident will they do the same for me too i asked aghast not if i put in a good word for you she winked will you depends on what on whether you buy me a coffee many thanks to the two authors of tonight's stories richard saxon and demandar now if you enjoyed these stories please do me a little favor write something nice and leave a five-star review wherever you get your podcasts. It really does make a big difference. That is all for this evening, but I'll be back again. Same time, same place next week. I do so hope you'll join me once more.

Until then, very sweet dreams and bye-bye-bye.