The Dream Reaper

I woke to the sound of a train whistle. The seat vibrated as the train began to pull forward and let out a hiss of air. The window to my left had the shades pulled, but the dim light above showed me a small room with red seats and wood panels on the walls.

Nothing was unusual about the train, except for the fact I couldn’t remember ever getting on one.

The train whistled again and this time it sent a shiver down my back and made the hair on my body stand up. It was higher pitched and sounded more like a scream than a whistle. I also noticed the train was picking up speed unusually fast and was showing no signs of slowing down.

What was even more eerie was the fact that other than the sound of the accelerating train, no other sounds could be heard. No chatter from other people, no cart being pushed up the aisle by a waiter, and no announcements being made over the intercom.

I turned to the window, putting my knees in the seat. Slowly moving the shade hoping to find another piece to this puzzle, I looked out the window. Instead of answers, I was left with more questions. Where there should’ve been buildings, trees, or some type of landmarks, my eyes couldn’t see anything. It was just black. Not darkness, in darkness there are still figures, there was nothing.

I looked around my dimly lit cart hoping I wasn't alone, and terrified by the idea that the exact opposite was true. Next to the door was a sign I couldn't read from where I was sitting, so I slowly approached it.

The Dream Reaper seeks many souls

He uses them like burning coals

Unless you can prove your heart is true

His train will continue to pursue

To start your trial, open the door

You're the one he’s waiting for

Who was the Dream Reaper and what did it have to do with me? What trials were they talking about? I wasn’t good at anything, definitely labeled an outcast by the kids at my own school, because I didn’t fit any group.

I quickly decided I wasn't going out that door. I would just wait for the train to make its next stop.

As I was walking back to my seat I noticed a jacket poking out from under the seat at the corner of the room. My first sign of possible life on the train. I picked it up and looked at it. It was large, definitely an adults, and something was sticking out of the pocket. It was a folded piece of paper that had the date Jan 1958 and an address written on one side.

When I opened it was a beautifully handwritten letter to someone named Lanoir. I read on and realized it was a love letter. In it he expressed his undying love and apologized for not being the man she deserved. If he had it to do over again, he would change it all.

It was signed love, Johnny.

I folded it back up and looked at Jan 1958, how long has this coat been under there? I put the letter in my back pocket, for no other reason than I felt like it was now my responsibility to get it to its owner.

The screaming whistle sounded again and I swear something moved behind the window curtain. Maybe I shouldn’t stay in this cart.

Suddenly the door to my cart rattled and a girl's voice yelled, “Hello.” I heard her whimper then ask, “Anybody? Is someone here?”

I recognized the voice, and my shoulders tensed at the realization. Amy Hayworth, or “queen B word” is what I liked to call her. She was an awful person, at least to me. She told lies about me at school, lies that made no students want to hang out with me, or talk to me for that matter. One time my gym clothes mysteriously ended up with urine all over them, while in my locker, and she conveniently was there to video me finding them and told all her twitter followers how awful it smelled. She said a lot more and has done a lot more, and I’m constantly finding ways to avoid her in every situation I can.

“Please!” she screamed. “Someone help me!”

It went against every fiber in my body, but I opened my door. I looked out and saw her trying some other doors. “Amy?”

She jumped and looked at me. Wide eyed with shock she asked, “Emma? Is that really you?”

“Yes,” I answered hesitantly. “What's going on?”

Then the strangest thing happened. Amy ran to me, threw her arms around me, sobbing uncontrollably. I awkwardly patted her back, though I was sure at any second I would feel a blade pierce my back.

After what felt like forever, I stepped back. “What’s going on?”

Amy sniffled, “I don’t know, I’ve been on this train for what feels like days, but I’m not sure. It’s always dark when you look out the windows.” Tears still ran down her cheeks. “The train never stops and we aren't the only ones on here.”

“You’ve seen others? Where?”

“I don’t know. I see them and then they’re gone.” Her voice began to tremble, “Something is taking them. I hear them scream, and that's it. They’re gone.”

“What’s taking them, Amy?”

“I don’t know what it is. It’s black and moves like a shadow, I’ve only caught glimpses of it, but I know it took the others. It followed a boy named Sam into one of the carts, I heard him scream and no one ever came out. Not even the shadow.”

I thought about the movement I’d seen behind the curtains in my cart. Could it have been the shadow?

Something wasn’t right about this train. “Amy, do you remember getting on the train?”

She froze and stared off into space as she thought about my question. “Actually, I don’t remember how I got on here. Do you?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know.”

Another scream from the whistle.

Amy started crying and yelling again. “It got someone else! We have to keep going!”

It wasn’t the whistle. Everytime I thought the train whistle had sounded, it was another victim of this train, or the Dream Reaper.

Then I saw him, the shadow. He was a black silhouette with hollowed out red eyes that looked like embers from a dying fire.

I pulled Amy into my small cart, shut the door, and flipped the lock. “That won’t stop it, it doesn’t need doors.” Amy whispered.

We heard its sinister chuckle as it got closer to the door.

“If you lock yourself in that little room, all you’ve done is seal your tomb.”

He’s right, if we stay here, here is where we will die. We will become one of the screams we’ve been hearing on the train. “Amy, we’re going to have to run.”

“NO! Don’t open that door,” her panic intensified.

“If we stay here we will for sure die.” She showed no sign of moving. Just started shaking her head. “You can stay if you want, but I’m running.”

I got ready to turn the lock and Amy grabbed my hand. “No, no. I’ll go, just don’t leave me alone, please.”

I nodded, “Hang on to me, because we are going to have to move fast.” She grabbed one of my arms and whimpered. I took a deep breath to steady myself, then flipped to lock. I pushed the door with everything I could, hoping I could knock down whatever was on the other side, shadow or not.

I ran toward the front of the train, then felt a yank on my arm, and Amy’s fingernails digging into my skin, fighting to hang on. She was pulled loose leaving a burning sensation where she had been. I turned to see her being dragged away on the floor toward the shadow figure. She scratched the floor, trying to pull herself back toward me.

I took a step toward her, then heard a door creak open behind me. I turned to look and could see daylight on the other side. A way out, I thought. I could get out of here, go back home.

“Emma!” Amy screamed. “Help me, please!”

The shadow had her pinned to the wall and was staring at her deeply, like he was looking at something inside her.

“Your heart is black, your mind is cruel

I’ll take your soul to use for fuel

I’ve seen your actions, I know your desires

You will not stop, you’ll do what's required

You step on people, use them for gain

It's good for you, no matter their pain,”

I listened to him tell Amy her sins, and I agreed. Whatever he was going to do to her, she deserved it. She was cruel and even though the majority of her torment was for me, I’d seen her belittle others. In my opinion, this was karma.

I turned to look at the open door again. My way out of this hell hole. I’d be free and maybe school would be bearable without Amy there. I took a step toward the door, “Emma!” she screamed again.

“Your soul is now mine, justice will be served

Just know your place in hell, is very well deserved”

Before he could say or do anything else, I had Amy’s hand and I pulled her toward the door with me. The shadow dissolved like smoke, letting Amy slip right through the fumes. Almost like there wasn’t anything holding her there in the first place.

I squeezed her hand tighter, making sure I didn’t lose her again. Up ahead the door with the light was beginning to shut. I didn’t know if we would make it but my desire to get off this train pumped the muscles in my legs like never before. I stuck my hand between the door and its frame before it shut, crushing my fingers. My adrenaline was so high, I barely felt any pain at all, but I had to let go of Amy’s hand to start trying to pry the door back open. If it shuts, who knows if it’ll open again.

“Amy, help me!” I shouted at her. I looked at the back of the cart and watched the fumes reassemble themselves into the shadow monster. “Hurry!”

Amy grabbed the handle and leaned back pulling the door with her. It was moving slowly, the more of a gap we created the more of my body I used as a wedge. When I was able to lock my arms in the doorway, I yelled for Amy to go through.

She didn’t hesitate this time, she let go of the handle and my arms felt like they would break immediately, but they didn’t. She ducked under my arms and went into the light.

Once she was through, I flung myself inside after her.

I landed on a hard metal floor. I looked around and found myself in the locomotive. It was different from the trains I had rode before, older. It was steam powered, and I could see the stove they shoveled coals into to make the train go. What was stranger was we were still going top speed, but there were no coals in sight. There also was no Amy.

“Hello, Emma.”

I turned to see a slim man standing by the darkened window. He was dressed in an all black suit and his skin was ashen. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am. I’m the one who’s been waiting for you.”

I remembered to plaque with the poem in the cart I woke up in. “You’re the Dream Reaper.” it wasn’t a question, I knew it was true.

“Yes, and you’ve been causing a fuss on my train.” he chuckled. It wasn’t a humorous chuckle, it was hollow, and his creepy smile never reached his deadly eyes.

“Where’s Amy?” I asked cautiously.

“Don’t worry about her, her fate was set the moment she was pulled on my train.”

“What do you mean pulled? And what’s her fate?”

“So full of questions, so full of life.” He took a step toward me, but I stood my ground. I’d been bullied enough to know that backing down always made it worse. “I’m the Dream Reaper and when do you dream?”

“When we sleep.”

“Exactly!” he stomped his foot with excitement, making me flinch. “When you dream I can pull you on my train,” he laughed, “that's when the fun begins. Then my soul snatchers get to play with you.”

“The shadow creature we’ve been runnin from?”

“They do have shadow-like characteristics, but those eyes, those burning eyes. I’ve never seen a shadow with burning eyes.” He smiled like he was thinking of something beautiful. “I’ve also never seen a shadow that could suck a soul out of a body.” He locked eyes with me and smiled like he had just told me the most exciting information. He began walking to the train's stove, “and souls are very important for me to continue on my journey.”

The plaque said something about souls. He uses souls like burning coals! “You suck out souls to burn for your train!”

“Yes, and the more souls I get the longer my train can run. But the thing is I can only use corrupt souls. That's easy enough, the world is a corrupt place. People always throw one another under the bus as long as they gain something. People will do anything for money, greed, revenge, the list could go on.” His eyebrows dropped and he took a step to me, “Occasionally my train will pick up a soul that I can’t corrupt though. That doesn’t mean I don’t try anyway.” he rubbed his hands together, “I can set the stage, give them the option to get something they want. All it costs is a measly old soul.” He chuckles, “And most of the time that works.”

“Where’s Amy?” I asked.

“You know better than anyone she was a cold hearted brat.” Then I heard her scream, the stove door opened and I watched a wisp of something get sucked inside. “There she goes now,” the Reaper said, “powering my train to harvest more sinful souls.”

“You took her soul?” I asked, shocked at what I’d just seen.

“Yes, and I tried to take yours too.” He became angry, “I set the stage, it was no accident that that girl found you on my train. I gave you a chance for revenge on that awful young lady, Amy, was it? Then I opened that door, so you could get away. All you had to do was leave her there. Let my soul snatcher give her what she deserved.” He put his face right in mine, his breath was hot and smelled like charcoal, “BUT NO! You couldn’t leave her. You had to save her even though her fate was already sealed. You could never save her. She had made her bed, now she gets to lie in it,” He pointed to the flames flickering out of the stove's grate. “And since I failed to corrupt you, little girl, I can’t use your soul.”

“So what are you going to do with me?” I asked the Dream Reaper, every terrifying scenario playing through my head. What could be worse than my soul burning in his fire?

He smiled and very calmly said, “Nothing,” I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding, “ yet.” Then he snapped his fingers and I woke up in my bed.

I sat up in fear and covered in sweat. I jumped out of bed and ran down the hall, opening doors, making sure none of them led me back into a train cart. I tiptoed to my moms room and peek in the doorway. She was sound asleep.

Had the whole thing been a nightmare? It felt so real, I remember feeling the pain. I looked at my fingers, they were still bruised from stopping the closing door. I pulled up the sleeve on my shirt, there were scratch marks where Amy had tried to hang on to me when the Soul Snatcher grabbed her.

Amy! I ran back to my room and grabbed my phone. I checked her twitter, she hadn’t posted since Saturday night. Tomorrow was Monday, I wondered if she had got out.

I remembered seeing her soul get sucked into the fire of the Dream Reapers train. That couldn’t actually have happened. Could it?

I sat on my bed to focus on my breathing, when I felt something stiff in my back pocket. I reached in and pulled out a folded paper with Jan 1958 written on it. The letter I found in the train cart.

It was all real and the Dream Reaper's last words hit me again. He had said yet. What did that mean?

That morning I got an envelope and stamp before school. I copied the address that was written on the paper, stuck the stamp on, and put it in the blue box next to the post office. I wrote a small note and stuck it in the envelope too. I didn’t know what would become of it, but if I was Lanoir, I think I would want it.

I walked into school and the atmosphere was different. I kept to myself as usual, and as usual, no one tried to talk to me. I never saw Amy that day, and on Tuesday I found out she was in the hospital. She hadn’t woken up Sunday morning and the Dr. 's couldn't figure out why. Her body is still working on its own, but she won’t wake up.

I knew why, but I also knew no one would believe me.

A few days later I got a call from an elder lady who said her name was Lanoir Simpson.

“Where did you get this letter?” She tried to sound demanding, but her voice just sounded fragile.

“I found it, ma’am. I didn’t know if it would get to the person it was supposed to, but I had to try.” I felt bad for the lady. I knew this was probably confusing, and I couldn’t be honest about everything.

“Where?”

“I found it on a train, in a jacket. I was helping clean the carts and if it wouldn’t have fallen out of the pocket I would have thrown it away.”

She began to cry and I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat on the phone with her while she grieved. “You’ve given me so much,” Lanoir said. “I never knew how much he cared. He never told me.” She sniffed. “You see, John was my husband. One night something happened. He began thrashing in bed and just went still. I couldn’t get him to wake up so I called an ambulance.” She sobbed a little more, and I waited patiently for the rest of her story, even though I knew what happened to John.

“My John never left the hospital. The Dr. 's said he had a stroke, and he never woke up. I never let go of hope though. Sometimes, when I would come visit him, I could hear him mumbling about a train. So it’s interesting that a train is where you found his letter.”

“That is strange.” I said feeling guilty for not telling the whole truth.

“He passed away a couple months ago, so he’s in a better place.”

My heart dropped. She’d never know that his soul was being used as coals to take the Dream Reapers train everywhere he desired, to destroy more lives, and cause more devastation.

No one would ever know.