PK Hrezo's entry

The Train

I was running late. I darted down the stairs to the boarding area, praying the train hadn’t shut its doors. I missed Lance more than words could say. Another day without him would be torture. In seconds, I had my bag overhead and my butt in my seat. Whew! Time for a nap.

* * *

I shifted my body. A crick in my neck forced me to open my eyes. Where was I? The steady vibrations of the track reminded me I was still on the train. I glanced around. An eerie feeling settled inside me like a whisper from the devil himself.
Not a passenger was in sight. I stood up and inched forward, my eyes wandering every empty seat for a clue. Nothing. It had been half full when I left Frankfurt. Had I slept right through my stop? I was somewhere in Eastern Europe, wasn’t I?
I peeked out the large picture windows. There was only black. It should still be daylight. What was going on? My pulse quickened. Everything on the train car looked different: the vintage velvet curtains along the windows, the ornate candle sconces casting shadows on the crimson walls, the lavish passenger seats gilded at the backs.
This was not the same train car I had boarded back in Germany. I crept to the door, letting my fingers rest on the golden knob. There was movement behind it, a suction rumbling the edges. The air seemed to slip past me between the cracks. Even the air was trying to escape. Maybe I was still dreaming. This couldn’t be real.
Okay, so in a dream I’d try to get out, keep moving. I turned the knob. Locked. I turned behind me, to the opposite end of the car. Another door. I examined the ceiling. No hatch, nothing but a crystal chandelier. How did I get into this lavish car?
I started up the aisle and before I knew it I was running. Breathless. My footsteps were in slow motion, my legs like stone. Every step was a struggle. At last, I reached the other door. My body quivered as I turned the handle. It clicked, the door slid open. My eyes searched my surroundings. A covered pathway to another car.
I slid the next door open with ease, but as soon as I stepped in, it shut by itself. Regret flooded my heart. I tried the door again. Locked. The stench of stale blood wafted into my nostrils. Cold air prickled my skin. I turned back to the emptiness. A red glow at the far corner illuminated the walls. Metal everywhere. Chains hanging from the ceiling. My heart leapt into my throat.
Soft music tinkled from somewhere inside. Not music, voices. Who else was in here? Instinctively, I moved toward them.
“Who’s there? Anyone? I … need some help … hello?” My voice wavered.
I was striding through the dim light, following the sound of who knows what. Alone. The only movement was the swaying of the chains like a soft breeze was blowing. But there was no breeze. The air was still, cold. I clutched my arms around me.
“Hello?” My voice drifted into nothingness.
An image emerged—translucent, withered. A woman? Her billows of wispy hair dissolved into the air around her head. Her eyes were hollow slits with no reflection.
My heart stopped. Words would not take form.
The entity reached out her hand, beckoning me. Her pallid lips parted. A silvery voice called to me, the words blending into song. “Come … It is time … The Master awaits …”
The Master? But this was a dream, right?
A thud. My body fell backwards onto the floor. Pain shot through my back, too real to be a dream. Speechless, I watched as the ghastly woman hovered above me, her soulless eyeholes transfixing mine. Her hands were like ice as they wrapped themselves around my arms. She pulled me to her, my face inches from hers.
I watched the smooth features of her face contort, leaving only a skeletal profile of what once was. A scream escaped my lips. I bolted up, panicked, desperate for escape. Laughter closed in on me from every direction—loud, bellowing.
I yanked the door knob, harder, with all my force. It jarred only a crack. I wedged my toe in, shoving, pulling—like trying to move a statue.
At once, it slid back—just enough to slip my body through. I clamored through the next door. Right back where I was. I darted for the far door, certain I could open it if I tried harder. I grabbed the knob, pushed, shoved, kicked.
Nothing. Laughter like that from a deep bass drum resonated throughout the entire train car. It surrounded me, was everywhere. How was it possible? It rattled my bones, reverberating from the walls. I was trapped. I slid into the passenger seats and cupped my face at the large window. Pitch black. I shuddered. This couldn’t be the end. Not yet. There was always a way out.
Take a deep breath. Figure out what to do next. The train vibrated so I caught my stance. I crept through the aisle, steadying myself with the seat backs. The laughter slowed, quieted. I looked out the windows.
A soft yellow light rose in the distance. The sun? Was there hope? My spirits lifted, then fell again as demonic eyes the size of moons appeared above the horizon, narrowed in anger. No, not anger—evil delight—the irises sizzled with tortuous intent.
I fell to my knees, unable to turn away as an enormous face was revealed in the blood red sky. Fangs peeked over its weathered lips. He was watching me, his eyes piercing mine. There was nowhere to hide.
I had met the Master.