Ghost Train
Stuart Smith
Ghost Train
Stuart Smith
Copyright 2014 Stuart Smith
Ghost Train
1
A thick mist hung in the air surrounding the train tracks on highway 323. There was a fresh dusting of snow on the ground and the night seemed to grow colder with each passing minute. I could faintly make out the head light of the train that was fast approaching. The only thought in my head as the light drew nearer was of the ghost train.
When the light was nearly upon me I began moving myself closer to the tracks. I had taken to hiding myself in the small thicket of trees that were near the road crossing. I pushed a few branches to one side and started forward. As I did so my foot caught a patch of ice on the ground and I tumbled face first into the snow. My face struck the ground with such force that a bump began to immediately form on my lip. I could taste a warm trickle of blood in my mouth, which I spat out as I regained my feet.
I took a quick inventory of myself, once I was satisfied that I wasn’t too injured I looked back up at the tracks. The train was now gone and the mist was beginning to dissipate. I could hear the wail of its horn sounding in the distance as it came upon a crossing. I proceeded to smack myself in the forehead and curse my unlucky fall to the earth.
I slowly made my way back to my car and drove home. Perhaps tomorrow night would be the night. In any event I knew that I would keep returning until it was the right time.
2
I had seen the train once before, as a child, and had begun habitually coming back to this spot. A few nights a week gave way to most nights and eventually every night. I had to see it again. I had to know that it was truly what I had seen. I had to know that I wasn’t just… crazy…
The mist was thicker tonight than it was yesterday. Once I was ten yards from where I parked my car I turned to find that it could no longer be seen. I faced back towards the tracks, zipped my jacket up and started for the trees. I felt my way to my normal lookout spot and waited.
Sitting with my back against my usual tree I let my mind drift back to that night I first saw the train. My father had taken me out to this very spot, telling me of the time that he had first seen the train as a boy.
He had come out here with my grandfather to investigate what one of the locals had called a ghost train. My father relayed to me that a dozen people saw the train and only one had escaped to tell others about it. When my grandfather heard of it he set off at once to get to the bottom of things.
When my father and grandfather came upon the train a mist started to pour out of the engine and my grandfather grabbed my father and ran. They never went back, and they never heard of the train again.
Until my father and I came back out to see if the train still rolled on these tracks. We waited most of the night with nothing but a cargo train passing us around midnight. We were about to give up and move on when we heard a faint whistle in the distance. We turned our heads in unison and we both knew the ghost train was nearly upon us.
Much like my fathers first encounter the ghost train was pouring steam from its engine as it slowed to a stop in front of us. My father told me to stay put and he made his was up to the train. He felt his way around the engine and slipped into the first open car that he found. Minutes passed like hours, I started to feel anxious.
When I couldn’t stand it any longer I made a break for the train. I called my fathers name as loud as I could. That’s when I heard him scream. It was a blood-curdling scream that chilled me to my very core. I stopped where I was, unable to move. The next scream from my father told me to run, so I did. I ran until I was home, safe with my mother. I told her what happened, then we told the police. There was a full investigation, but my father hadn’t been seen since.
My trance broke as I saw the faint glow of a train’s headlight. Unlike the night before the train was going at a crawl. I stood intently in my spot, wiped a tear from my cheek and waited for the train to get to me. The wait seemed like ages, but in all the train took ten minutes to reach where I was.
As it was passing right in front of the trees I could hear the train squealing and groaning as it came to a stop. I stood still and waited until it came to a full stop before stepped out of the trees. The engine let out a blast of steam with a hiss as it settled into place. The sound quickly faded, leaving only silence to hang in the air.
I crept closer still to the train that was looking hazy to my eyes at a mere ten feet. I held out one hand as I inched closer. In my head I was hoping that my hand would pass through the steel of the cars and in my heart I was fully disappointed when it struck the side of the train.
Once again, I walked back to my car with my head hanging down.
3
It was harder than usual to drag myself out of the house this evening. My heart is beginning to feel as though I will never see the ghost train. Perhaps this endeavor is all for naught. It may take eons for the train to come back to this spot; it may be that I am crazy after all.
With that said, I came out once again and perched in my usual spot. I can hear a horn sound off in the distance and a headlight is starting to appear in the darkness. There is very little fog out tonight, only a light mist hovering just above the ground. The sound of the horn is drawing ever nearer and the light is closing in on my hiding spot.
Tonight’s train is really moving along. I am certain that at this rate of speed, this train will not be my ghost train. As it makes its way past I hear another horn sounding off in the distance.
I smile and fall back amongst the trees. What a night! Two trains! Perhaps this is my lucky night after all.
I wait for the train to show. I keep hearing the whistle sounding but it seems as though it is barely drawing nearer to my position. There is a faint light up ahead on the tracks but that too seems to be advancing at a crawl. There is something amiss with the color of the light as well. It appears to have more of a red tint as opposed to its usual yellow glow.
I am not sure if I should step out from the safety of the thicket or stay put. The train is advancing so slowly that it may not get to me before daybreak. I look back down the track and the train looks as though it is now travelling in reverse, as the light is starting to fade away once again.
I drop myself back into the trees with a sigh and stare out at the tracks. Just as I thought all was lost I hear the horn sound once again. It sounds so close! The train must be only a short distance from me now!
I spring forth from the trees and hurry over to the tracks. The light is closer as well, although it is now a purplish green color, and there seems to be a thick mist that is emanating from the train. The mist is growing thicker and thicker as it crawls near. I can hear the brakes of the train engaging as it nears where I now stand.
The train is coming to a full stop directly in front of me. It lets out a hiss as steam burst out of the engine. Fear comes over me as I stand in awe looking up at the train. Without even touching it I know this is the ghost train.
After what seemed like hours I found that I was able to regain control of my legs and walk up to the train. I put one hand out and it passed right through the train. A shiver ran up my spine and I was tempted to run back to my car and never return. I know, however, that with so many years vested in this mission, I have to see it through to the end.
I gather what is left of my courage and press on. First I make my way around the engine, then each car in succession until I had walked the length of the train. Each car was the same as the engine. Just as my hand had passed through it, my hand passed through each and every car. There is not a solid part to this train!
Every inch of the train glistens as though it has just been painted. Every wheel looks like it has just been polished. The mist that pours from the train has grown quite
thick by this point and the cars are getting harder to see. I should make my way back to the engine of the train.
There I find that the mist has become even thicker and the train seems to have grown in size. As I stand here in awe the door to the first car behind the engine swings open and beckons me forward. I feel as though I have lost all control of my legs as I move towards to open car. A voice in my head begins screaming to me that I should stop and run, but I know in my heart that I am too far-gone now. I have to see this through, I had to find my father.
After I entered the train the door slammed shut behind me, leaving me in the darkness. As I fumbled along the wall, looking for some type of switch a thought struck me. How could the walls of this car be solid when not ten minutes prior my hands had passed through them?
A chill swept through my body but I pressed on. It was as though something had stirred in me, something that had to see what was at the bottom of all of this. I felt like I had no control of my body as I walked further into the train.
Each car that I passed through was empty of any life. There were beautiful seats and tables, each of which was decorated with lavish, gold trimmed dinnerware, as if it was time for dinner and the food cart would soon be making its rounds.
I passed from the fifth cart to the sixth and suddenly I began to hear music. It started out very faint, but as I passed from the ninth to the tenth car it became much more noticeable. It sounded like someone was playing piano. I couldn’t quite pick out the tune but the sound itself made the desire within me burn brighter. I began to run through the cars, forgetting all about my father and thinking only of the music. The sound kept getting louder and louder as I passed through the next twenty cars.
As I stepped into the next to the last car on the train I slowed my pace. I knew that on the other side of this last door was the music and whoever was making it. I placed my face up against the glass of the door but all that I could make out was a shadowy figure. My hand reached for the door handle and I turned it.
The lock tumbled with an audible click and the music stopped. The figure moved from it sitting position and floated to the door. I pushed the door open and found myself face to face with the ghost-like figure of my father. Tears filled my eyes as we stood looing at each other. My father smiled and uttered one word, “Finally.”
Suddenly the figure flew apart into a thousand different pieces. I stepped further into the room and saw all of the particles of my father floating around me. I took a deep breath; I could feel the figures remains enter my body.
I took a seat at the piano as the rest of the particles fell to the floor. As I began to play the train started to move, with each note it moved faster and faster, until it had reached its maximum speed.
Once the train was running smoothly I stood up and walked back through the length of the train. When I entered the first car I found a conductors hat sitting on one of the tables. I picked it up and placed it upon my head. I had only wanted to see the ghost train again, but now it was all mine.
END.
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About the Author
Stuart Smith is a full time student at Full Sail University. He lives in Montana with his wife and two children. He spends all of his free time writing, so be sure to check back here for new books coming soon!
