Dark Mysteries of Fate

It was just a normal day, until it wasn’t. The sunlight beamed viciously through the kitchen blinds, reflecting on the marble counter. I had the window slightly open, letting in some stale morning air. It hit my face like the cold crisp steel of an axe. It caught my attention; I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t help but shudder when I noticed the paper that hung loosely on the window ledge. I grabbed the paper and forcefully slammed the window shut. Having the window open suddenly made me feel uneasy and over exposed. Unsafe. Unhinged.

Something was watching, waiting. I stared down at the text until I felt my eyes would bleed if I didn’t look away. There was something about the text. I felt it ripping into my soul, taking a blood-stained seat in the forefront of my mind. It was all I could focus on.

“Charlene, you have been chosen” I glared at the letters. How the hell did it have my name on it? I turned it over, accidently slitting my finger on the bottom corner. There was nothing but an address, no explanation. The blood began to pour down my finger, I helplessly let out a slight gasp. I couldn’t help but notice where my bloody fingerprint had stained the paper. The word “chosen” was perfectly shadowed by blood. I had a sense that something was reaching out to me and pulling me into its darkness. A mysterious force was compelling me to follow the trail. I gave into the unexpected impulse, I let curiosity take over my body.
Without a second thought, I hopped onto the next bus that went to the other end of town. It was almost as if I had suddenly lost control over my body, the control had been given to something else. A feeling of deep dread crept into my body and spread miserably into my veins. The urge to visit this place was becoming overwhelming. But still, there was no backing out of this now. I had to know who had chosen me and what for. I tapped my finger nervously on my seat thinking of nothing but my own fate. Then, I arrived.

The whole journey was somewhat of a conscious blur. The place I had been sent to by something far greater than me. The town’s local abandoned train station? How strange! I walked a few steps further to investigate, listening to the sound of the worn concrete scratching against my boots. There was nothing before me, just an echo of what used to be. Broken tiled walls, a dusty rail track and the absence of light. But then, there it was. A train, unlike any other train I’d seen before. It was a vintage train with the word “pullman” written across it. These types of trains weren’t in use by the public, how did it get here? Without having the chance to process a 1930’s pullman train appearing, the tough steel doors widened, inviting me inside.

What are you doing? Do not get on a train in an abandoned station! I ignored my thoughts, forcing myself to take each step until it was too late. I was hit by the overwhelming smell of dusty metal and human sweat. Wait, I wasn’t alone.

‘Another passenger? Great. Welcome aboard the ghost train or whatever the fuck this is,’ a strong male voice muttered behind me.

‘What is this? Have I been kidnapped or something?’ I asked the people before me. From what I could see, there were around a handful of people on the train. But maybe there were more on a different carriage. My heart fluttered with relief when I realised I wasn’t being forced to go through this terrifying experience alone. Perhaps we would get some answers soon. I heard the screech of the train colliding against the metal tracks, we were on the move.

‘Don’t ask us. We have been racking our brains trying to figure out what the hell this is! I was doing some shopping when I dropped my purse and came here. I had no control over it! It was like something had possessed me,’ a frail old lady said, her voice hardly above a whisper. She looked overly nervous, even more so than me.

This cannot be happening. I ran my fingers through my hair, ruffling it up anxiously. Something had to be going on here, something sinister. Before I had the chance to think any further, a light flashed on the train triggering my full attention. It seemed to be some sort of message.

‘Hey guys, look,’ the man from earlier said, shaking his finger apprehensively at the red text on the screen.

It read:
“All passengers are on board, let’s begin. Get ready for the worst ride of your life.”
It flashed for a few seconds and disappeared. It resembled disfigured text on a broken computer screen.

‘Well, that’s some freaky shit. Who do y’all think is controlling this thing?’ The same man called out.

‘I don’t know but we are in this thing together. We should start with our names, right? I mean that’s the polite thing to do. I’m Mary and I’m 72. Anyone else wanna introduce themselves?’ Mary suggested politely.

‘Whatever, if y’all think it will help. The name’s Jonas, I’m a 28 year old cab driver. Who else we got in here?’ Jonas replied, his glare suddenly focused on me.

‘I’m… well, I’m Charlene. I’m 30 this year. And I have no idea where I am or what’s going on.’ I blurted out, sharing more than I intended to.

‘None of us do darlin’. We still tryna figure this shit out. Anyone else got anything to say before this creepy ass train gets even creepier?’ Jonas said, his sassy look and confidence radiating in my direction. But nothing could make me feel safe, not even a confident stranger.

‘I’m Stephen and I’m freaking the hell out right now. This feels like one of those twisted horror movies,’ a timid voice crept up.

I smiled at everyone awkwardly and took another look around, realising that I hadn’t bothered to get my bearings. I noticed the posters were peeling from the walls but they didn’t seem as old as the train. Wait, did pullman trains even have posters? I knew they were for first class passengers decades ago but I didn’t get how one ended up in this station. How was it still running? And where the hell was the final stop? I noticed the blue velvet cushioned seats and the varnished sepia wooden walls. The wooden panelling was beginning to show its age as some of it was oxidised along the bottom.

This was definitely luxurious. How someone got hold of a train like this was a mystery to me. It was the sort of thing that would be a part of an exhibit in museums. They continued to introduce themselves, but their voices became just a fragment of noise in my mind. Something else was taking up my head space. An eerie feeling washed over me like a rush of terrifying adrenalin, preparing me for the worst. I looked up at one of the peeling posters, it was an old movie advertisement from the 1930’s.

It had the tagline “sometimes, even our pockets hold secrets”. The words rung in my mind like blood splattered church bells. Your pockets. I walked to a quiet corner of the train, where nobody’s eyes were on me. I unzipped my pocket in my new leather jacket and felt something in there. I’ve never worn this before so how could something be in the pocket? It felt like a scrunched-up piece of paper, so I pulled it out to look. It was a piece of paper that wasn’t there before, but how?

It had perfectly written typewriter text on it, I held it closer to my eyes to ensure I was reading it correctly. “No matter what happens, you must survive. At all costs.” I read it over and over in my mind, but the words wouldn’t process. I must survive what? The dim lights went out, it went pitch black. I had no choice but to welcome the darkness.