Train of the Damned.

Lifting my head from its space, the leathery seat unpeels from my face. Stretching my arms a yawn breaks free. Which ends abruptly as my hands hit the rack above me.

I wipe the small amount of dribble from my chin, feeling the mark of the seam embossed into my skin. I appear to be on board either a train or fast moving bus. The rhythmical clatter of steel tells me I'm on a train in a rush. A train far from its destination, going by the speed we are traveling.

Dark shapes outside in the dusky light, very quickly they flee. Flying past closed windows, the shadows of hedges and trees.

The continuous rhythm of 'clack clack' 'clack clack'

"Where am I? How did I get here?" are the first thoughts to cross my track.

My eyes rove the carriage for other passengers to find, who might solve the questions burning through my mind.

I notice the least intimidating traveler amongst us all, an old woman whose eyes survey the carriage as fast as her nimble fingers crotches the woolen ball.

"Excuse me, mam."

I don't know what else to do.

"Can I ask where is this train going to?"

She glanced at me with suspicion and then with disdain. Staring at her deftly moving fingers as if to answer might cause her some sort of pain.

I spied another gentleman sitting just behind her to whom I also asked. With apprehension in his eyes, he glanced me up and down, until at last.

"You are riding the Midnight Special and she is going very fast."

He noticed the dirty look that the old lady shot him.

"Mind your own business and go back to your cardigan."

"What's the harm in letting me know where I am?" I asked.

Then a young woman in her twenties who I hadn't noticed earlier sits up and greets, from her lying position across two seats, "once you figure out where you are, you may find it hard to disembark."

"And where would that be?"

"You'll find out soon after dark." Answered an even younger man very directly. Who on the other side of the aisle, lounged back leisurely.

"Why don't you just tell me?" I asked.

"Don't you like surprises?" the young girl surmised.

"Not really," I replied.

"Well, we do." The boy answered, "it can be a real laugh seeing the look on some faces when they finally get to arrive."

"I don't get it? You make my sense of humor seem so humbled."

"Comedy can be very subjective." The old man mumbled.

"You have no sense of humor." The younger male fumbled.

The speed of the train had begun to match the speed of my heart. The shadows outside melded into one long continuous shape of dark. Against the grey of the sky. Picking up more speed the train began to fly 'clack clack' 'clack clack'.

Then sudden blackness as the Midnight Special shoots into a tunnel, 'clack clack' 'clack clack'. Echoing tracks groan and rumble. The darkness is thick, eyes open painfully wide, there's nothing to see with, nothing to guide.

Dim light once again enters the sides, as the train clears the tunnel on its wild reckless ride.

Passengers seem more than what was noticed before?

"What's the last thing you remember before climbing aboard?" A male voice asked from behind, which caused me to jump with surprise.

"I don't even remember climbing aboard this ride?" I answered, "unless I was carried aboard unconscious?"

"Had I been drinking?" a thought, that I had been thinking.

I couldn't really tell how long ago I'd had a drink, considering the confusion, I couldn't think.

The smell of alcohol came across strong with a hint of smoke. Every time the old unshaven passenger behind me spoke. To one side of his head sat, a worn-out old cap. A dark-colored scarf wrapped around his throat, tucked into a grey and white tartan overcoat. His fingertips all yellow and brown, a half-smoked cigar between his finger and thumb. Which he placed into the corner of his mouth, so he could wave his hands around every time he got a word out.

He reached a hand over the back of my seat, hoping we could meet.

"Murphy's the name"

I took his hand but shook in shame because I had forgotten my own name?

"What is it? You seem a bit shy?" He asked, waiting for a reply.

"Not sure? I don't even know how I got here. Dunno if I was drugged? It can't have been just beer?"

Murphy reached into his overcoat and pulled out a stainless steel flask, "Here get a couple of gulps of this to help ease the task."

I took a big swig the fluid burned as it went down. I wasn't even too sure if I was an actual drinker before now?

"What is our destination?" I asked him after. Since no one else wanted to give me a straight answer.

"Depends on your perspective. It can be pure heaven...or unadulterated hell."

"What do you mean?"

"If you want things to go easy on you there are a few things I should tell."

"Like what?"

"Tell the truth, be honest, have some dignity, make sacrifices if you have to. The usual things expected from you."

I thought that I was a pretty decent guy all my life, "these things are second nature to me, you know, being nice."

"So if I want things to be a living hell do the opposite."

"Yep, you have the idea. Don't quit."

I had one more question for this stranger, "We're not dead yet are we?"

He laughed, "Do you feel free?"

"Hey Mister," to me, the young girl called out of the blue.

"You're not up for a bit of fun are you?"

"That depends, what kind of fun do you have in mind?"

She turned her head downwards and looked up at me with her long-lashed eyes, "any kind of fun, we have plenty of time."

I was starting to feel the liquor, my eyes started to shine. My body had relaxed, I was now feeling fine.

"Maybe you would like to go and share a cigarette in the smoker's cabin."

I asked Murphy for another swig from his flask, this time it went down smooth, it didn't cause me to gasp. The young lad gave me a bit of an evil look but I ignored him. Although her eyes watched us leave with suspicion, the old lady returned to her item. Murphy tried to strike a new conversation with the elder male passenger. But he preferred to remain an unknown stranger.

Once we were in the smoker's cabin she sat at the bar, on a stool. I helped myself to a couple of Irish whiskeys, on the ice for us two.

"You're leaving a tab to cover those I take it?" The young female asked me as she pulled out her matches.

I smiled as I passed her a glass, "I'd hate to get thrown off, we're going too fast."

The evening light through the window accentuated the sight of her perfection, her fine well-shaped nose, and chin. Her pouting lips, not too thin. The sparkle of her eyes and the playful laughter lines. I am filled with deep appreciation that a simple smile, from such a wonderfully delicious creature, can feel so sublime.

That instant I wanted her, If only just once. I could feel that familiar feeling, my body wants to hunt.

To be overwhelmed by her scent, to squeeze her softness in my arms and hold it towards me with all her feminine charms. To feel her tresses through my fingers, as my nostrils drink the perfume that delicately lingers. How beautiful the pain of pleasure etches across her face, as we move together in a deep embrace. I hold her tight to indulge every space, her cherished gift of heavenly grace. Until in great submission my body finally gives. My appreciation for this stranger, fully, I embrace.

Then it happened my mind comes back to its senses. The woman whose body and soul I had to have, who piqued my lust with bodily caresses. With the skill and power of an all-knowing goddess. A seducer with prowess, over the powerless.

Who causes me to throw away any thoughts of another that patiently awaits beside the sea. The Batchelor party that brought me here, till I was left and discarded by friends who should have looked out for me.

Now I look down with sorrow and self disdain upon a beautiful creature whose life no longer remains.

I see it all now who I am, I see nothing but a sham. A regret I'll never forget. A beautiful life plucked at its height. I was her demon and now she is mine. The Midnight Special is a never-ending ride.

The ever-consuming guilt will eventually tear me apart. Eat my soul and whatever is left of my heart. Until I am nothing but an empty hollow shell then awaken again to relive the hell.

My friends were aware of my womanizing ways and uncontrollable emotions. Were no longer willing to put up with my delusions. They did this to save the life, of the woman who was to become my wife.

'Clack clack,' 'Clack clack,'