Compartment 4

I've always had a distaste for trains. Buses, too. I couldn't give you a straight answer as to why, but I've always preferred my own two legs to move me from A to B. Being at the mercy of a train, shuttling along a specified track to a predetermined destination, and rolling the dice on the quality of company- thanks, but I'll pass.

Needless to say, my disappointment and confusion was palpable as I awoke smack dab in the middle of a train car, ass parked in a cushy seat, and no recollection of how the hell I got here.

What the actual fuck is going on?

My temples are pulsating. The base of my skull feels like it's being stabbed with a red hot poker. The overhead lights are unforgivingly bright. If I had to piece together this puzzle right now, I'd guess I have the world's most outrageous hangover.

Did I go out last night?

Getting completely wasted is not out of the question; I've never really been able to handle my liquor. At the moment, it's a plausible explanation that could account for my circumstances.

Taking a look around, based on my limited locomotive knowledge, I've determined I am aboard a FancyTrain™. No, of course that's not an actual train that exists but I'm working off of limited information here and I've watched exactly zero documentaries about trains in my lifetime. However, I'm in my own compartment with a sliding, frosted glass door to my right and a large window to my left, which seems pretty hoity-toity to me. The window is useless- it's pitch black outside providing me with exactly zero insight as to where I could possibly be or where I'm headed. Everything is quiet besides the steady hiss and rumble of the train gliding over the tracks.

The compartment is empty save for myself, a small table dividing the space near the window, and another empty chair across from mine. There are no visible cabinets or storage for luggage. I pat down my pockets. Empty. Slumping back in my seat, I lean my head against the headrest. I've never done something this unhinged before. My head is swirling, grasping for any explanation, any clue, to how I ended up here.

Come on... Think... Retrace your steps.

I shut my eyes and concentrate on the last thing I can remember. I'm drawing a blank. My mind feels like a thick, viscous pool of nothing. My brows furrow in concentration, trying to recall anything...

Yes- it's coming back to me!

I was... In bed.

Right.

I'd tucked in for the night after a particularly depressing day at work (which says a lot considering it's rather depressing on any given day. A large corporation's insurance department isn't very glamorous - chock full of monotonous tasks and dull coworkers. It's a dead-end, spin your wheels til you die type of job. The type of job whose gravity snags you, pulling you closer and pull you apart until it's impossible to escape it's clutches. It's just so incredibly... Stable. Responsible.) Ah- I remember now! I was laying in bed staring at the pockmarked ceiling, milling through my nightly lamentations:

'I need a lobotomy to survive this stupid fucking job.'

'If Barb tells me about her mangy shih tzu eating toilet paper one more time, I'm gonna go postal.'

'Is this really what my life is destined to be? I have no partner. No real skills or hobbies. No direction in life. I can't believe this is what my life has boiled down to. Pathetic.'

'I would give anything to be anywhere but here.'

These laments are essentially the world's worst bedtime story, but I find a particular comfort wallowing in them every evening. Then... Sudden exhaustion had washed over me. I'd closed my eyes for only a moment. Sleep swept me away, dragging me into its blissful, liquid abyss.

And... I woke up here. In a train. With nothing to my name and no one around. I shake my head. This shit ain't adding up.

Stewing in my confusion, I picked at my fingers to pass the time. Fiddling with my hands always helps me think. I'm a professional at feeling sorry for myself- life always throws me a curveball I'm not expecting. Evidently this is merely another of its cruel tricks.

Abruptly, my skin prickled and a chill washed over me. A large, fuzzed shadow flickered into view through the compartment door. My heart leapt into my throat and sweat damped my palms. The shadow stood unmoving. Silent. The figure looked about human size but had a particular air of wrongness that leached toward me making my guts drop. The shadow remained at the door, quiet and still. Time dragged, the feeling of dread elongating every painful moment. Anticipation made the minutes ooze by infuriatingly slow. Had it been minutes or merely seconds? Wide eyed, I pressed myself against the window, distancing between myself from the ominous presence as much as possible. The longer it stood there, the more I was convinced it's toying with me. We're playing a convoluted game of creepy chicken. How long can a fuzzy shadow stare at a door and how long can a woman with no memory be scared shitless?

The shadow broke the silence first. Slowly, it reached toward the door and with it's hand- RAP RAP RAP - it knocked.

I stare on in silence.

RAP- RAP - RAP

"Uh..." I venture to say, "Who are you?"

RAP - RAP - RAP

"What do you want?!"

RAP - RAP - RAP

Each knock makes my butthole pucker.

RAP - RAP - RAP

I'm getting panicked now.

"What the fuck do you want!? Who are you?! What are you?!"

The only reply- RAP - RAP - RAP

My lines of questioning don't appear to be very effective. Either this spooky motherfucker is ignoring me or doesn't understand me, which leaves me with 2 options.

1. Accept my fate and continue to be harassed by a creepy shadow man.

2. Take my opponent by surprise and open the door.

I thoroughly despise both options.

The knocking continues. Every RAP is an icepick in my skull. To my despair, confrontation is becoming the only bearable way forward. I have no weapons, nothing but my own two hands and pure adrenaline to fuel me. God knows I don't know how to fight. I don't think I've ever thrown a punch in my life, but I've heard of people accomplishing spectacular feats under pressure. Perhaps I'll surprise myself.

Slowly, I stand and square up to the door. The overhead lights tremble- a tiny flicker. The suspense it adds is like something out of a horror movie. I chuckle under my breath despite myself- this is too ridiculous. Absurd, even. There's a latch on the right side of the door- I only have to pull up and slide the door open. In preparation, I do a quick play by play in my mind.

A swift pull.

A slide.

A smooth right hook into my mystery assailant.

I'm actually a little excited now, hopping from foot to foot. I'm a boxer ready to enter my title fight. If my opponent is human, I'd say I have a pretty good chance of defending myself. It's unlikely it's anything but human. Despite whatever the hell is going on; ghosts, monsters, aliens- none of that shit is real. Regardless, I imagine Mothman waiting for me on the opposite side of the door, eyes glowing and wings tucked. Here to torment me specifically, disregarding all his other cryptid duties. I smile to myself. Ludicrous. My mother always did say that my imagination got the best of me.

I feel the train lurch beneath me and I'm thrown off balance. I could swear the train is going faster now, but it's impossible to tell; my window view is an unforgiving void of black. I turn my attention back to the task at hand. Gathering my resolve, I reach forward and grasp the latch. My insides are bubbling with anticipation while I countdown under my breath. 3...2...1... Yanking the door to the side, I whip my right hook through the door. I'm going full send on this knick-knock motherfucker. The momentum of the punch throws me off my feet as my fist blasts toward my nemesis only to connect with empty air. My heart is thumping out of my chest. The shadow... Is gone? I whip my head back and forth down the aisles. It's a ghost town. Despite the entire chain of events since waking on this wretched train, this is what sends me into full blown panic. No memory of getting on a train, no belongings, no destination, no view? No problem. Vanishing shadow entity? Big fucking problem. My head is swimming. Am I going insane? Is this all a dream? Everything feels too tangible to be a dream but entirely too disorienting to be real life.

Tentatively, I observe the rest of the train car. The other compartments have no signs of life. Every compartment is a clone of itself, 7 of them lining one side of a hallway, and large, blackened windows lining the other. Each compartment entrance is lined with muted, stainless steel framing, frosted doors, and is lacking labels aside from a plaque engraved with a number. I crane my head to look behind me, paranoid to lose any awareness of my surroundings. I've emerged from compartment 4. Silence weighs on me- this train is maddening in its emptiness. The rumbling of the movement beneath me is the only constant. It helps. I cling to it for a semblance of sanity.

Surely this train must stop soon. Then, I'll be able to piece together where I am and escape from this twisted nightmare. I hold onto that thought, a shred of solace to calm me through this nightmarish expedition as I begin to creep down the aisle. A light flashes in my peripheral. A sleek black panel lines the top of the car from end to end above the windows, at first appearing decorative but now glowing with a scrolling LED display.

WELCOME ABOARD THE VOIDCHASER...

Okay... Unusual and particularly ominous name choice.

NEXT STOP...

I hold my breath.

WELCOME ABOARD THE VOIDCHASER... NEXT STOP...

It cycles through a second time. I feel my blood turn to ice as I watch the words march across the screen again and again. No stop listed- it's blank every time the text scrolls by. This must be a fluke. A programming error. A detail overlooked. Every time I try to convince myself this is all just a weird coincidence or a fucked up dream, dread settles into my bones whispering that in fact it's very real.

The train shudders beneath my feet and I'm shoved off balance. There's no denying it now, this train is definitely picking up speed.

Lovely.

I pause to take a mental accounting of my circumstances:

1. Wake up with no money, no wallet, no ticket, no memories on an empty train.

2. Get bullied by a ominous entity that disappears into thin air.

3. Find a useless screen with useless information and discover the train has a ridiculously comical name.

4. The train I'm trapped on seems to be increasing speed at a disturbing rate.

Oh yeah, I'm not completely screwed at all.

At this point, my options are dwindling so I decide it can't hurt to explore my surroundings a bit more. The ends of the train car are windowless and doorless. There's no obvious means to enter or exit the train at all. I turn to the compartment door nearest me- compartment 5- and pull up on the latch. It doesn't budge. I jostle it and pull up again. Stuck. I move to the next compartment and yank on the latch. It's stiff as a board. I continue down the aisle one by one and can't access any of them aside from my own.

I'm frustrated and confused out of my mind. There's virtually nothing left for me to explore in this sterile, miserable train car, so I plop back into one of the seats inside compartment number 4. What I wouldn't give for some music right now. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I will myself to close my eyes and take some deep, calming breaths. I need to gather my clarity and focus if I'm going to have any hope of working out how to escape from this mess.

Breathe in 1... 2... 3... Breathe out 1...2...3...4...5...

Breathe in... Breathe out...

In...

Out...

In...

My head bobs and jolts me awake. The scent of stale coffee and crisp paper waft past me. A steady of hum of florescent lights and clicking keyboards fades in and out of focus. I'm in an office chair, a computer rudely displaying a full inbox of emails.

Work- I'm at work! I push my chair back to peek into the cubicle next to me. Barb is harping about something on the phone as usual. From the sound of it, her sister is today's unfortunate victim- she has a particular tone she uses when talking to Susan. Yep, she's saying something about her dumb dog, as usual. It seems like any other work day. I lean forward and rest my head in my hands. It was just a dream. Dammit, it was just a dream. I'm so relieved- I can feel maniacal laughter bubbling up in my chest. I truly must be losing my mind. I shake my head and lean back in my chair. The ceiling tiles are so wonderfully bland and familiar. I soak in the sight of them while the echoes of the train still echo through my mind. Damn, that was one hell of a vivid dream. My newfound dose of reality and familiarity has me giddy. I peek around the cubicle again and make eye contact with Barb- I give her a little wave, suddenly thankful for her drivel. She's hesitant but waves back, an eyebrow raised.

I hop out of my chair and grab my mug. A fresh cup of coffee is in order now. Something pungent and aromatic is exactly what I need to bring me all the way back down to Earth. I scuttle over to the breakroom and get to work rinsing old pot of coffee then weighing out new grounds into the basket.

'Coffee is a wonderful ritual. I should do this more' I think to myself.

I usually just mooch off of whoever started the pot for the morning rather than opting to make it myself. The pot is started and I let the "pft pft pft" of the machine comfort me like a little, urban song bird. The drizzle of the coffee begins while I peruse the small bulletin board set above the counter. The usual offenders remain, steady as the sunrise: take out menus, client business cards, an outdated fundraiser for someone's kid; along with some new brochures someone recently pinned up. The new stuff is nothing too surprising. A new exhibit opening in the city, tours at a local nature park, a walk-and-wine night at the zoo, a fancy train ride expedition.

It takes a split second for my brain to register. My eyes snap back to the train brochure and my heart does a heavy lurch in my chest.

AN EXPERIENCE UNLIKE ANY OTHER

THE VOIDCHASER

Hands trembling, I reach out and snatch the brochure off the cork. There is no other information on the page. Merely the tagline and the name embellished with a photo of a simple, sleek train. The back of the brochure is black with an oily sheen to it. I unfold the brochure- the interior an empty, oily black as well. My body is shaking, my feet rooted to the floor. Someone must be playing the most extravagant prank on me. They must.

I shut my eyes so tightly I see stars. It was just a dream. Relax. Breathe.

Breathe in... 1... 2... 3...

Breathe out... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5...

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

In...

Out...

Slowly, I open my eyes and peer back into my hands. Empty. A shudder rattles through my body as I take in my surrounding. The train. The compartment. The frosted door. The black window. Everything bows and swirls around me as I realize exactly where I am. Impossible.

The train lurches underneath me- faster it seems to say. The hissing and rumble along the tracks becomes smoother and streamlined.

My breathing is shallow and words are balling in my throat, my chest constricting.

"No." I hiss.

"No."

"NO, NO, NO, NO!"

I'm on my feet, instinct and pure fear overtaking my body. I'm pounding on the inky black window- punching the chair behind me- kicking the table. Throwing a certified tantrum.

"What the fuck! NO, NO, NO. How did I get back here?! What is happening?!"

The adrenaline is waning and my pounding becomes a pathetic, defeated- slap screeeeeeech- as I drag my hand down the blank window. My eyes are swollen and face wet- I'm an angry crier. It was obvious before and it's obvious now: I'm alone and trapped here. My tantrum is serving no purpose outside of my own catharsis. No one is going to hear me. Deflated, I lean my head against the window, eyes glazing with fatigue, my body feels heavy and sluggish. The window has nothing to reveal so I stare into the emptiness, letting my eyes lose focus and my emotions detach.

The train continues to hum and rumble, infuriatingly constant. Every now and then, I feel gravity gently pull me back informing me that the train has once again gained speed. It could have been hours or minutes that I stared out at nothingness. I might have let myself wither there indefinitely.

An audible thump in the compartment right of mine sprung me from my apathy. I nearly allow myself to believe I heard nothing, but an ember of hope pushes me to investigate.

Silently, I press my ear to the wall and hold my breath. It's dead quiet. I wait for several seconds- still nothing. I knew it. I'm insane. Then, as I was about to pull away, there it was- a faint swish and rustle. A thunk that sounded an awful lot like a head hitting a hard surface. Muttering.

Holy shit, I think I might not be alone. Desperation and fear can fuel some awfully questionable decisions but at this point, I am 95% sure I'm a raving lunatic. I've got nothing to lose. I will do anything to have someone join me in this nuthouse.

Quietly, I slip out of my compartment and stand in front of my neighbor's door. The frosted glass prevents me from seeing any guaranteed signs of life but I know- well, highly suspect- what I heard.

"Hello?" I call out softly. "Is anyone in there?"

No response.

"Hey look, you're probably as confused as I am. Did you wake up here too?"

Silence.

"HEY! I know you're in there! You don't have to be afraid- I want to help!"

Faint rustling but still no response.

I remain uncertain whether I want to meet this new acquaintance. Thus far, they're not entirely forthcoming. Either way, it appears I'll have to take another route. This might be the dumbest thing I've ever done, but I'm desperate. I move a little closer to the door, reach out my hand, and knock.

RAP - RAP - RAP