The Asphodel Express

Have you ever had that moment of wooziness, where you stand too fast and your vision is filled with black dots? You stand there, waiting for it to pass, then stumble on uncertain. That’s how it begins for me, except as my vision clears, I don’t recognise my surroundings.

Now standing firm, I flick my eyes around, becoming increasingly befuddled. I’m on a train. I don’t remember going to a train station or standing on the platform, I’m just suddenly on a train. My feet stumble and hands clasp my head as I try to remember how I got here or even where I was before. I throw out my hands and grab the poles either side as I lose my balance, almost falling straight into a seat. Still my mind is dazed as I keep asking: where am I?

Shaking my head to clear the dizziness, I walk up the aisle with the intention of exploring my surroundings. It’s a London Underground-style train, seats clad in wool and nylon blend showing a blue retro pattern. Red poles go from the white ceiling to the glossy black floor. Doors stand either side for exit of the train, I’m heading towards one of the connecting doors to other carriages that appear at both ends. None of the seats seem to be filled, nobody to be seen at all. Looking out the window, I expected to see the brick-work of the tunnel as it flew past. I was wrong.

Instead, a blanket of chalky fog lay heavy in the air, nothing could be seen outside the window. It’s almost like steam from a steam engine covered the whole view, except it’s pure white, not dirtied by burning. Above the window, the signs showed a long thin line that usually informed which stop to get out, this one was blank. The only part which had any writing was the train name.

Asphodel Express.

Fear turns my muscles rigid. One question grips my thoughts: is this death? I scramble down the aisle to the door at the end. There’s no point trying the exit, even if it opened, there doesn’t seem to be anything out there. I crash through the door and halt in my tracks at my new surroundings.

It’s not a London underground-style carriage anymore. Now it’s an older luxury-style carriage, not quite a hundred years old, but not modern. The roof is one big fluorescent light, the walls a rich golden wood panelling. In between the windows, still white as snow outside, are separated by a golden shell light shade framed by thick red velvet carpets. Small lime coloured setees face inwards towards each other. Upon the patterned carpets the same red shade as the curtains, one legged gold tables with a flat base and glass table tops split the room down the middle.

But that’s not what caught my eye. People. This carriage had passengers sat on the sofa’s. They seemed to be dressed oddly, they certainly make me feel underdressed. All were clad in full three-piece suits or long elegant dresses in a variety of colour. I hadn’t paid attention to my own attire until now: trainers, chinos, a t-shirt and a hoody. I’d been stood here for a couple minutes now, yet nobody seemed to have noticed me. Or they hadn’t acknowledged me, which seemed odd.

I go towards the first person, kneel down in front of them, making so our eyes meet directly. Still he doesn’t seem to see me, locked in a staring contest. It’s like he’s daydreaming, focused on something far in the distance so much he doesn’t acknowledge I’m there. I put my arm on his shoulder, hoping contact would snap him out of it. Still nothing.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” I say, still no reaction. I move down the line, nudging and speaking to each person but none of them recognise my presence. I attempted to shock some, jumping in front of them and shouting “boo” like a child. I even tried to swear at and insult them, no matter what I said, I get no reaction.

Finally, I come upon the last person in the carriage. I stood there for a whole minute, picking up the courage. If gentle prodding doesn’t work, what about not so gentle prodding. This one was a strong burley man, the kind you didn’t want to mess with. I raised my hand and got ready to strike as hard as I could. I took a sharp intake of breath, lifted my chest to-

A fit of dizziness overcame me again, I nearly tripped over somebody’s feet. As I stumbled, I grabbed the handle for the door to the next train compartment. Immediately, I crash to the floor as my feet gets tangled in something. I spin onto my back to look up at someone standing over me. We stare at each other for a moment in silence. I notice that even though she’s not moving, I can tell that she’s not another brain-dead zombie like the rest.

“Another one” she breathes out in a whisper.

“Another? Who are you? Where am I? What’s wrong with them?” more thoughts tumble around in my brain as I stop them bumbling out of my mouth.

She crouches in front me, hand spread out like I'm crazy or wielding a gun. "How about we sit down and I'll explain whatever I can?"

Sitting up, I feel a spasm in my back, so grab hold of the table beside me. "Fine, but at least let's sit in a comfy chair."

"No" she yells, grabbing me and preventing me from sitting down. "Anyone who sits down ends up like them. Please, just sit here." Cautiously, I sit cross-legged on the ground opposite her, feeling the discomfort in my back without something to rest against. But now I see she clearly knows more than me, it's not so uncomfortable that I can’t listen to her explanation.

"Okay" she continues, "I'm Christina, this is the Asphodel Express. I've seen many people come through here, the main thing to remember is never sit down. Once you do, you start forgetting until you just become one of them. I don't know how long I've been here for, but it's been a while. What's your name?"

"Derek" I say, still trying to comprehend this.

“Great, nice to meet you Derek. So, ask your questions and I'll do my best to answer them as best I can” she says with a smile.

“You said you’ve seen many people come through, where did they go? Where are they now?” I query.

“Half of them are here, sat in one of these seats. The other half” she pauses, “I don’t know. They disappear after they speak with him.”

“Him? Him who?” I ask confusedly.

“The Conductor” she answers. “How many carriages have you been through?”

"Two, this is my third. I was on my way to the front, I’m guessing that’s where The Conductor is?" I ask.

"No. There are ‘help’ buttons in each carriage, if you press them he appears. But please, don’t do it, I don’t trust him. Tell me, how do you know which way is the front?" She asks.

That question baffles me. Now that I think about it, I just stumbled forward in a direction. I didn’t check if I was heading in the right direction. “I don’t know” I admit.

“I’ve been through hundreds of compartments, each one different from the last. But I haven’t found a front or back at either end” she explains. “Yet the train is still moving, you can hear the wheels on the tracks. Go ahead, listen.”

I put my ear to the ground, I can indeed hear the click-clack of the train moving. As I do, something catches my eye. The smoke outside doesn’t seem to move, it isn’t showing any which way the train is going. Christina catches on to my line of sight, realising what I’m looking at.

“My my, you are an observant one. I didn’t notice that originally. It was the third person I met, he was the first person who noticed. His theory was either the fog clings to train, moving at the same velocity. Or the fog is ubiquitous, meaning it never shows any sense of speed or time.” She notices my raised eyebrows, “his words, he had to explain to me what ubiquitous meant. Kinda’ got stuck in my head.”

Thoughts rush through my mind as I struggle to comprehend, but one thought stands clearer than most. “If you never saw them again, and the carriages seem endless, how do you know half of the people missing aren’t sat down in a carriage you haven’t explored yet. Or maybe The Conductor let them out.”

“No” Christina insists, “I don’t trust him. He’s” she pauses, uncertain how to convey her feelings. “He scares me. There’s something unsettling about him, like he’s a spider and you just walked into his web. Also he looks like Uncle Sam, with the hair. You know, the American guy on those ‘your country needs you’ posters from high school history” she says, gesturing the style of his facial hair. Despite myself, I can’t help a little dry chuckle, imagining Christina with grey sideburns.

“I need to speak to him” I state.

“Please, no. Whoever speaks to him vanishes. I found one once, number twelve, sat in one of the compartments”. She is speaking faster now, insisting upon me “I was lucky enough to find her quickly, before she forgot too much. Still, the only thing I could get out of her is ‘it’s a trap, don’t do it’. I’ve found if I don’t bother him, he doesn’t bother me. I’m safe.”

I mulled over what she said for a moment, but my mind is made up. “how did you escape him last time?”

“I ran, straight out of the compartment into the next. He didn’t seem to follow, I haven’t seen him since” she explained.

“I promise, I’ll be careful. If I feel even a hint of danger, I’ll run. Do you know what Asphodel is?” I ask.

“No” she replies, “one of them thought it was heaven at one point, but it sure doesn’t look like heaven.”

“It isn’t Heaven” I start. “In Greek mythology, there are three stages of afterlife. First is Elysium, or Heaven, it’s where all the heroes go that pleased the gods. Then Hades, or Hell, where all those judged to be bad go. But there’s an in-between, for those who neither did good nor bad, that is called the fields of Asphodel. I think that’s where this train is heading. If we let it get to the fields, we’ll be trapped in an eternity, just like them, thoughtless.” Christina looks worried for the first time since I met her.

“I know things you or the others didn’t” I continue. “Maybe I can figure out how to get off this thing. Maybe I can get more information that will help us. But listen to me, I hear you. I’ll be extra cautious, I’ll come right back to you. I promise.”

“You know, they all promised the exact same thing” tears hold in her eyes, not falling but threatening to streak down her cheeks. “They said they promised they would be back, they never did. Not really. But go, if you need to. When you don’t come back, I’ll just wait for number seventeen, maybe he or she won’t leave me. But I won’t stay here with him, that’s for sure.” With that she storms to the door, swings it open and smashes it closed behind her.

I sigh heavily, then go to the end of the compartment. For the first time, I have a good look around this train carriage. It’s a long distance style train, the kind that goes cross-country. Purple seats file in order, with the odd break for four seats facing each other split by a table. People have filled this carriage, everything is full except for one seat. For some reason, I get the feeling this is the seat meant for Christina.

I get to the end of the carriage and scan around for the button. She never described what it looks like, I was expecting a stop sign, like they have on buses. I mentally scolded myself for thinking that, trains don’t have stop buttons, they’re scheduled to stop at every station. Eventually I find it, next to the carriage door there’s a metal plate with ‘help’ written in bold black letters. I pause before I press the button, a little nervous. Some adrenalin pumps through me, so I count down and on three press the button.

“Hello there” says a rather deep voice from the middle of the carriage. Stepping out, I can see where Christina was coming from. He wasn’t wearing the star spangled outfit, just a plain black suit with a black bow tie, white shirt and top hat to finish off the ensemble. Abraham Lincoln came to my mind more than Uncle Sam, but I guess they both look somewhat alike. He was leaning upon a cane, one foot crossed over like he was about to do a musical dance routine. Instead he just stood there, staring right back, waiting patiently.

“Hi, do you have a name?” I questioned, curious how he would introduce myself.

“I have had many names, but now I am only known as ‘The Conductor’. I run the train, make sure everything is on track, pun fully intended. How may I assist you today?” His words flow fluently, like a politician making niceties with the public. Yet even now, I can sense that air of malicious intent lurking behind his smooth charm. Maybe because Christina warned me of it, but I was instantly cautious, yet curious to know more.

“What are these other names you mention, if you don’t mind me asking. Maybe I have heard of you before” I ask, hoping to glean knowledge. If this truly is the train to Asphodel, then it’s likely this conductor is one of the Gods. I don’t know many, but I know some.

“None that matter anymore. Today, I am just The Conductor” he provides, an annoyingly vague answer.

“Perhaps your oldest name, or the name you’re most commonly known by in the world?” I attempt to push one last time, trying to copy his tone of airy privilege.

After a split-seconds hesitation, he says “if you must know, I once known by the name Janus. I was attached to another, a brother you might say, but that has changed and now I am here. But less of me, you rang the button, how may I assist you?”

That name rings a bell in my head, but it’s so vague that I feel like I’m trying to catch it in the mist. Each time it escapes my grasp, running through my fingers.

“Erm, yes” caught off-guard, forgetting for a moment this is a confrontation that will need all my wits on the present. I can reminisce on the conversation afterwards. “I wondered when the next stop will be, and what station?” I wanted to confirm my theory, that this is to the fields of Asphodel and how much time I have to work with.

“There is only one way off this train, I will explain how it works. Ther-“ he starts.

“Actually” I cut in, “I had some other concerns I would rather discuss first.” This ‘one way’ is probably what made Christina’s friends disappear, even hearing it may be what makes you disappear. I want to delay, even prevent that from ever coming up if possible. “For instance, is food provided? When will it come?” The Conductor raises an eyebrow in a face of satirical puzzlement, but even this is a façade. Even though the question surprised him, it didn’t destabilize him. It started to feel like nothing could offset this guy.

“Why, are you hungry?” he said with a hint of amusement.

“No” I answer honesty, “but we have to eat at some point.” In all honesty, I hadn’t even considered this line of enquiry, now I regretted not asking more questions of Christina before I engaged him. Knowledge is power, and evidently this man had all the power at this moment.

“You will not feel hungry here. Nor will you thirst. Or decay. Or grow old. You are safe from all such dangers upon this train” he answered. I tried to keep my mind calm, but this did not equate to what I knew of physics.

“That doesn’t make sense, we age with time, without time then how are having this conversation. How can seconds pass, everything would be still.” I could feel myself start to unravel, chasing a thought out loud and stopped before I said something I’d regret.

“The train has it’s own sense of time. It is not kept by gravity, by stars or any kind of clock. It is measured by souls that board the train” he says.

“Ah, so we are dead!” I can’t help it, I mentally try to claw it back before it comes out my mouth but I’m too late. The prospect of death was too heavy, and so the pressure escapes in this one sentence. Up until this point, I’ve kept calm. My mind held onto Christina’s warning.

“Yes, I am afraid you are dead” he replies, calm as ever. “How or why does not matter anymore, so don’t even ask. I have a proposition for you-“

At this point I ran. I turned on my heel and sprinted out the door and I didn’t stop there. I ran the full length of the carriage, and the one after that. As I crossed into the third carriage, I grappled straight into someone.

It was Christina again. She hugged me tight, I don’t think she ever thought she would see me again. After the shock of seeing her again, I hugged her back for a brief moment before she disentangled herself. “You came back” she said simply.

“I told you I would. As soon as he tried to proposition me, I legged it” I told her, my breathing laboured from the running.

“Okay, tell me everything” she requested, and I did. We sat on the floor and I told her about the conversation with The Conductor. She found his other name most interesting, as do I, but I still can’t remember why.

“I thought of a way to wake someone from the seats” I mention. The thought randomly occurred to me mid conversation with The Conductor. I explain my theory, we couldn’t be violent to the passengers, but we could wake them a different way. By kissing them. Or using some other non-violent form of stimulation. By the time I’d explained my theory, I had fully caught my breath back, shifting uncomfortably on the floor.

“How do you sit on this floor, it’s so hard?” I ask.

“I stay stood up mostly” she answered.

"What about sleep? You can't sleep stood up" I point out.

"Erm, I never really get tired" Christina answers, scratching her forehead and her arm in her nervous fashion.

"What? I sure got tired running from carriage to carriage just then" I argue.

"Oh no, I get exhausted, but I never really, like fall asleep, as you're thinking." Christina sees the confusion on my face, "you know that feeling when you're trying to fall asleep and just can't yet? Eyes are closed, laid in bed but still aware and thinking?" I nod in agreement, "well it's just that. I rest until my feet don't feel sore, but I never dream. Not sleep really, more like resting."

"But we can't last more than, like, ten days without sleep. You said you feel like you've been here for months, maybe years right?" I voice aloud, worry and confusion screwing up my face.

"Maybe I haven't, there's no day or night here, like The Conductor told you, time is different here" Christina struggles to explain.

Suddenly I noticed her clothing for the first time. Her shirt, something bothered me about it. “That’s a cool band shirt, does it say 1989?”

“Yeah, it’s this new band called Nirvana, I went to their first gig in England, up in Newcastle. I’ve spent a long time trying to remember my past, the shirt helped. No matter what though, I can’t think what happened after. How I died” she stretched the shirt out for me to see.

Ice ran through my veins as realisation hit me. “Oh no.” Christina looks at me, startled by my sudden change in tone. “What if we’re wearing the clothes we died in. If that’s true, then maybe your last memory is just before you died. If that’s true, then you’ve been dead for decades.”

Confusion riddles her face, “but then maybe we don’t have to worry about time. Maybe it’ll only reach the fields when everyone is on board”.

I jump suddenly to my feet, my head spinning but I’m unable to stay sat down. I run so fast down the train that I lose sight of where the button is. I crash into the next carriage, too impatient to stop and look. Christina calls after me but I can’t face her right now. I need to know if what is flying around in my head is true. I’m in the fancy train carriage now, but I can’t find the button again so I burst through to the next compartment, I know where the button is in this one. When I reach it, I hit it immediately, no count down this time.

“Hello there” comes the voice in the exact same tone.

“This is it, isn’t it? This is Asphodel? No more fields? Not the train to Asphodel, this is Asphodel.” I can’t help it this time, the realisation rocking everything I think I know.

“Yes, indeed. Are you willing to hear my offer now? Once I have made it, you may think as long as you wish. When you have made up your mind, simply press the button and give me your decision.” I was nervous, I wanted to run but I also wanted to hear what he had to say. He stood there a moment in silence, awaiting confirmation that he may continue. Eventually, against my better nature, I nodded.

“I can create an exit for you, but you must choose which direction you wish to go. One will lead you to the road to Elysium, the other on the road to Hades. Once you have made your choice, there is no going back. You must live with your decision. Eternal happiness, or eternal damnation. Do you take the gamble?” I stood there like a fool, trying to comprehend what this really means and failing. “I’ll leave you to think, when you are ready, press the button.” Then with a tap of his cane, he was gone. No dramatics, just one moment he was there and the next he wasn’t.

I pace up and down, trying to get my head around it. It was obvious now where those people Christina mentioned had gone, they had made a choice. Did they end up in Heaven or Hell? Who knows. But still, a sinister aura fell about this choice.

Finally, it hit me. I feel like I just solved some unsolvable puzzle. A weird combination of adrenalin and dread run through me. I looked down the train and found that empty seat, after a moment hesitation I resolve myself to my fate, I sit down.

I can't think properly. My thoughts are muddled. I feel like I'm in rem sleep, but I'm aware of it. It's like someone is holding my consciousness just out of reach, whenever a proper thought forms- what was I saying? I can't remember.

A sensation hits my lips, then a twirl of imbalance and suddenly I'm on the floor. I scramble away from the person in front of me until I look at her properly. I know her.

"What happened?" She asked.

When I heard her voice, I instantly remember. Her face recoils at the sudden look on my face, a tear rolling down my cheek. "I'm sorry" I whisper, not knowing what else to say or how to start.

"What exactly did he say?" She says, interrogating him. "How close are we to the fields?"

I reach out and grab her by the shoulders "no, no fields, this is the fields". Her face scrunches up in confusion. "I don't know why, or how, but this is now the fields of Asphodel. There is no end of the line. Just the ride, forever."

She steps away from me, her face still showing confusion. "But then, how do we get off? How do we get out of here?"

"We don't" I insist, "this is it. Forever. No love, no pain, no joy, no horror. Just the train, forever and ever."

"There must be a way out. There was a way in, so there must be a way out" she argues back.

"Please don't" I jump to my feet and look at her, the desperation must give away something because suddenly doubt crosses her face.

"There's something you're not telling me. You're afraid, so there must be something, some way out. Tell me" she beckons.

"It's a trap. It has to be a trap, just please sit down and forget it" I plead with her.

"Give up? No, this isn't life, we need to get out of here" She says, unable to understand.

"We're dead, Christina. Asphodel is for dead people, there is no life" I reply.

"What aren't you telling me? What?" I stay quiet, squeezing my forehead as the train is still affecting me, brain working hard to catch up trying to figure out how to tell her. "What is it? Please, just tell me." After a pause, she suddenly stands straight and strides towards the door. "If you won't tell me, he will."

Realising she means to speak to The Conductor, I race after her pushing myself in her path before she can reach the help button. "Wait, don't" I shout "fine. You want to know what he told me, I'll tell you. Just don't press the button yet. Not until you know everything." She steps back and leans against door. I can tell that she'll wait, but not forever.

"Janus is the Greek God of gateways, or something like that. He offers you a choice" I explain. "A choice of two doors. It's a coin flip. He says one way is Elysium, Heaven, and one way is to Hades, Hell. Choose, then find out which path you take. Please, don't do it. Stay here, where we're safe from harm, and pain, and terror."

"Stay here? I've been here for years, decades if you're right. This is not life, it's nothing, I want something!" She yells.

"You want to live eternity in Hell?" I challenge her. "Why? Is this so bad? We're never hungry, or tired, or in pain. Nobody hurts us. Why risk all that?"

"Because at least I'll feel something. I don't want to be stuck here, knowing nothing. I want to feel. I want joy, love, I want more" she argued.

"You'll be at peace. If you just sit down, you'll be at peace, it won't matter anymore" I begged her.

"I want it to matter. I want my life to matter. Move, I'm making my choice. I'm not a coward" she spits furiously.

Seeing the determination, I move out of her way. She steps past me, as she reaches the end of the corridor I try one last time. "What if it's another trick" I say.

She stops. Slowly she turns around, "what do you mean?"

"This is a game to him. He wants to see us choose, but if you listen carefully, he never promises actual Heaven. He says one is the way to Elysium, one is the way to Hades. But do you really think they'd let us into Heaven? If so, why are we on this train. It's a trap. I don't remember much Greek mythology, but I remember there's a guard to the gates of Hades. A dog of some kind. Do you really think they'd have protection for Hell and not for Heaven? He's trying to trick us into leaving the train, to go to Hell."

"Know this for certain, do you?" She asks.

My head falls on my shoulder and I close my eyes, unwilling to accept the inevitable. “No, I don't know. But we have three choices. A very good chance of hell. A slim chance of heaven. Or a certain chance of peace, on this train. We don't have to worry here. If you sit down, we can just ride the train forever. Or stay stood and warn the next people of his tricks."

"Potential tricks. I can't spend another minute, or hour, or year, or decade in this place. I have to know, if Ely-whatever is there, if Heaven is a possibility. I need to know" she says as tears roll down her cheeks.

"Then choose. But I won't let him have the satisfaction over me. I won't let him make a fool out of me. I'm staying" I turn and stride back down the car towards the empty seat.

"Well, you're looking pretty damn foolish to me" she shouts after me, slamming the carriage door behind her again. She's gone. I hang my head for a second, then craving the relief of oblivion to take away this pain, I take my seat.

The train rolls on, the click-clack of wheels on steel tracks rhythmically sending my mind into a drift. No more worries. No more pain. No more. Peace.