The Last Train Ride

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Jeremy approached the steps of this abandoned cabin and slowly reached for the door knob. At this moment, Jeremy awoke from this dream with a start. He was in his bed, dripping in a cold sweat. The blankets had fallen to the floor of his bedroom. Jeremy sat straight in his bed breathing heavily, grasping at his mattress sheets. This was the fourth night in a row he has had the same dream about the cabin in the woods. He was very familiar with this cabin. It had been in the foreground of the landscape that he passes on his morning train ride every day. Jeremy had been riding this train for the past five years. It was only recently that he started dreaming about the cabin. Jeremy finally regained himself. He wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to face the clock. It was 5:52am. His alarm clock would sound in eight minutes. Jeremey fell back onto his pillows and stared into the darkness of his room, wondering why he kept dreaming of that cabin.

Finally, his alarm went off and he began to get ready for his work day. It was a painful process due to a motocross accident six months prior. While participating in a motocross event he had lost control of his bike and collided head long into a fueling station. When that had happened a few tanks of propane exploded shooting him through the sky, making him look like a ball of fire. Jeremy broke his back, pelvis, both legs, his sternum, and his collarbone. Along with all that internal damage, Jeremy had sustained burns on eighty-seven percent of his body. He was put in a medically induced coma for five months, while his bones healed and his skin was graphed. Now Jeremy walked with a cane and a pronounced limp. His new appearance didn’t bother him too much. Thankfully, because Jeremy was wearing a helmet, his burns stopped at his neck. It didn’t make the pain less excruciating however.

Jeremy looked at the time again. It read 7:11am. Right on time to hobble to the train station to catch his usual 8:45am to Philadelphia. This morning was cool, and breezy. Jeremy still wrapped his body in bandages before putting his clothes on, to reduce any friction from the fabric on his scars. The doctors said that it wasn’t necessary, but the doctors couldn’t feel the pain Jeremy endured when his cotton button down rubbed against a raw spot on his chest. On this day, Jeremy opted for his white cotton button down shirt and a pair of beige slacks. This was his usual uniform for his job. Jeremy worked in finance for a toy factory, and did not have to engage with the public at all. Since coming back to his job, he has had to interact with more people than he has ever interacted with before. His coworkers were all very concerned for him. As Jeremy approached the landing to get on a train he felt as if he was being watched. This was not a new feeling as of late. Many people were curious as to why a fit thirty-four year old needed a cane to walk. He turned and saw a young girl staring at him. Thankfully the train began to pull up and Jeremey was able to limp briskly away from the young girl’s gaze.

It took him a while to settle into his seat comfortably. He always sat in a window seat so he could look outside of the moving train. This morning was especially important for him to look out the window because he wanted to look at that cabin in the woods. He did not understand why it vexed him so, or why it has recently haunted his dreams. The train began to pull out of the station and begin its two hour commute to Philadelphia. The cabin in the woods was one of the stops between Washington DC and Philadelphia. There was nothing superficially haunting about this structure. It was located on a hiking trail and was inducted into the Pennsylvania historical society for being the oldest structure in the state. The cabin itself was built in 1712 and was originally owned by a family of tobacco farmers that lived there for a few generations. There wasn’t anything significant about this family. The original family lived as all other colonial families lived without much drama. The primary reason for inducting the cabin into the historical society was because four generations of the original family were buried behind the cabin.

Jeremy stared out the window watching the cabin from inside the train. It stood there, slowly decaying. He could see the dirty windows and found that there was no light on. Jeremy let out a sigh of relief. It was silly to him that he needed to make sure there was no light on in the cabin. After Jeremy had seen for himself that the cabin sat there lifeless as it always had, he settled back into his seat and continued on his way to work.

Once in Philadelphia, Jeremy limped to his office, which was thankfully, only two blocks from the station. His day was typical. While working however he could not shake the feeling of dread from his nightmare. Jeremy finished his work day and once again made his way to the train station. The sun had finally set and it was dark, when Jeremy got back on the train. He settled into his chair and closed his eyes. Once asleep, he began to dream of the cabin in the woods. Same scenario. As he is about to grab the door knob, he awakens with a jerk. Jeremy looked around at the faces staring back at him. He acknowledged them for a moment and then sunk back down in his seat. The stop with the cabin in the woods was coming up. Jeremy looked out the window. His mouth fell open in disbelief. There was a single light on in one of the windows of this cabin in the woods.

Jeremy jumped up from his seat struggling. He left his cane behind and stumbled through the aisle out of the train door. The conductor screamed at him that this wasn’t his stop, but Jeremy didn’t care. He needed to know, he needed to understand what that light was doing in the cabin in the woods that haunted him this past week. Jeremy stumbled to the door, once again he was faced with reaching for the door knob. His hands trembled. Finally he grasped the door knob and turned it. It turned easily. He threw open the door and in front of him beheld a terrifying site. There were hooded figures surrounding a fire pit that was in the center of a crudely painted pentagram. The group was chanting something unclear to Jeremy. Slowly the chant grew louder, and more clear. Jeremy could hear them chanting, “The sacrifice has come, the sacrifice has come, the sacrifice has come.”