Train To No Where

The train hurtled through the darkness, its wheels a blur beneath. The windows were streaked with rain, and the air was thick with steam. Michael leaned his head against the cold glass, trying to make sense of what was happening. He had no ticket, no memory of how he got here. And the train was moving fast and not slowing down any time soon.

He rifled through his pockets, hoping for clues, but came up empty-handed. His head felt foggy, and it wasn't easy to think straight. He tried to stand up, but the train swaying made him lose his balance, and he stumbled back into his seat.

There were other passengers on the train, but they all seemed just as lost as he was. No one moved; no one spoke. They just sat there, staring straight ahead with blank expressions on their faces.

Michael felt a rising sense of panic. What was happening? Where was this train going? And why couldn't he remember anything? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He had to think. There had to be a way out of this.

As he looked around at the other passengers, he noticed his wife and son sitting a few rows away. Both had blank looks on their faces as if they didn't recognize him. He called out to them, but they didn't respond. It was as if they were in a trance.

He tried to stand up again, this time holding onto the seat in front of him for balance. He walked over to his wife and son, but they still didn't acknowledge him. He shook them gently, but it was no use. They were in some kind of state of shock, just like the rest of the passengers on this strange train.

Michael made his way up to the cab, but no one was driving the train. He could see through the windshield that the tracks were disappearing into a dark tunnel. The train showed no signs of slowing down.

He frantically searched for some sort of emergency brake, but there was none. As he looked out of the window, Michael saw they were about to enter the tunnel. He braced himself for impact, but miraculously the train passed through the tunnel and emerged on the other side.

The landscape had changed, and Michael could see they were now in a desert. The sun was beating down on the sand dunes, and there wasn't a sign of life anywhere.

He looked back at the other passengers, but they were still in the same state of shock. No one had moved or said a word since the train started moving.

Michael's mind was racing. What was happening? Where was this train taking them? And why couldn't he remember anything? He had to find a way to stop the train. He had to find a way to get off.

Michael could see a train station up ahead, but the train showed no signs of slowing down. As they approached the station, Michael felt a strange feeling over his body. His mind got foggy, and he started to tremble. Suddenly, he was no longer on the train but standing on the platform at the train station. As he looked forward, he could see the train disappear into nowhere.

As he turned around, he was met by a man in a dark suit. "Welcome," the man said with a smile. "I've been expecting you."

"Who are you?" Michael screamed. "What's going on?" "And where is that train going? My wife and son are on that train!"

"All will be revealed in due time," the man replied. "For now, just know that you are exactly where you need to be."

With that, the man turned and walked away, leaving Michael standing there alone and confused. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew one thing: he had to find out where that train was headed.

Michael followed the man through the station and out into the night.

"Where are we going?" Michael asked, his voice barely audible, still struck with fear.

"You'll see," the man replied.

They walked for what felt like miles until they finally stopped in front of a large building. The man produced a key and unlocked the door, motioning for Michael to enter.

Michael hesitated for a moment before stepping through the door. He half-expected some kind of trap, but nothing was waiting for him inside except for a long hallway lined with doors.

The man led him down the hallway and stopped in front of one of the doors. He opened it and gestured for Michael to go inside.

Michael stepped into the room and found himself in what appeared to be some kind of laboratory. There were computers, monitors, and strange equipment that he didn't recognize.

In the center of the room was an oversized metal chair with straps and wires attached to it. Michael's heart began to race as he realized what this place was.

"Have a seat," the man said calmly.

Michael shook his head and tried to back away, but the man grabbed him by the arm and forcibly pushed him into the chair. He began to strap him in, tightening the straps until they dug into his skin.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked, his voice full of fear. "Let me go!"

"I'm sorry," the man replied. "But I have my orders."

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Michael alone and terrified. He knew there was no escaping now. Whatever was going to happen to him, it would happen here in this room.

He tried to struggle against the restraints, but it was no use. He was trapped.

Suddenly, the lights in the room began to flicker, and Michael felt a surge of electricity coursing through his body. He screamed as pain tore through him, white-hot and unbearable.

Then, everything went black.

When Michael woke up, he was disoriented and confused. He tried to sit up, but his arms and legs were restrained. He looked around the room, trying to remember how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was the man in the dark suit leading him into the building.

He heard footsteps outside the door and tensed up, fearing that the man was coming back for him. But instead of the man, a woman entered the room. She was middle-aged with blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. She was wearing a white lab coat and carrying a clipboard.

"Good morning, Mr. Jennings," she said in a cold, clinical voice. "How are you feeling?"

"What the hell is going on?" Michael demanded. "Where am I?"

"You're at the Center for Psychological Research," the woman replied. "You were brought here after being involved in a train accident."

Michael frowned, trying to remember what had happened. He vaguely remembered getting on a train, but after that, everything was a blank.

"Do you remember anything about the accident?" the woman asked.

Michael shook his head. "I don't even remember getting on the train."

The woman made a note on her clipboard. "That's not unusual. Often, people who experience a traumatic event block it completely."

"What happened to the other passengers on the train?" Michael asked.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss that with you," the woman replied.

Michael felt a cold chill run down his spine. He had no memories of the accident, but he knew it must have been bad.

"We've been running some tests on you," the woman continued. "So far, everything seems to be normal."

"Tests?" Michael repeated. "What kind of tests?"

"Standard psychological tests," the woman replied. "Nothing to worry about."

She turned to leave, but Michael stopped her. "Wait," he said. "What about my family? Have you notified them?" "Do they know where I am?"

The woman hesitated for a moment before replying. "I'm sorry, but we can't reach them."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, his voice rising in panic. "They have to be somewhere!"

"I'm sorry," the woman said again. "But we can't reach them."

With that, she left the room, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts. Now was not the time to tell him that he was the only survivor of the train wreck.