Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Train Car

From where I stand I can see a hobbling man gripping tightly onto the shoulders of a young boy. They stumble blindly with no direction or apparent purpose, yet when I approach them, it is almost as if they could feel my presence before actually seeing me. Before I even manage to expel coherent words, the old man removes his hand from the shoulder of the boy and swiftly grasps my own. I feel a searing pain, so much so that I have to close my eyes and grit my teeth to keep from crying out. The pain ends abruptly, and I am left branded with the words "WHAT WILL COME WILL COME/EVEN IF I SHORUD IT ALL IN SILENCE." Immediately I stumble backgrounds and start giggling. That's pretty cliche man, a blind dude and a kid with ducktape.

A little freaked out, I head on over to my favorite tree in Howell, a dear pal of mine. I hear such a loud shriek. Apparently a grave has been disturbed. Freshly packed grass overturned, and a jade necklace dangling from the red splattered cross. The necklace looks weirdly familiar, but I couldn't quite place its owner in my head. I sneak forward to some bushes in order to catch a glimpse of the conversation between the priest and the officer.

"I don't see any signs of digging"
"What are you suggesting Officer Phillips"
"It seems, it se- oh god"
"What? Spit it out already"
"Whoever this is, they must have clawed their way out from the inside."

Without warning, I collapse to the ground, letting the spinning world fade to black. The only thing that seems to wake me up is the excruciating pain radiating from my heels. I scan around the what seems to be a train car, like the true detective I am. It’s dark, illuminated only by the sliver of light filtering through the crack in the door. I can already tell this place is dangerous, and a prolonged stay in this dismal train would be bad news bears. I hear a drip coming from behind me, and slowly rotate to see the cracked fingernails of a hand leaking blood, attached to a man with a well maintained combover.