Chapter 10: The Silent Train [2]

Gawking at the old man sitting on the bench with his hardened face, I took a short moment to think about what he was gonna say. Then, it finally dawned on me.

"Wait, so this silent train thing or whatever... You actually saved me, r-right?" I asked with wide-eyes and a sense of foreboding in my voice. I was unable to hide my newfound shock, especially considering how dangerous things could've gotten if the old man didn't show up on time.

"Alright kid. First of all, let me talk first. I know you afraid, but calm down. Can't listen with proper ears if you too scared. Ain't this common sense?"

He was right. There was no need to be so afraid. Someone did just save me after all, so there was no logical reason to be fearful of the current situation.

I remembered to take a deep breath in the meantime, which seemed to have helped out in that regard. The old man calmly stared at me and stated, "You calmed down, then? Okay, good. Now, as I was saying, The Silent Train ain't just no ordinary train. To tell you the truth, that thing's cursed."

'Cursed?' I thought.

Heeding the old man's advice, I tried my best to remain calm, but the rhythm of my heart bumped up a notch, as it started palpitating at the mention of a particular word.

"I won't bullshit you and waste your time. That train is cursed, alright," he said again.

I asked in a low voice. "What do you mean by cursed? Is that train..."

"I meant what I said," the old man interrupted in a tone of impatience.

"That train has a long story, ya see. And it all starts from way back. I be telling this to anyone who gets caught in them train tracks so that it never happens again, and what do you know. It really works, I tell ya!" The man uttered with a satisfied grin on his face, further highlighting just how wrinkly it grew to be over the years.

"That train gets its name from the fact that it be coming at ya without ya even noticing. Once you set your eyes on it, it captures your attention. It's kinda like you're seeing a pot a' gold or whatever makes someone obsessed. And as you get even closer and closer and as the train stays far away..."

He suddenly paused, not saying anything. With a puzzled look, I made an attempt to ask.

"What happens--"

"BAM!" A loud clap resounded along with the man's voice. I was momentarily startled. I was not expecting him to just scare me like that from no where.

"It hits ya like that! Right then and there!" he shouted.

The old man then opened his hands, revealing a dead insect that resembled a mosquito. It was probably the only flying insect around us, but it wasn't uncommon for them to show up around this place. That also explained why this area was mostly devoid of cars and people.

Upon seeing the insect on the old man's hand, I was left speechless. Though I was more surprised at the unreal vigour and speed at which he killed it rather than the fact that he even killed the poor thing in the first place.

"Like this thing that just died, ya see?" the old man showed me the dead insect more closely before dropping it on the ground. There weren't any nearby garbage bins around us, so he just decided he would leave it on a random spot.

He then dusted his hands off before cleaning them with a handkerchief that he took out from one of his jacket pockets. It was rather disgusting, but I shrugged it off quickly. It's not like I haven't killed a flying insect before with my own hands either.

"And just like that insect, the victim dies in a flash. They don't notice what's coming before it's too late," he said as he put back his handkerchief in the same pocket from before.

I was baffled at this revelation. A train that apparently kills you without the victim even noticing? What kind of sorcery was that? However, before I could question him, the old man continued to speak even more, apparently not being done with his story.

"And that's why I was there when you needed me. I saved ya, kid," he said, smiling once again.

"But how did you know that I was-- "

"Ehh... don't ask me that for now. Just chalk it up to being a coincidence for now and move on. Capeesh?" The man eyed me intensely, as if he was staring straight into my soul. It wasn't the scariest of gazes, but it was more than enough to make my heart skip a beat.

"Uhh... Yes! Gulp!" I swallowed my saliva.

"Good. Then I'll tell ya more about that train. Don't faint with what I'm about to say, ya hear?"

"Faint? No! I... I got this. Just keep saying what you what have to say. Hehe," I chuckled nervously.

"About that story of the train then... ahem. That train has killed more folks than you can ever imagine."

"Really?" was the only word I could muster at the moment.

"Yes, really. So pay attention, boy. I'm about to tell ya everything I know about that train."

The old man then told me his story with a keen interest attached to his face. From what I could tell, he was a surprisingly good storyteller, and I could also tell from his words just how energetic he was when it came to recalling the story, which I thought was a little unbefitting for someone of his supposed old age.

As for the story, it all started decades ago.

A certain young man-- gentle but unattractive, cast aside by the others around him, was treated as nothing more than trash and was relentlessly bullied by his peers.

He had recently settled to a new place with a seemingly reputable and welcoming town, with plenty of 'friendly' faces and a good amount of land to offer. Unbeknownst to the young man and his family, the people in charge of the town did not take their migration very kindly as they thought of them as being too filthy-looking and not at all worthy of living in the town with them.

As such, they secretly encouraged their young ones to constantly berate the youngest son-- the one who was apparently the pride of his family. Their plan for the family's treatment was simple but sneaky: give them a reason to continue occupying one of their pieces of land and not have them spoiling their 'perfect' reputation, all so their children could constantly harass the youngest son.

And if he so much as tried to tarnish their names, then he and his family would suffer greatly from his consequences.

It was from there that the bullying started and the young man's family had been left none the wiser. For months, he had been endowed countless tarnishing names that were crude and mean-spirited in nature and served only to ruin any chance of him ever becoming an esteemed man of their town in the future.

Of course, there were those who didn't willingly participate in such acts, adults and kids alike, but because none of them wanted to be associated with someone unfamiliar and someone everyone else was either ignoring or mistreating, they could do nothing but stare and follow the examples of the others around them.

Eventually, some of them joined the others and started harassing the young man too.

But the boy could only do nothing but smile at their constant insults. He had been blessed with a loving mother and a family that supported him and loved him just as intensely as he did to them with all their heart. Furthermore, he worked harder than anyone to get to where he was at. He read more books, wrote more letters, and performed far more laborious tasks than the average kid his age.

His family were the ones that taught him that violence resolved nothing and would only breed more hatred, which is what would usually lead to violence in the first place. As the young man listened to his family's words very carefully, he made a solemn oath to be a pacifist. His philosophy was therefore made simple and set in stone, never changing and remaining resolute.

Those who were truly strong needed only to ignore all the disparaging words of other people and live with their heads held up high. To the young man, a person of true strength was a person of forbearance and endurance. Those who chose not to retaliate in temptation were far stronger than those who chose to give in.

Even if they constantly tormented him, the boy did nothing to strike back. He not only had a promise to uphold, but he could not afford to be reprimanded unjustly for his retaliation. After all, he knew just how unfair and cruel the world had been. He wanted nothing more than to live happily with his family, as they were the biggest gift he could've ever asked for in life.

So for the next year, the young man did nothing but let the bullies continue hounding him.

They threw food and filth at him, humiliated him in front of other kids, and even turned him into a scapegoat, blaming him for all their little wrongdoings or mistakes even if he hadn't been remotely close to being the one at fault. The poor boy could only grit his teeth and continue living through the daily abuse.

Despite trying everything he could to stop the harsh treatment from continuing, it persisted and constantly followed him almost everywhere. And unfortunately for him, he could not beg for his family to move away, as he knew just how much work they poured into acquiring the one and only land they called their new home.

Any attempts at improving relationships with his peers and even their parents or family members would only result in further contempt, as they could not stand the sight of the young man before them, treating any of his remarks as utter garbage. But to the young man, he knew that if they truly hated him, they would've gotten rid of not only he but his family long ago.

Maybe it was the result of karma, for doing something unforgivable in a past life. But if that's the case, then why should he have been gifted with such a family?

No, this was likely just the nature of people. In spite of being considered worthless and trash, he knew deep down that his only purpose was to serve as a punching bag. To alleviate their barely concealed rage towards someone or something they hated even more... But as time went on, things only got worse.

It got so bad that eventually, his family got involved and things took a turn for the worst.

At some point, a war broke out and the surrounding environment around him struggled in the midst of the war. Most of the men were sent to fight in the war, leaving behind their families for the sake of upholding their momentary peace.

As a result, the workforce started decreasing, as many men and women alike reverted all their attention away from their jobs and into the war. And because jobs were in such high demand, the young man's family was also dragged into it.

Unaware that the pride of their family was being bullied, they too were soon caught up in his troubles and like a domino effect, the bullying quickly spread to every one of his family members. Soon, his family were treated like slaves, and the hope that the young man had once held on to... was shattered into a million pieces.

They said that only he would have to suffer from their hands. They promised that they wouldn't harm his family members if he was the only one being tormented. They told him that if he didn't say a word, they would do nothing to harm his family.

But to think that they would dishonor their part of the deal and stoop so low as to betray him and involve his family in this too...

Unacceptable.

Completely and utterly unacceptable!

For him to have met with such distasteful and absolutely god-awful people...

Uphold the promise? Laughable! Not when it involves the fate of his very own family!

Who in their right minds would accept seeing their family being treated like slaves!?

From there, something in the young man snapped.

After his pent up rage that was gradually building up over the past year reached its boiling point, the young man could no longer hold it in, and so he spent the next week plotting the town's demise.

Anything he could do to make them incur from his wrath. As long as it didn't involve their deaths, he was willing to do anything!

Soon enough, the pacifistic man with a previously humble and amiable nature would later do something that would remain infamous years later.

A story that was to be later passed down and retold from many different point of views.

The most common of which was the fact that the young man and his family were vilified for their actions, especially the man himself.

In a famous event that would later come to be known as the Spirit Creek Massacre.

"..."

"..."

I stared at the old man in front of me with a confused glare. I hadn't asked him anything up until now, but this was the first time he said something that really made me question the validity of his story.

"Spirit Creek Massacre? What does this have to do with The Silent Train... sir?" I asked him, doubt filling my words.

"Sigh. Foolish boy. I ain't even finished with the story yet. Let me continue talking, and I'mma show you why it has everything to do with the silent train but before we do that... ya wanna get some ice cream?"

A certain growling sound could be heard coming from someone's fat belly. It was none other than mine. "Ha! I'll take that as a yes!" The old man exclaimed.

"Ugh," I groaned out loud.

Apparently, I had been so immersed into the old man's story that I had grown very hungry without realizing it.

Staring at my phone to check the time, my voice echoed out loud.

[5:25 P.M.]

"What the!? It's already been an hour? Damn, old man! Didn't know the story lasted that long!"

"Hehe. That's just the first quarter of it or a lil' past that. How about we take a break and I finish with muh story later after we eat some ice cream? What do you say, boy?"

It was rather rude to refuse ice cream from the person that had just saved my life an hour ago.

"But where are we gonna get the ice cream from, old man?" I answered his question with my own question.

"Don't worry about that either," he muttered in response.

The old man stood up from the bench after being seated for what seemed to be a while, and I did the same after him. It was pretty hard to stand in place and not want to sit down for that long, so I eventually helped myself and scooted to the bench opposite of where he sat. We were still in the middle of him recalling his story when I took a seat.

"This ice cream's bound to be from the best ice cream parlor in town you's ever gon' be at. Trust meh," the same smile from an hour ago returned to his wrinkly, old face. He seemed to like to smile, which in turn made me self-conscious of how terrible mine probably was in comparison.

I almost forced myself to smile as brightly as he did, but I decided against it at the last second. No point in showing someone something that I was really bad at.

"Let's get going now. I promise you won't ever find anything better than my divine ice cream," he stated proudly.

I almost cringed. I have tried ice cream quite a few times before, but there was really nothing 'divine' about it. I honestly preferred foods that were savory. Nevertheless, food was food, and ice cream was always a good option regardless of opinion.

For the next five or so minutes, I followed the old man wordlessly as we both walked around the city to find this 'best ice-cream parlor in town.'