The Last Train

Sophie opened her eyes and didn’t know where she was.

There was movement beneath her, gentle jostling and clattering, and as she sat up, she found herself looking at dark-stained wood paneling, a large window showing the world whizzing by at speed beyond, and beneath her were white cotton sheets on a single bed up against one of those dark-stained wooden walls. It didn’t make sense to her, she realized, that she was on a train, especially a train that looked like this. When had she boarded? Where was her ticket? On inspecting the room, she couldn’t find any evidence of her belongings, or a ticket, and she couldn’t fathom why she was wearing a long white nightgown, of all things. She had never even bought such an item of clothing; it looked painfully dated, with lace at the cuffs of the long, puffed sleeves, and sitting against her collarbone where it trimmed the gown’s collar. Her long, dark hair was up in a braid down her back and, stranger still, there was nothing on her feet.

Stepping out of the cabin to the clatter of wheels on the metal track, Sophie looked up and down the corridor, the world still whizzing past at an almost unsettling speed beyond the windows that spread themselves across the wall before her. She couldn’t see anyone else, and she couldn’t hear anyone else, either. She slid the door closed behind herself and started up the narrow corridor, past other little cabin doors on her left until she reached the end of the carriage. She pressed one hand to the cool glass of the little window set within the door, the other hand finding the door handle and pulling it open to cross into the next carriage.

<Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.>

As she stepped into the next carriage, she felt the whole train jostle and jerk, planting her feet down on the thinly-carpeted floor to maintain her balance. The train was speeding up. Why was it speeding up?

This appeared to be the dining car. At least here there were other people, which gave Sophie some comfort. There were couples and families dotted about at small tables, all peculiarly dressed as if they were going to a garden party in Victorian England. Small children played with dolls and stuffed bears as their parents, in their finery, sipped tea and ate small cakes, chattering between themselves. On smaller tables, couples sat together and exchanged sweet nothings over some chocolate confection, and what struck Sophie the most was that no one seemed perturbed by the speed at which the train was traveling.

She attempted to speak to the bartender, trying to ask him where the train was going, but it was as if she didn’t exist to him, the man continuing to clean champagne flutes with gentle concentration, buffing the glass to a clear shine. Why couldn’t she remember when she had gotten on the train? Where had she even gotten on? Sophie went from table to table, asking for help from the patrons, and was met with the same complete disregard for her presence. It was as if she were some spirit, merely drifting through their existence.

And so she carried on, weaving through waiters and passengers as she made her way to the end of the carriage, pulling open the door to step into the next.

<Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.>

Where was that damn beeping coming from?

She was now in a passenger car, a row of glass-paneled doors on her left, revealing seated cabins within, filled with passengers waiting for their journey to pass. Gaggles of women gossiped and chattered while men read their papers, contemplating current affairs, all still looking like they were better suited to one of Sophie’s history books than to the real world. Her stomach twisted with anxiety the more questions pummelled her thoughts, finding herself with no answers and no possibility of finding any, especially if no one seemed to know she was there.

The train lurched again, this time far more dangerously, and Sophie let out a gasp of surprise as she braced herself against the right-hand wall, cheek pressing against the chill of the glass, fingers skittering for purchase on the slippery surface. Hazel-colored eyes looked out of the window, and she could barely make out the landscape beyond now.

They’d sped up again.

Another twist of anxiety stabbed at her, now swirled with panic as she found herself moving at speed to get to the front of the train. It wasn’t that she felt she would find the answers she needed there; it was more like an invisible string was tugging her there. With every carriage she passed through, every passenger and conductor who ignored her existence, that beeping she had heard before continued to punctuate the air at intermittent intervals.

<Beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep>

By the time she made it to the front of the train, Sophie felt nearly deranged with fear and panic, a tremble having settled deep within her bones, panting hard and heavy as she finally made it to the engine room. The beeping seemed to grow frantic, and though she couldn’t always hear it, she couldn’t find any origin for it. There was nothing she had seen on this train to suggest where it had come from.

The room was hot and stuffy, and so loud that Sophie could barely hear her own voice as she called out to the driver. Over and over she called, before slowly venturing inside, eyes squinting with the intensity of the heat, only to find that there was no one there. The engine room was empty, and there was no one driving the train.

Her scream of fear was drowned out by the sounds of the train powering forward, and Sophie hurriedly fled the engine room and went back to the last passenger car she had left, pressing her back to the wood of the door, shaking and erratic breaths consuming her entire being. The train was moving, faster than it should, and there was no one to stop it.

Adrenaline pumping through her body with a strength she had been erstwhile unprepared for, Sophie found herself running down the narrow little hallways of the train carriages, desperately trying to get someone’s attention to let them know that the train was under power and had no one manning it. They were all on a runaway train, and the other passengers, while unaware of her presence, were also entirely unaware of the danger they were all in. The train would have to stop eventually: when they ran out of track or hit something.

In one of the passenger carriages, Sophie moved to push open one of the train’s windows, gritting her teeth as she hefted the metal-paned glass upward, sticking her upper body out of it to try and get some unburied visibility on their external surroundings, and potentially where the train was going. Turning her head in the direction the train was traveling, her hair whipping around her, the braid coming apart in the strong winds, dark hair now fluttering loose all around her. Pushing the bulk of it away, Sophie was able to see that they were coming up on an aqueduct, dull and grey in the distance, curving off to the right, but what most captured her attention, and filled her with a heavy, sickening dread, was the fact that a section of the aqueduct was missing.

Sophie flung herself from the window and took off at a run, flinging herself from carriage to carriage, screaming and begging for someone to listen to her, yet no one took any heed of her panic, continuing about their day as if nothing was happening. All the while, that beeping grew louder and more persistent, now seeming to serve as something of a soundtrack to her distress.

<Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.>

Nothing made sense. Was this a dream? A horrible nightmare? No matter how many times she pinched herself, or even slapped herself, Sophie didn’t awaken. Tears streaked down pale cheeks as she found herself back in the carriage she had begun this journey in, sliding down onto the floor, the carpet patchy and worn in places. She brought her knees up to her chest, burying her face in them as she sobbed, feeling like her heart was about to explode out of her chest with the fear that had a stranglehold on her entire body. When she felt she had shed every tear she physically could, Sophie stumbled up onto her feet, pressing her weight into the window on her left as the strength in her legs wavered, and she dared a glimpse out of the window. The grey aqueduct was a blur out of the glass, though it was much closer than it had been, and that gaping emptiness in it was more obvious than before.

The sound of footsteps came towards her, and Sophie diverted her attention to the well-dressed man who now stood before her. He was tall and felt imposing, his stature large, with sandy blonde hair and eyes that seemed almost black. The fact that struck her the most was that he was looking at her, registering her presence and her existence. Frantically, she blubbered out her story, explaining that she wasn’t supposed to be here, she didn’t have a ticket, and she wanted to get off. She didn’t want to die.

I know. But you are here now. And your journey will soon end.

Sophie looked at the man with eyes filled with fear. Panic and distress consumed her, her eyes starting to blur the world from her as that beeping, that damned beeping, grew louder and faster and all the more persistent in her ears. She thought she would choke on the fear until she felt a hand take one of hers, and it was like a calm, soothing presence chasing away every dark shadow that had taken up residence within her. Her gaze starting to focus once more, Sophie looked up to the man beside her, noticing it was he who held onto her hand, squeezing it with a gentle reassurance that seemed to work in robbing her of her anxiety.

It will be alright. I will stay with you.

She didn’t feel afraid anymore. The train continued to careen towards that gaping void in the aqueduct, and yet this man’s presence, his calm, reassuring countenance, made her feel entirely at peace. She didn’t need to be scared. She wasn’t alone.

She felt herself lurch upward, her feet lifting up off of the carpet, but his hand remained in hers. And then…

And then...

There was no fear. There was no pain, uncertainty, or anxiety. Everything was quiet and calm. The only sounds that punctuated the silence were the sounds of sobbing, the faint mumbles of people talking, and that beeping noise had changed to one long, constant, singular noise.

Sophie felt like something was being brought over herself, something soft and cottony, and snapshots began to flash through her mind of a life she felt entirely detached from. Was it hers? She didn’t know. What she did know was that his hand still clasped hers, as it had before, and he remained beside her, offering the comfort and peace he had from the beginning. She didn’t feel anything but acceptance and calm, ready for whatever lay ahead of her.

Giving his hand a squeeze, her gaze focused forward, Sophie stepped forward into the beyond.