The Train

The Passenger was awoken by the rhythmic double-tapping of the train slowly skating along the tracks. In a condition of half-sleep, they attempted to gain their bearings; they were sitting in a booth in an old wooden train carriage, and outside the window almost nothing could be seen except from the light of a crescent moon piercing through the overhanging clouds. The Passenger touched the window - it was extremely cold and quickly fogged up around their hand, leaving an impression upon removing it. It must’ve been near freezing temperatures outside, wondered The Passenger to themselves. They looked around the carriage. There seemed to be nobody else sharing it with them, but they could vaguely see some figures through the fogged up glass between each of the train carriages.

The Passenger suddenly became very conscious of the fact that they had no memory of where they were coming from, where they were supposed to be going, and who they were.

They sat for a moment, scanning their brain for any memory or knowledge of the situation, staring blankly into the blackness outside. Whatever it was, it felt buried deep within their subconscious, unable to be retrieved easily. They looked around them - there was a small brown suitcase with a numbered lock on the seat next to them, set at the combination 4-2-3-1, although it was already unlocked. Opening the briefcase, The Passenger found some scattered documents, which seemed to be all written in Cyrillic alphabet, and a few cards, one being an I.D. of sorts. The Passenger picked it up. It had no picture on it, but it had writing which they were able to understand.

IDENTIFIKATION KARD

Name: J . Viatori

D.O.B: 26 - 4 - 86

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Height: 175cm / 5’9

Address: ~~~~~~~

Where the address was supposed to be written was scratched out, with only the edges of letters being able to be made out. ‘I must be J . Viatori’ thought The Passenger to themself.

J . Viatori looked into the reflection of the dark window. They appeared as the ID described (as little as it did) though they could not make out their own specific features in the murkiness.

J . Viatori dug through the other documents. One appeared to be the train passenger ticket, but entirely written in Cyrillic, or some variety of Cyrillic which they were incapable of reading. There was also a decent-looking watch with a brown leather strap, which read 01:23am. J . Viatori spotted a single document not written in Cyrillic. In loose cursive handwriting it said:

Jordan,

We know full well this has been a very difficult time for you, and we sincerely hope your situation improves. Ideally, we will meet again soon, but we also understand you must find what you are looking for, first.

Yours truly.

Jordan had no recollection of the context of the letter, or the entire situation. Who was the letter from, and what was the difficult time? Jordan picked up the briefcase, and decided to try and find someone to try and gain some information from, first stopping off at the carriage bathroom to splash some water on their face. Looking back at them in the mirror was a face that only felt somewhat familiar.

Pushing the inter-carriage door open, Jordan was immediately assaulted with icy winds and sideways falling snow, which as a result Jordan hastened their movement. The train sounded as though it was going slightly faster than before, with its rhythmic tappings being less interspersed. Entering the next carriage, which appeared identical to the one Jordan had come from, they needed to force the door closed against the powerful freezing winds. There was a low howling from the breeze seeping through the gap in the door, but it could not close further. Jordan turned, and saw down the carriage sitting on one of the chairs a bag full of vegetables. Walking to the booth they saw what appeared to be a thin, elderly woman, with a large straw hat covering their face. She appeared to be awake, turning slightly when Jordan approached, and in front of them on the fold-out table a half-drunk glass of whisky sat, alongside a burning cigarette in an ashtray. The lady picked up the cigarette.

“Hi,” Jordan paused for a moment. They did not know which question to start with, as there was so many. They considered the situation… perhaps they did not want to reveal their unawareness.

Jordan decided to ask simply “Do you know what the next stop is?”

The lady took a puff of her cigarette, and coughed twice, placing the cigarette back down.

“Oh sorry, I don’t speak Russian well. поезд, um, место” Jordan was surprised; they didn’t recall knowing any Russian whatsoever.

The lady coughed twice again, and turned to face the window. She took a sip of whiskey.

“Ok, sorry to bother you” said Jordan with a hint of sarcasm, but understood the lady’s hypothetical reasoning behind not wanting to speak to a strange person on the train at 1:30am.

As Jordan walked further up the carriage, the lady coughed twice again, and Jordan noticed that it seemed to sound identical to the previous cough. Thinking deeper, all 3 times the lady had coughed twice sounded the same. A feeling of uneasiness about the old woman overtook Jordan, and they decided to move onto the next carriage. The train seemed to be getting faster, now reaching a speed where it would be dangerous for Jordan to jump off, although Jordan was confused as to why their brain would even bring up the idea of doing so.

The next carriage up had a more pleasant vibe. It was slightly brighter as a few of the booths had their personal lights on, and two people were having an intense conversation in one booth, albeit in a language which Jordan did not understand: it wasn’t Russian. As Jordan passed them they both looked up for a brief moment, as if checking who Jordan was, then continued their conversation. They seemed like they did not want to be distracted. Jordan kept walking up and saw in another booth an androgynous-looking person peering into the window, seemingly studying their own face in the reflection with their fingers.

“Uh, hello.” Said Jordan.

The person turned suddenly, surprised by Jordan’s presence.

Jordan continued, “Hi, sorry to bother you, do you speak English?”

“Yes, yes I do” the person seemed surprised at that fact.

“Do you by any chance know what the next stop is?” Asked Jordan.

The person paused, searching for an answer. Some slow, silent moments passed.

“No… I do not” they answered.

Perceiving the person as being unwilling to talk, Jordan quickly gave the person thanks and turned to walk away, but the person abruptly asked

“Do you know where we are?”

After sitting down and discussing the situation with the person, they discovered they had both awoken in similar circumstances; both had no memory of themselves, or how they got onto the train. Jordan shared the contents of the briefcase with the person, and the person was able to read the Cyrillic documents, but apparently none of them were anything more useful than typical work documents pertaining to what appeared to be an accounting job. Jordan shared the ID with them.

“You were lucky to get this, at least. I couldn’t find anything on me.” Said the person, half-joking.

“Do you know your name?” Jordan quickly realised how odd of a question that was.

“No, I know nothing about myself, other than what my reflection looks like.”

Trying to lighten up the situation, Jordan suggested they try come up with a name for them.

“How about John?” Proposed Jordan.

“No, too generic.” The person looked around them, glancing at the items on the table. “Ash?”

“Not bad.” Both of them looking at the ashtray. Then, the light from the moon outside shone brighter, having broken free of the overcast. It lit up the scene outside; one of deep forest, tundra-like. Snow covered the ground.

“Luna?” suggested Jordan.

“That’s it!” agreed Luna, joyfully.

“Luna it is, then!”

They both enjoyed a brief pleasant moment.

“So why do you think we’re here?” Luna asked.

“I’m not quite sure… I’m trying to work it out as I go along”

“There must be a reason” Luna said, slightly anxiously.

“I have this letter, which said I’m trying to find something” Jordan showed Luna the letter, and Luna read through it multiple times, trying to find some meaning.

“Do you think it is metaphorical, or an actual physical thing you need to find?” Posed Luna.

It was a tough question to answer. It would be difficult for a physical thing to explain things, but something metaphorical would likely be too abstract. The question stumped Jordan. There was silence between the two as they were both deep in thought. Jordan checked the watch: it now read 02:24am. Starting to feel drowsy, Jordan drifted off to sleep. The last thing they saw was Luna looking up, out the window.

Jordan awoke to brightness; the sun had started to climb over the horizon. Luna was gone. Jordan felt a deep longing for them to come back, so decided to wait, and watched the sun slowly become larger and larger. It started to get hot. Then overly hot. Jordan took off the large overcoat they had on, and then loosened the shirt underneath. Soon enough, it was sweltering in the carriage. The train had also quickened its pace tremendously - now anything immediately outside the carriage was an utter blur; there was positively no way Jordan could jump off the train and survive. It surprised Jordan that an old-looking train such as this one could even go so fast.

They got up and headed to the bathroom to again splash some water on their face, this time to cool off rather than wake up. Looking in the mirror, Jordan appeared much older than they did in the reflection from the previous night. Was it actually the previous night? Or perhaps the shadows of the night had deceived, and now in the light Jordan could properly see themself. Jordan felt physically in more pain too; there was pains around the lower back, the knees, and various other places. There was certainly more wrinkles on Jordan’s face.

Upon exiting the bathroom, the carriage had become like a sauna, with moisture dripping off the ceiling. The sun’s rising was making everything brighter, too bright to see without squinting. Jordan needed to get out of the train carriage, but upon opening the inter-carriage door they found that outside was even hotter with a brutal boiling wind, the the rapidity of the train made it feel extremely unstable to be out there. While crossing over, the train’s horn blew a deafening, thunderous noise which resonated through the whole train, shaking it. Jordan reacted by covering their ears, but could not do so properly without losing balance and opening the door, so they rushed through. Entering the next carriage was the same as the last; extremely hot and bright, and now there was a ringing in Jordan’s ears too. They couldn’t hear anything other than the trains engine pushing along, and that rhythmic double-beat, now briskly consistent and without gaps. There was no one in the carriage, so Jordan ran to the next carriage, then the next, none of which had any signs of life. The sun continued to rise, and the heat had begun to make everything too hot to touch without burning one’s hands.

Jordan was in a state of absolute panic. They were absolutely lost, with time running out, and still with no idea what the thing was they were supposed to find. Where had Luna gone? Where was the train headed? They ran from carriage to carriage, but becoming slower and weaker. Their hands had become numb from the burning of the metal door handles.

They reached what appeared to be the final carriage as the front had a different door, with signs indicating it was the door into the driver’s compartment. Jordan struggled to run at the point, staggering towards the door. They collapsed against it, using the last of their energy to bang on it with their burnt hands and plead to be let in. Jordan’s consciousness started to fade. The inundating heat, brightness from the sun, and speed of the train had overwhelmed. Just as Jordan was passing out, barely aware of the surroundings, the door opened and the train’s horn blew even louder than before, completely deafening Jordan. A giant all-black figure emerged from the front carriage, not quite human, its circumference seeming to expand and retract rhythmically. Simultaneously the train with all its noise faded into the background, and all was silent. It was no longer hot. Jordan, who now was nearly blind, completely deaf, and physically unable to move, took their last few breaths.

The Being turned a dark green colour, stood over Jordan, closed in and engulfed them.

THE END