The Train Station of Bury

In the dead of night, children are going missing without a trace and are never heard from again. Where are they going? To catch a train.

She woke up gasping, clawing at her blanket and trying desperately to free herself from its clutches. Her eyes pan back and forth, searching for the monster, the demon. Her room is dark and uninviting. Almost dangerous. Not a room that you’d fall in asleep easily. In her hand, she clutches a plush rabbit so tightly the button eyes are almost popping off. She doesn't feel she's safe. Her breathing becomes slow and quiet, almost unnoticeable, eventually being held all together. She’s waiting.

 A few minutes pass, and nothing steps out of the dark corners. No gnarled hand reaches out to grab her blonde pigtails. It had been a nightmare. She relaxes her grip on Bonnie. Just a stupid nightmare. As she lets her shoulders slump she pauses to think and scrunches her nose up in confusion. Had last night been a dream too? Gently she reaches over to touch her right arm, and winces. Nope. Definitely not a dream. 

Still wary, she scooches across the floor to lean against the wall. Propped up, she begins a very similar routine that she follows on nights like this one. Laser in on one corner. 1,2,3,4,5. Switch to the right. 1,2,3,4,5. Why had she woken up? 1,2,3,4,5. When it happens, no, he happens, she falls deep asleep. Tries to gain back strength. Tries to forget. Why had she so suddenly been pulled out of the much-needed slumber? 1,2,3,4,5. A noise. It was decidedly a noise. Some noise in the back of her mind that stirred her thoughts into a nightmare. 1,2,3,4,5. But what was it? A car? An animal? An evil presence blending in with the darkness? She couldn’t be certain. 1,2,3- 

Her muscles tense suddenly and her eyes dart to the small window. It’s back. A high-pitched, long blow that echoes throughout the otherwise quiet street. Scrambling to her feet, she nearly trips over her pillow as she rushes to the window. It is the blow of a train whistle. It’s not possible. How could it be possible? But she hears it again and freezes. Follow. A young voice says softly, like a cold wind whispering into her ear. It’s not hers, but she doesn’t flinch or turn around. Her hands start to tremble, holding on to the rabbit for dear life. In a second her eyes glaze over. She has to leave. Now.

                                               .......................................

“Truth or dare?” Sherry asked. Her emerald eyes sparkled with mischief as she waited for her answer.

“Ummm…” The girl sitting across from her hesitated and bit her lip, trying her best to focus on anything but her. A chorus of laughter and “Come on Carla!”s filled Sherry’s pink bedroom. In a circle on her carpeted floor sat a group of boys and girls, hand-picked by Sherry Middleton herself. Every kid in the 6th grade had been hoping, dreaming of an invitation to her exclusive birthday party. Only the upper tier were handed the cream white envelope, signed with the famous curved S. Needless to say, Charlie had absolutely no idea why he was here. He sat hugging his knees to his chest at the foot of her king-sized bed. Observing, but not quite partaking. He shouldn’t have come. He didn’t want to, really. But his mom had insisted that he go, insisted that it would be a good way to expand his “social circle”. Which, by the way, currently had Charlie as the sole member. This was only one of the factors that caused much confusion when he was invited. But who was to question Sherry? Her spontaneity was what drew others to her in the first place.

“Dare,” Carla said, trying to put on a brave face. Sherry’s grin widened, which caused many bouts of laughter to follow. Even Charlie realized a faint grin was pulling at the corners of his mouth. She was contagious. 

“Great,” Sherry replied. She got to her knees and crawled over to Carla so that she was only an inch from her face. Her voice lowered and they strained to hear her better. “I dare you to kiss Dylan.” Immediately the room exploded. You could hear mock gagging, squeals of laughter and protests from Dylan.

“What?” Carla asked, her confident expression now replaced with surprise.

“You heard me,” Sherry said, butting out her bottom lip and putting on a face of faux concern. “Or are you too chicken?” Carla paused for a moment and thought this over. You couldn’t cut the tension in the room with a steak knife. All eyes were wide open. Carla opened her mouth, and closed it again, before finally looking her in the eye defiantly.

“Of course not,” Before Dylan could even move, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pecked his lips quickly. Again, the room descended into chaos. Girls were shrieking and Carla was almost in tears from laughter. Dylan was practically purple. Charlie sat in the corner in awe. No, he wasn’t that shocked at the bravado of the dare. In fact, he had kind of expected it at her party. He was more impressed with how Sherry could do that. Almost control another person. An entire scenario had played out as she had wanted. She looked on calmly now, as Charlie had expected. However, she had an odd look on her face as she observed Carla. Respect. Charlie realized Carla had earned her respect. And suddenly, the emerald eyes were on him, and her expression changed. Her eyes almost sparkled. She had found her next victim. Waiting for the laughter to die down she kept her eyes locked on his. When he tried to look away, she spoke.

“Charlie,” Just like that, the room was silent and 15 pairs of eyes on him. “Truth or dare?” Charlie looked around timidly and put a hand on his chest.

“Me?” Sherry giggled girlishly, and some chuckles followed. However, most were thinking the same thing. Him? Sherry was asking him?

“Who else would I be talking to? Come here. Closer,” Charlie crawled forward, confused, but also frightened. What was she going to ask him? What was he going to say? He was right across from her, and she kept her gaze on him. Like a cat stalking her prey. Charlie flushed as she continued to watch him. She was awfully pretty. Had her hair always been that shiny? A moment passed and she batted her dark eyelashes and grinned again. 

“Charlieeee. You gotta answer the question. Truth or dare?” Her voice was almost sickly sweet.

“Oh. Um….” Charlie made out, starting to chew on his lip. “Truth?” Kids around him immediately groaned. Of course, he had to pick the boring option. What else were they expecting? But Charlie didn’t notice them. His attention was kept on Sherry, trying to read her reaction. Her face fell, disappointed, and Charlie hated that. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to respect him.

“Okay, if you say so-”

“Dare!”  He blurted out. They all turned back to look at him. Was he going to go through with it? “I-i pick dare.” Even Sherry looked surprised. She certainly hadn't expected this from the meek red-head. Her interest was piqued. She looked around, trying her best to dream up a dare fit for Charlie. All of a sudden, her eyes lit up. She had it.

“I dare you to go to the old train station and bring me back a piece of chipping paint from the building. So that we know you were really there,” It was quiet for a second before murmurs started to pass rapidly from ear to ear. Every kid in Bury knew about the train station. Once it was what had made Bury. Goods and people were transported practically every day, allowing the small town to stay connected with the rest of the world. Allowing the town to thrive. Until one day, during the war, the children of Bury were sent off on the train to the countryside. Sent to safety. It wasn’t until many weeks later that the townsfolk found the train cars mysteriously abandoned on the tracks. Inside were their children. Dead. The tracks closed, but the stories were only beginning. The tales are passed down to children in hushed tones, under blankets and around campfires. Forgotten children, all alone, are called by the conductor in the dead of night to the ghost train. What happens next varies from story to story. They are either run over or taken by the ghost children or even murdered in cold blood. One thing is for certain, the children are never seen again. Every kid in Bury knows about the train station. Specifically, they know to stay away.

“C’mon Sherry. Are you really gonna make him do it?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, I mean, none of us had to do anything like that,” Vanessa added softly, trying not to offend her. On any other night, Charlie would have agreed with them, relieved by their kindness and sensibility. But tonight was different. He was going to earn her respect. 

“No,” He said, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll go.”

                                                ........................................

It was eerily quiet as she made her way through the thick forest. Normally, she avoided it altogether, despite the appealing shortcut. She just couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk the monsters. Couldn’t risk the danger. Now? It didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. She went on at a moderate pace, her eyes blank and face expressionless. She looked unbothered. Calm, even. If you could listen in on the conversations though, the ones taking place inside her head, you would hold an entirely different perspective. The voice she had heard before had guided her onto the path, whispering that it would be the quickest way. They needed that. To be quick. She had asked it why? Where were they going? Silly girl. It laughed. Isn’t it obvious? As they went on, more started to join the chorus of childish voices. Though slightly bothersome and jocose at first, they become more and more agitated. As if they were running out of time. Press on! They yelled. Make haste! 

So she went. She stepped over rotting logs and pushed away overhanging branches. She passed pairs of eyes peering at her from the darkness and ignored cries of nearby animals. It was as if she wasn’t aware of what was happening around her, or if she was, she simply chose not to care. Nothing would deter her. As she walked on, the voices became more restless. She’s not going to make it! How will she make it! A high-pitched girl screeched into her ear. Yes, she will. You’ll see. Another assured, though sounding unsure themselves. They ushered her to walk faster. Her bare feet started to ache. She knew that more than one splinter had broken through her flesh. Of course, they wouldn't care what happened to her, so she ignored it herself. She could hear them breathe a sigh of relief when the trees broke into a clearing, and the path opened into a vast field. Even though she couldn’t seem to string together thoughts properly, something did becoming evidently clear. She was heading to the train station. 

No. She couldn’t keep going. She knew what would happen if she made it. Desperately, she willed her feet to stop. Begged them to turn around and go home. But it wasn’t up to her. It seemed nothing was anymore. Still determined, she clenched her hands into fist and closed her eyes, trying to block out the noise. She managed to dig her toes into the mud and it was silent for a moment. Until it all came rushing back. The voices returned, but almost ten times as loud and angered. They started yelling, and then screaming, until they coalesced into one unearthly screech. She clamped her hands over her ears, trying to make it all go away. It just got worse. A gust of cold wind burst out from behind her, sending her off about ten meters into the air before she landed on her hands and knees. Not waiting, she stood and ran. Her hands stung. Her eyes pricked with tears. But having learnt the consequences, she ran. 

Just as quickly, she stopped. She didn’t mean to stop, but it seems that something else had decided for her. Across the tracks, in the middle of the dry field, she stood in front of the train station. It was surprisingly small. Never having seen it herself, she was almost confused. About 20 square meters, the once burgundy paint was peeling off of the sides of the building, and the roof had a gaping hole. It was old, yes. But not menacing like the stories had told. Still, the girl was terrified. What would happen to her next? The tales ended here, no one really knowing what happened to the lonely children. It was silent. The voices had done their job. They’d gotten her here, and now, they too were waiting. She looked around her and saw nothing approaching her. No one coming to get her and take her away. Suddenly, she had almost a revelation. Maybe they were letting her go. Maybe they had made a mistake. Maybe they were setting her free. Could this really be the end of her terrifying ordeal? Tentatively, she turned from the train station and towards the rusting tracks. I mean, it was worth a shot. The universe was giving her a chance. Why shouldn't she take it? Slowly, she walked forward, wondering if some force was going to try to stop her. But nothing did. Feeling brave, she even stopped dead in the middle of the tracks, looked back at the train station and smiled weakly. This was going to be one interesting story. Turning her head back, she stopped suddenly, looking up the tracks. Her eyes went wide. 

The last thing she saw were headlights racing towards her. 

                                                 ........................................

His confident demeanor had all but disappeared when he reached the end of Sherry’s street. After he'd left he had quickly realized the reality of what he was about to do. This isn't something that would be easy. Or safe. Her living at the edge of town, he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he reached the haunted train station. In 10, 15 minutes, he’d be there. His heart was racing. It was hard to focus on where he was going because the sound of blood coursing through his veins occupied  his thoughts. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Why had he agreed to do this? He had so many chances to change his mind. To go back. They had all stood at Sherry’s doorstep to see him off, watching him disappear into the night. No one would’ve been surprised if he decided not to go through with it. But when he turned around at the foot of her driveway he saw her looking. Watching what he would do next. So now, he was here. He tried to remember exactly where to go. He had seen the train station twice before, but he could only vaguely make out how to get there. I mean, it’s really not something you want to remember. Rather, you try your best to forget.

The night was deadly quiet. As it was nearing 10, most of the curtains were drawn and cars were parked in their driveways for the night. Bury definitely isn’t known for its bustling nightlife. As Charlie came closer and closer to the edge of the suburbs, his nerves worsened. His mind was spinning. As he walked the street lamps and houses started to grow bigger, and the shadows became longer and had distinct shapes. Charlie abruptly sat on the curb and put his head on his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. Get it together Charlie. His hands in fists, he dug his nails into his palms, and thoughts started to string themselves together just a little bit better. He could still turn back. It wasn’t too late. But deep down, he knew that it was. He took a deep breath, held it, and then let it whoosh out quickly. His legs shook when he stood, but he continued to walk further and further from safety.

His pace was brisk. It was better to get it over with, right? The houses started to appear less frequently and close together as he went on, letting him know that he was nearing closer to the western edge of Bury. At the end of Birchfield Brook the road stopped altogether, and opened up to a dry field. Though once used as farmland, it was almost useless now. The only thing that grew were prickly weeds that scraped at your legs when you tried to make your way passed them. The field was huge. Charlie could see it all the way to the horizon, and he was sure that it stretched much farther than that. Not too far on the right a thick and dark forest took up most of your view. To the left of Charlie he could see a very distant highway, dotted with car lights so tiny they looked like specks of dust. The sky was hazy and dark, covered with nimbostratus clouds. He knew that at the end of his view, where the field met the menacing sky, the train tracks were waiting for him.

Fearing a storm, Charlie put on a brave face and stepped forward. His walk through the field was solemn and quiet. The only sound he heard was the yellow grass crunching beneath his feet and his heard beating rapidly. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. What was he going to find when he reached the end? He had been here before, yes, but on brief occasions passing through to get to Fairy Lake. Both times it had been on class trips, and kids had squealed with nervous laughter as they passed the station. Both times the hair on the back of his neck stood. Both times he had felt that something was off. And this was in broad daylight. Would he even end up falling asleep in his own bed tonight? Charlie honestly didn’t know. He gasped when his foot suddenly hit metal. 

He had reached the tracks. They looked pretty much the same as before. The metal was covered in rust, and the wooden boards were cracked and splintering. Though spooky, they weren’t the main attraction. In front of him, the train station. A shiver went up his spine and he instantly wanted to turn back. He just had an immensely strong feeling that he needed to leave, right now. But spotting paint practically falling off the walls reminded him why he was here. His task wasn't over yet. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this. Carefully, he stepped over the tracks. He was going to reach for an old part of the building and peel it off real fast. Like ripping off a band-aid. That was the plan. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this. He saw a big chunk of burgundy and chose it as his target. Terrified, he closed his eyes tightly as he grabbed it. It felt rough, yet very thin and almost crumbling in his hand. He tore it off. Just when he did, a draft of cold air went up his back, causing his hair to stand straight up. He gasped. Behind him he could hear the whispers of conversation. He could hear mischievous giggling. Charlie wasn't alone. It was frightening to even think of turning around, but at some point his feet decided for him as he was spun to face them. Surrounding him were around 70 boys and girls, all between the ages of 7 and 14. A good amount wore old-fashioned clothing and haircuts, though he could see styles of various eras, including his own. All of them were faint. Almost see through. Charlie couldn’t move. He could hardly breath. Though he knew he had to do something, his mind had almost completely left him. It was like he wasn’t in control anymore. Like he was stuck. The children were looking at him, smiling and laughing. Every so often they all would take a step forward and Charlie couldn’t do more than tremble and wait. At this point he started to fade in and out of consciousness. His eyes would close and then open again, as if Charlie was trying to escape a nightmare that wouldn’t let him wake up. He tried to fight it off and force his eyes open when he stopped and questioned what he was doing. Why couldn’t he just go to sleep? He’d wake up and it would all just go away. Falling asleep actually seemed to be one of the best options he had right now. He’d go to sleep and this would all just be a distant memory in the morning.  As he was about to lie down and drift off, a cold hand spun him around. He was facing a girl, one of them. She was shimmering and almost unreal, but she looked strangely familiar and also scared. Like she was in danger. She had on a white night-gown that reached her knees, and her feet were bare and covered in mud. Her hair was placed into pigtails that were once carefully tied up, but now falling apart. In her other hand she held a plush yellow rabbit.

It’s not safe here Charlie. She told him, even though he didn’t see her lips move. You have to run.

Author's Note

This isn't great, but at least I finished what I started LOL. Please give me feedback I'm desperate! Thank you so much for reading this! (Don't be afraid to be very critical!)

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

You did a good job with this story. It's scary as hell. I really like Charlie and found the other kids interesting and it seemed very realistic. Especially Sherry. The very beginning, I was distracted by the unnamed girl worrying about past nightmares, worrying about monsters and "him." I am very curious who "he" is and I never find out. And I got side tracked, thinking the past nightmares, monsters and "him" were relevant, which they really aren't. The basic premise is fantastic, and your execution very good. I found one tiny technical problem with the sentence, "Her interest was peaked." It was piqued, not peaked. Other that than that, technically this was an excellent piece, following all grammar rules (which shows respect for your readers) and no spelling mistakes. Very good story!

[Victoria]

Thank you so much! Your review was very helpful and encouraging! I didn't reveal who "he" was yet because I was thinking if I ever wanted to continue this story the readers could discover more about her past later on. Her past is important because only children who feel completely alone and forgotten are "called". So in that way, I guess the beginning is kind of relevant to the story, but I realize it doesn't make much sense. Also, I don't know why I thought it was peaked and not piqued haha. Thank you again!

[SweetNutmeg]

If you write more, I will definitely read it!