How Innocent
It's 1986. Welcome to the night shift.
There was only one rule: don't open the door.
I was just a kid who had the coolest job in the world. Even so, I'd already seen things. Nothing that could breach our specialized containment units, but things that would give people nightmares.
Not me! I was a trained soldier. Watch them, don't open the door, tell no one what you know. That was my gig, and I figured I was pretty good at it.
She changed that -- humbled me, gave me nightmares.
Her tiny frame huddled in the corner, no older than five. Supposedly, she was the lone survivor of a plane that had exploded in midair, leaving no remains.
Except her, uncharred.
There'd been rumors of a program creating super soldiers, the next generation of spies. Mistakes were made, the project and its subjects, terminated. One escaped.
Unsettled by her gaze, I pretended to inspect the door's seal.
"They think I'm bad."
I glanced at the window again, where she now stood with her small hand pressed against the glass. "They think I killed all those people."
My heart froze.
She wailed a wild, mournful sound, shaking the walls. A whirlwind swept through the cell, whipping her hair and dress violently. She seemed unphased.
Then, the torrent came. As if a hurricane had broken out, rain began to pour from the ceiling, only inside the cell. The water rose rapidly, submerging her like a fish in a tank. Fists pounded the glass, her little body thrashing.
Trained or not, I couldn't watch a child drown. Panicked, my fingers poised over the keypad, ready to unlock the door, when a giggle echoed in the chamber.
There she stood, completely dry, nose to the glass, smiling. "I got you!"
It was going to be a long night.
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The Station Without Trains
Seen (1) At the far end of a desert highway stood a train station that no map acknowledged. There were no tracks leading to it, no schedules posted, and no trains that ever arrived. Still, every evening at sunset, the lights turned on. Maya found the station by accident while driving cross-country to escape a life that felt too heavy. Her radio had gone silent miles ago, and her phone showed no signal. When she saw the station glowing in the distance, she pulled over, relieved to find signs of life. The station was clean, almost untouched by time. Wooden benches lined the platform, and an old clock hung above the entrance, forever stuck at 6:40. The air smelled of dust and iron, like a place waiting to be used. “Hello?” Maya called. No answer. She sat on a bench, telling herself she would leave in five minutes. But as the sun disappeared, the lights grew warmer, softer. Calm settled over her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. A man in a conductor’s uniform stepped out from the shadows. His clothes looked old-fashioned, but neatly pressed. His face was kind, though tired. “You’re early,” he said. “Early for what?” Maya asked. “For the train,” he replied. Maya frowned. “There are no tracks.” The man smiled gently. “Not all journeys need them.” He explained that this station was a place between leaving and arriving—a pause for those who were lost, grieving, or running from something they couldn’t name. People didn’t come here on purpose. They arrived when they needed stillness. “Does the train ever come?” Maya asked. “Yes,” he said. “But only once for each person.” Maya felt a tightness in her chest. “Where does it go?” The conductor looked at the horizon. “To the life you stopped believing in.” Maya thought of the dreams she had abandoned, the version of herself she no longer recognized. Tears surprised her, sliding down her face without warning. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered. The conductor nodded. “That’s why the train hasn’t arrived.” They sat in silence as the stars appeared. For the first time in years, Maya didn’t feel the urge to run. She felt seen. Slowly, the station lights dimmed. The conductor stood. “When you leave,” he said, “you won’t remember this place. But you’ll remember how you felt.” A distant sound echoed—not a train horn, but something close to a heartbeat. Maya blinked. She was back in her car, parked on the side of the empty highway. The station was gone. The road stretched endlessly ahead. But her chest felt lighter. She turned the key and drove forward, not knowing exactly where she was going—but certain, for the first time, that she was finally on the right track.
By Do bol ho jaaye 4 days ago in Horror
Comments (10)
Yeah that was never going to be a good idea to open the door, seeing as she was able to control the weather...uh-oh! I like the concept of the super-soldier being a little girl, and one who's not only strong but also smart.
well written👌
Lol, I wonder what would have happened if he had already unlocked the door. Loved your story! It's so good to read your writing again. It's been so long!
A long night, indeed! great entry, Holly!
So scary, it definitely fits the spooky halloween vibe! Well done.😊
Oh, that's creepy. Excellent entry. Well done.
what an awesome piece Holly, welcome back, good to see ya writing again 😊😊
Cute and freaky! Wonderfully done.
So excited to see you back Holly! Exceptional writing as usual! This piece reminded me of the cult classic film from the 80s Firestarter! :)
Great entry to the Challenge 👍🏽