“How long is this train journey?”
“Long enough for me to have a well-deserved nap.” I said, smiling.
My friend stayed silent for a grand two minutes. Then, tapped me and asked, “Have you heard about the story of Train 73?”
“No”, I sighed. “Enlighten me.”
“The story of Train 73 is quite an unsettling one, if I do say so myself-”
“Hurry up before I fall asleep.”
“Okay okay, Train 73 is a train that takes the same line as this one…”
I was slightly nervous, but then I remembered the train was announced as Train 19 before it approached the platform. The number 19 was also on the side of the seats. There was nothing to worry about.
“…but once you step foot on the train you mustn’t make eye contact with any of the passengers or the ticket inspector. No matter what. Don’t listen to the voices. Don’t look up.”
“But you’re not really explaining why, you’re just saying don’t.”
“Let me finish. They say, if you look at the ticket inspector when he comes around, it seals your fate-”
She stared at me, annoyed, “Why are you laughing? This is based on true events.”
I couldn’t take her seriously, the story seemed so far-fetched, “Are there survivors?”
“That’s the thing, the train never made it to its destination. Can I continue? Before you interrupt again?”
I nodded.
“The passengers on Train 73 have never been seen again. The train conductor and the train itself has never been spotted either. How does a train just, disappear?”
“I think I’m going to take that nap now-” I started to feel uneasy, something wasn’t sitting right with me.
The air filled with a silent eeriness.
“No. You can’t. I’m going to the bathroom, when I come back, we’re finishing the story.”
“Fine.” I was waiting for her; I didn’t like being by myself.
Something felt off.
I heard the ticket inspector’s whistle. I got my ticket ready, I tried looking for my friend’s ticket too, so she could show it when she came back.
The silence that fell upon the carriage was awfully loud.
Each step he took echoed throughout the carriage.
Why was my friend taking so long?
The inspector stood a few feet away from me.
His hat shadowed over his face; I couldn’t make out his eyes. I didn’t see anyone getting their tickets ready, there was a man sitting a few seats away reading a newspaper. He held it high, I couldn’t see his face either.
The ticket inspector approached me and without a word, he put his hand out waiting for me to place my ticket in it. I was going to make some small talk to be polite, but I was interrupted by my friend’s voice.
“Look at the ticket inspector” was whispered into my ear.
I looked to my right, where was my friend?
“Look into his eyes”, she wasn’t to my left either.
“Look”
“Just look”
“Don’t be silly, the story isn’t real”
I looked up to the ticket inspector, his face had zero emotion, but I still couldn’t see his eyes.
“Remove the hat”
I don’t know what came over me, but I stood up, against my will, my arm seemed to have a mind of its own. I saw myself reaching for the inspector’s hat and taking it off from his head.
Time felt like it was in slow motion.
The pale carriage lights hit his face, I took a closer look, and his eyes were missing.
Two black, hollow abysses replaced what was meant to be his eyes.
I froze.
The fear that succumbed over me almost paralysed me.
Was I dreaming?
He stood still, motionless, like a statue.
I couldn’t fathom what was happening, nothing was making sense.
I needed to look for my friend.
The train was still moving, but there was an indescribable silence that filled the air.
I searched the carriage frantically, I looked around trying to see her, but every passenger’s face was somehow hidden.
The man reading the newspaper was slouched over in his seat, but his face was still in the newspaper. I approached him, to try and ask him where the bathroom was. I tapped him and he turned to look at me.
Empty eye sockets.
Dark and soulless.
Before I could move away, his cold hands grabbed my arm and I looked at his face to see a black, inky, thick substance pouring out of where his eyes used to be.
His grip on my arm was firm, I pried his fingers off me and backed into one of the train seats.
I noticed one of the stickers on the seats was peeling off, there was something else under the number 19.
I ripped it off.
73.
I grabbed my face in horror but felt something sticky.
Why was there black ink on my hands?