Six months have passed since my world shattered right before my eyes. They say time heals everything and is supposed to help with grief, but that hasn’t been the case with me. I lost my husband and my mother on the way back from our court wedding. With no friends or family present, a court wedding felt like the obvious choice. On that day, my mother gifted my husband a watch that had been passed down through generations from my grandmother to my father. It was supposed to be the best day of my life, but it quickly turned into the worst.
A drunk driver found us just as we were about to pull up to our street. I was the only one wearing a seatbelt that day; my husband was driving, and my mother was in the backseat. Safety had always been a priority for me, but I wish I hadn’t been so cautious that day. I wish I had died with them; it would have been better than being alive and alone. Everyone expects so much from me, and I still need to sort out the paperwork that I’ve put off for a long time.
And that’s how I found myself in my family’s ancestral home—an ancient house that has been in our family for generations. I used to spend all my summers there, and everything about the house used to excite me. There were numerous places to explore and hide away in; it felt like a constantly changing maze with new rooms and hidden corridors to discover every other day.
I decided to start the cleaning process from the attic, where many treasured items, such as photographs, were kept. As I went through the photographs one by one, I came across one of myself with my mother, and the pain hit me like a train. I desperately wanted to hold her once again, just one more time, to talk to her and find some closure. But I was too much of a coward to attempt suicide.
Amidst my exploration in the attic, I stumbled upon a chest containing my toys and some other knick-knacks. While going through the chest, I discovered an old, crusty-looking book I had never seen before. Upon reading its pages, I found a section titled: “Soul-Bound Express.” It appeared to be a diary entry—a tale about the legend of a train that could reunite a person with their loved one. It seemed like a children’s fairy tale, yet the story brought comfort to me in a way that I cannot explain.
After that day, I couldn’t get the thought of that train out of my head. It was the only thing I could focus on, so naturally, I decided to scour the internet for information about this legend. I stumbled upon a forum that had a post regarding this mysterious train. My excitement grew as I read about the encounters of online users with this train that seemed to connect the living with the dead. However, I was still a bit skeptical about this entire phenomenon. For all I knew, it could be a hoax, just another conspiracy enthusiast’s dream. But still, if this thing was real, it could offer a chance to get my old life back.
There were some people who shared really harrowing details and others who absolutely wanted to go back. I messaged every single one of them, asking for a way to get to that train, but all my messages were left unanswered. Until one fateful night, a user privately messaged me, asking if I was interested in knowing about his tale. He, too, had lost a loved one and was in search of this train. He, like me, was on this forum to find a way to access this train. He shared that not long ago, somebody had shared a secret to get to that train.
It sounded like a ritual, and I was guessing it would be something like that. To get to the train, you had to reach a deserted train station exactly at 1 AM. There was a trick after this; you needed to have an ancient relic for the train to appear before your eyes. The relic had to be of sentimental value and look like an ordinary everyday object. The relic’s name was “soul watch,” and at 1 AM, you had to look at the time on the watch and say the words: and so, it begins.” The user also shared a sketch of this relic, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that it was my husband’s watch – my family watch that had been passed down for generations. This solidified my faith that I was meant to go on this path.
I quickly exchanged numbers with the anonymous user, whose name turned out to be Mark. He was quite reserved and only talked when necessary. We realized that we needed to think about which train station we would carry out our mission. After some suggestions, we decided on one two towns over – a place abandoned long ago, with railway tracks, but no train routes passing through anymore. Mark had to fly in because he did not live in this part of the country.
Mark was about 6 ft tall, wearing a long black coat with black jeans and shirt. He was around his fifties and had an aura around him that made you feel safe; I was glad I wasn’t going to be alone on this unusual journey. Looking back, I should have been a bit more skeptical, but even if the chance was very small, I had to take it. We quickly decided to bring only some first aid supplies, one extra pair of clothes, and some canned food. Then we left for the station.
We reached the station at about 12 AM. Mark was again very quiet, but the silence was not awkward; he seemed like one of those people you could exist with without uttering a single word. At 12:55 AM, he asked me to take out the watch so that we could both hold it at the same time. I obliged. At 1 AM, we both said, as rehearsed, “and so it begins.” Nothing happened. I was very disappointed. I looked at Mark, and he was grinning and pointing in the distance. I saw a light approaching us. Suddenly, the air changed, and everything became so silent that I could even hear my heart beating. Then the train approached; it made no sound, which is unusual for a train, but then again, this was an unusual train. The gate opened, and we both entered. A lady greeted us, smiling, but there was something wrong with her expression, giving an unsettling feeling. She welcomed us, took our coats, and asked if we wanted some drinks. Mindlessly, we said yes, and she provided us with champagne and cheese. She then left and came back with two forms, asking us to fill them.
The forms required some basic information like names, parents’ addresses, and the time of death and relation to the deceased. I quickly filled mine out and handed the form back. She then provided me with a token that said “cabin 13M.” Mark had one too, but I couldn’t see the cabin number on his. She then asked me to follow her and forbade Mark to follow us. I really didn’t want that, but again, I obliged because I did not know what else to do. She led me to a red door; it seemed quite ominous, but then again, what else was I expecting? She asked before entering if I had brought anything; it was time to part ways with it. There was a cabinet on the right side, and I put my bag in there. I also had the watch, but I did not want to leave it, so I kept it in my pocket and decided not to draw attention to it.
When I nodded that I was ready, she motioned for the door to open, and it did. It was so bright, actually white, and I couldn’t see a single thing. She told me I could enter through the door now. I took my first step, and at first, I felt relaxed and light. Oddly enough, it reminded me of the garden I used to play in at my childhood home. This safe feeling stayed for a moment until a sudden gloom could be felt. The train was magnificent, a visual far from what you would expect from a train that supposedly bridged the gap between life and death.
I walked along the corridor, feeling giddy and curious as I reached the first cabinet, which read 1-A. Giggles, laughter, and praises were heard inside, seemingly addressed to another person in the cabinet. A wave of relief washed over me; the laughter and giggles gave me a feeling of reassurance. I opened the cabinet door, longing to be assured by human presence in this unfamiliar place. Inside, I saw a boy who seemed to be of college age, wearing a long blue coat and a white knitted sweater underneath, with denim pants. His body was lean yet fit, and he had an aura that made you feel comfortable with him, even though you might not know each other. He was crouched down, looking fondly at something, which I couldn’t see as the boy was blocking it. Eventually, the boy moved a bit to the right, still crouched down, and I saw a golden retriever. It was glowing; the golden color of its fur shone brighter than most dogs I had seen. The boy suddenly lurched towards the dog and embraced him with all his strength only to be met with thin air. The dog looked at the boy, confused, and the boy, who seemed to be holding his emotions all this time, gave a sad smile and said, “At least I get to look at you.”
I stood there at the entrance, looking attentively at this wholesome yet pitiful scene in front of me. For a moment, I almost forgot where I was until it hit me why this scene was in front of me. This boy, sadly, lost his dog, and he had, just like me, arrived on this train to spend some time with his treasured pet. For a while, I stood there and thought of all the reasons this boy was so desperate to take part in this otherworldly activity to get a chance to see his pet. Maybe that dog was his only friend in this world where he was bullied or a loner, or perhaps the boy had come across this legend and, out of childish fun and curiosity, attempted to actually live it but now had seen a dog he once had on this train. My curiosity got the best of me, and I called out to the boy.
“Excuse me,” I said with a smile, but there was no answer. I was a bit flustered by this, but I called out again, “Umm hello?” Yet once again, there was no reply. I bent a bit and leaned forward to tap the boy’s shoulder, but he didn’t even flinch. I tried many times to get the attention of the boy and dog, patting the dog only to be met with thin air and calling them out, yet they paid no attention to me. They weren’t aware that I was also present in the same room as them.
Feeling confused and flustered, I exited the cabinet. The hostess looked at me; there was still a smile on her face, but it felt like she was mocking me, more of a grin. She told me that she had only allowed me this once to enter a cabinet, and I was not allowed to intrude in other people’s affairs. I nodded in agreement and continued on.
This train was truly grand. In front of me was a corridor with cabins on each side, and the cabin numbers were written on every door. I decided to move forward; I could not wait to reach my assigned cabin. I wanted to run to reach that compartment, but the woman was walking in front, and something inside me told me I did not want to cross this woman again.
Then, as I was making my way through each cabin, I noticed something: the train was getting worse every second. In the beginning, everything was shiny and new. The wood was polished, the floors were clean, but now I could see some trash in the corners, and maybe a knob was missing from a door. There were changes in the air too. At first, I was excited and rejuvenated to reach my destination, but then there was a sense of sadness in the air. I wanted to cry, and I think I started to hear some sobs. The sound was coming from the cabin on my right. I didn’t dare enter; I just stood near the door. The voice seemed to be that of a woman. She was crying, and I heard her saying sorry and begging for forgiveness over and over again. I wanted to enter the cabin badly, to comfort that woman, but the warning from the hostess was still fresh in my mind.
Then, to my surprise, a voice answered the woman’s plea for forgiveness. It was that of a little girl, saying, “It’s okay, mommy, I didn’t feel a thing. Don’t cry, mommy.” But the woman started full-on bawling at that time. She cried and cursed herself, blaming herself that it was her fault for leaving the front door open and being too busy in the kitchen to keep an eye on her. The little girl had followed her father out the front door and met with a speeding driver on the street. She died right in front of her house.
This was devastating to me. I realized that this is exactly how I had lost my loving family – right on the street where we resided. I wanted to hug and comfort that woman; she was living with guilt, thinking it was somehow her fault. It might have been her fault, but that didn’t mean she needed to live with that guilt forever. I resonated with her pain; she was feeling shame, a survivor’s guilt, just like I had for being the one who was alive. This broke my heart, and I desperately wanted to reach out to her. I took a step forward to enter the cabin, but then I heard someone say stop. I quickly turned around. The voice was of a young boy; he seemed kind, but there was no softness in the way he stopped me from entering the compartment. He motioned for me to follow him; I noticed that the woman guiding me was nowhere to be seen right now. I decided to follow the young boy. I tried to shake his hand, but he just shook his head in denial. “I can’t. I don’t have a physical form,” he said. “Oh, right.”, I remembered the first cabinet earlier. I wouldn’t be able to interact with anything on this train that didn’t belong to the train in some way.
He led me away from the cabin and started walking forward. Beside the cabin, there was a room that looked like a janitorial space, and he asked me to come inside. As soon as we were inside, he turned and looked at me. “You need to leave,” he said. “What?” I asked, confused. “Go! Don’t come back; this is all a trap. You need to go.” I was scared now. “Why should I believe you? You need to listen to me,” he pleaded, “Get out as fast as you can and don’t eat a single thing from this place.” I looked horrified, and he noticed. “You have already eaten something, haven’t you? They have got to you before me. Please, just go, you need to believe me.” I was taken aback. “Why should I believe you?” I asked again. “Because I am your brother.”