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The Horrible Train

"The Endless Journey"

By Isra SaleemPublished about a month ago 3 min read
The Horrible Train
Photo by Ankush Minda on Unsplash

I'll never forget the day I boarded the horrible train. It was an old, rickety thing, with creaky wheels and a groaning engine. I had no choice but to take it, as it was the only train running on that fateful night.

As I settled into my seat, I noticed a strange smell, like something was burning. I tried to ignore it, thinking it would go away, but it only got worse. The train lurched forward, and I felt a jolt of fear as the wheels screeched and squealed.

The passengers around me seemed just as uneasy, their faces pale and worried. We exchanged nervous glances, but no one spoke. The silence was oppressive, heavy with foreboding.

As the train rumbled on, the smell grew stronger, and I started to feel sick. My head spun, and my stomach churned. I tried to stand up, but the train lurched again, and I fell back into my seat.

That's when I saw it: a dark, shadowy figure moving through the cars. It was tall and gaunt, with eyes that glowed like embers. I tried to scream, but my voice was frozen in my throat.

The figure moved closer, its eyes fixed on me. I felt a cold dread creeping up my spine. Suddenly, the train screeched to a halt, and the lights went out.

We were plunged into darkness, the only sound the creaking of the train and the heavy breathing of the passengers. I was trapped, alone and helpless.

When the lights flickered back on, the figure was gone, but the smell remained. It was stronger now, and I could taste it in the air. I knew we were in grave danger.

The train started moving again, but it was slow and jerky. I could feel it struggling, as if it was being pulled by some unseen force.

Suddenly, the doors slid open, and a figure in a black hood appeared. "Welcome to your final destination," it said, its voice low and menacing.

We were trapped, with no escape. The train was taking us somewhere, but I knew it wasn't a place we wanted to go.

As we continued on our journey, the smell grew stronger, and the air grew thick with fear. I knew we were all in grave danger, and I wondered if we would ever make it out alive.

The figure in black began to walk through the cars, its presence seeming to draw the life out of us. I tried to move, to escape, but my body felt heavy and unresponsive. The other passengers were similarly paralyzed, their eyes wide with fear.

As the train rumbled on, the figure began to speak, its voice like a cold wind in my ear. "You should not have boarded this train," it said. "Now you will never leave." And with that, the darkness closed in, and I was consumed by an eternal night. The last thing I heard was the sound of the train, still moving, still carrying us deeper into the abyss.

Some say that train still runs, carrying its passengers on an endless journey through the depths of hell. Others say it was just a hallucination, a product of a fevered mind. But I know the truth. I was on that train, and I know that it was real. And if you ever hear the whistle blow, and see the headlights in the distance, don't board it. Don't even think about it. Just run, and never look back.

They say that on certain nights, when the moon is full and the wind is blowing strong, you can still hear the whistle of the horrible train, echoing through the deserted stations and forgotten tracks.

fiction

About the Creator

Isra Saleem

Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.

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    Isra SaleemWritten by Isra Saleem

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