The Haunting of 3:33

Tom was never late for anything. When he woke up on a moving train, with no recollection of how he got there or where he was, he was baffled, to say the least. His suit was torn, and his nose was bloody, and he couldn’t recall, for the life of him, what he’d been doing before waking up here.

Quickly, Tom checked his pockets, realizing he didn’t have a ticket to be on this train either. Where was he, exactly? He looked out the window, but all he saw was darkness. The express hurtled forward at an alarming speed, and Tom figured it was because everyone was probably asleep. He turned around and left his compartment, entering the hallway. There was no one to be found.

Moving forward, he checked in every room in the compartment, realizing he was indeed alone. Tom frowned in confusion. None of this made any sense. Wanting to speak to the conductor, he moved ahead in the train when an eerie female scream came from far behind him.

Spooked, Tom turned, looking for the source of the noise and finding nothing. Shaking it off as train noise, he began his walk forward again when the train went around a bend, throwing him into the wall of the compartment. There must be people here somewhere, he thought. He pushed himself upright and moved to the next compartment. Here, there were people laughing and drinking, having a great time. It didn’t fit with what Tom had seen so far, nor did anyone pay him any attention.

He went over to a man. “Excuse me, where does this train go?”

The man ignored him, nay, acted as though Tom didn’t exist. He tapped the man on the shoulder, or tried to, but his hand went through the man. Was he dead? It certainly seemed so. What other explanation could there be? Perhaps he was dreaming. Yes, he told himself, that had to be it. But how to wake up?

Deciding that speaking with the conductor if he could, was still the logical next step, Tom kept moving forward. It went on like this, the people in each compartment ignoring his presence. Finally, he reached the front of the express, only to realize there wasn’t a conductor at all. No one was driving this thing.

The train raced along on invisible tracks, destination unknown. Tom tried to grab the controls, but his hands went through them. Trying not to panic, he touched the wall and found he could. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge, even though it was unlocked.

He was trapped.

Another unnerving scream sounded, closer this time. Whatever it was, he didn’t want it to catch him. He had no choice but to turn around and go back the way he came, screaming be damned. His heart rate rose as every door leading off the train wouldn’t open. Tom went all the way back through the train to the caboose, which was also empty. No sign of whatever was screaming.

The back door of the train, like every other door, wouldn’t open. He had to wake himself up. Tom pinched himself, and it hurt. He couldn't really be here, could he? He walked back to his own compartment, searching it for a key or some other way out. It was empty.

It’s all right, Tom thought, trying to control himself. Someone here must listen to you. He walked back to the first booth of people, only to find the compartment massacred. Tom froze in shock. They were alive moments ago, he thought. Heads were severed, and blood littered the room, splattered on the windows and seats.

“Help! Someone! Anyone!” Tom screamed in frustration, then pulled a notebook out of his jacket pocket and a pen. He wrote down everything he knew, frowning as it still didn’t make sense. The train went around another bend, shaking and rattling, throwing Tom into the wall again.

The screech echoed a third time, coming from right behind him, sending chills down his spine. Slowly, Tom turned, instantly beheaded by a creature in white. His head lolled around as the train continued on, and his head stopped in front of his watch, which had frozen at 3:33am.