Book I: The Immortal Passenger

The rhythmic clack of train wheels fills the air as Master Renton Howling steps out from the shadows, his silhouette dark against the flickering light of an ancient, rattling locomotive. His eyes gleam with that same, unsettling amusement as he walks slowly down the aisle of the old, abandoned train car, his fingers trailing across the cracked leather seats.

"Ah, trains," he murmurs, his voice smooth, quiet, but filled with an ominous resonance. "So many people crammed into one place, speeding toward their destination, but unaware of what might be riding along with them."

He stops beside an empty seat, turning toward you, his face slipping into a slow, wicked smile. "In tonight's tale, our passengers think they're on a simple journey, traveling through the countryside on an overnight train. But there's something they don't know, a traveler who never leaves, one who has been on this train for centuries, watching, waiting."

Renton's eyes glint as he leans in closer. "A word of warning, dear reader: if you ever find yourself alone on a train in the dead of night, be careful who, or what, you might share the journey with. After all, some passengers never get off."

The train begins to fade into the shadows as Renton steps back, his smile lingering in the dark. "All aboard, then. And remember, on this train, time is a one-way track."

The light flickers out, and the train is swallowed by darkness.

The Immortal Passenger

The hiss of steam filled the station as David Ellis stood on the platform, staring at the old train before him. It wasn't his first choice for transportation, he would have preferred to fly, but circumstances had forced him to take the night train, traveling through the countryside toward his destination in the north.

The train itself was a relic from another time. Its once gleaming, polished exterior was now faded and worn, the metal dulled by years of service. Yet, there was something almost charming about it, a nostalgic beauty, like stepping back into another era.

David checked his watch. 11:57 PM . He sighed, glancing around the nearly empty station. There were only a handful of other passengers boarding the train, most of them already settling into their compartments.

A porter approached, tipping his hat. "Boarding, sir?"

David nodded, grabbing his suitcase and heading toward the door. As he climbed the steps into the train, the air inside felt different, heavier, older. The scent of dust and leather filled his nostrils, and the dim lighting cast long shadows down the narrow corridor.

His compartment was at the far end of the train, a small but comfortable room with a single bed, a window overlooking the dark countryside, and a tiny table with a brass lamp. David dropped his suitcase onto the bed and sat down, glancing out the window as the train began to move.

The countryside slipped past, dark and featureless under the cloak of night. The gentle clatter of the train wheels on the tracks was almost soothing, a rhythmic lull that slowly began to ease his tension.

David leaned back in his seat, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on him. He closed his eyes, hoping for a few hours of rest before the train reached its destination in the morning.

But as the train picked up speed, something gnawed at the back of his mind. A strange, uneasy feeling, a sense that he wasn't alone, even though he hadn't seen anyone else in the corridor since he boarded.

He opened his eyes and looked around. His compartment was empty. The only sound was the steady clack of the train's wheels.

Shaking his head, David laughed quietly to himself. He was just tired. That was all. It had been a long day, and his mind was playing tricks on him.

Still, the feeling of unease lingered.

The train rattled through the night, its engine humming softly in the background as David sat by the window, staring out into the dark countryside. He had tried to sleep, but something wouldn't let him rest, an odd, creeping sensation that he couldn't shake.

The corridor outside his compartment was quiet, the other passengers seemingly asleep. But every now and then, he thought he heard something, faint footsteps, just outside his door. He would glance up, expecting to see someone pass by, but there was never anyone there.

It was just after 2:00 AM when David first saw the figure.

He had been staring out the window, his eyes unfocused as the train cut through a dense patch of fog. The glass was foggy from the condensation, blurring the view of the outside world. But as he leaned forward, wiping the window with his sleeve, he saw something, a reflection.

At first, he thought it was his own. But the figure was wrong, taller and thinner, standing in the shadows near the doorway of his compartment.

David turned quickly, his heart racing.

The corridor was empty.

He blinked, his breath catching in his throat. Had he imagined it? He wasn't sure. His eyes darted around the small room, but there was nothing out of place. No strange figure. No sign that anyone had been there.

With a sigh, he rubbed his face, shaking off the unease. He was probably just tired. It had been a long day, after all.

But as he sat back down, something didn't feel right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the air seemed different, heavier, colder. And there was that nagging feeling again, the one he couldn't quite shake, like someone, or something, was watching him.

The train continued its journey through the night, the rhythmic sound of the wheels on the track now feeling almost oppressive. David couldn't shake the tension that had settled in his chest, a growing sense of dread that refused to leave him.

Needing to stretch his legs and clear his head, David stepped out of his compartment and into the corridor. The train was eerily silent, the kind of silence that felt unnatural, like the calm before a storm.

He walked slowly down the narrow hallway, his footsteps muffled on the carpeted floor. Most of the other compartments were dark, their doors shut tight, and no one else seemed to be awake. It was as if the entire train had fallen under some strange, dreamlike spell.

David was about to turn back when he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a flicker of movement at the far end of the corridor.

It was faint, barely perceptible, but it was there. A shadowy figure standing near the back of the train, just out of the reach of the dim overhead lights.

"Hello?" David called out, his voice breaking the oppressive silence.

The figure didn't move.

David took a step closer, his heart pounding in his chest. The figure was tall and thin, wearing what looked like an old-fashioned suit, the kind you'd expect to see on a passenger from another era. But something was wrong. The way the figure stood, motionless, its head tilted slightly to the side, as if observing him, was deeply unsettling.

David swallowed hard, his hands trembling. "Is everything alright?"

The figure remained silent.

David took another step forward, but before he could get any closer, the lights flickered, casting the corridor into brief darkness. When they came back on, the figure was gone.

David stood frozen in place, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The corridor was empty, just as it had been before.

But he knew what he had seen. There had been someone, or something, standing there, watching him.

And now, it was gone.

He turned quickly, hurrying back to his compartment, his heart racing. As he shut the door behind him, locking it with trembling hands, the unease that had been gnawing at him all night intensified.

Something was wrong with this train. And whoever, or whatever, that passenger was, David had the sinking feeling that they weren't just passing through.

They were staying.

David sat in his compartment, gripping the armrests of his seat, his heart still racing from the encounter in the corridor. He couldn't shake the image of the figure, the way it had stood there, watching him with an almost unnatural stillness. Every instinct in his body told him to get off the train, but he knew that wasn't an option, not until morning.

He glanced at his watch: 3:13 AM . The train wasn't scheduled to stop until 6:00 AM , and even then, it would be in the middle of nowhere. The last few hours had already felt like an eternity, and now, with the shadowy figure haunting the back of his mind, the time seemed to stretch on forever.

David rubbed his face, trying to push away the exhaustion creeping in. He hadn't slept at all, his nerves too frayed to relax. The train's gentle rocking, once comforting, now felt like a slow, steady descent into madness. He looked out the window, but the dark countryside was still shrouded in fog, offering no solace.

Then, as he watched the blackness outside, something strange happened.

The train jolted, just slightly, but enough for David to notice. The rhythm of the wheels changed, speeding up for a brief moment before slowing down again. The lights in his compartment flickered, and when they came back on, David's watch now read 3:47 AM .

He blinked, confusion washing over him. How could nearly half an hour have passed in the blink of an eye? Had he dozed off? He didn't think so, he hadn't even closed his eyes.

A chill crept up his spine as he stared at the watch on his wrist, willing it to make sense. But there was no rational explanation. The time had slipped away, lost somehow in the flicker of the lights, in the movement of the train.

David stood up, suddenly desperate to check the rest of the train. Maybe he had lost track of time, or maybe… something else was happening. Something he couldn't explain.

He opened the door to his compartment and stepped back into the corridor, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. The train felt even quieter now, as though the very air had thickened. The lights overhead flickered again, and David's skin prickled with a growing sense of dread.

As he walked toward the front of the train, he noticed something odd. One of the doors to a compartment was wide open, the darkness inside almost swallowing the light from the corridor.

David paused, hesitating. He hadn't seen anyone else leave their compartments earlier. Slowly, he approached the open door and peered inside.

The room was empty. No bags. No belongings. No signs that anyone had ever occupied it.

A sinking feeling settled in his stomach. Where had the passenger gone? There was no stop, no way for someone to leave the train. Yet the compartment was completely vacant.

David backed away, his pulse quickening. Something was very, very wrong. He had to find the conductor, to get answers. But as he turned to continue down the corridor, the lights flickered once more, and a figure stepped out from the shadows ahead.

It was the same figure from before, the tall, thin man in the old-fashioned suit, his face obscured by the dim light. He stood perfectly still, blocking the path, his head slightly tilted as though watching David's every move.

David's breath caught in his throat. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and an icy chill washed over him.

Without thinking, he turned and ran in the opposite direction, his footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise silent train. He didn't stop until he reached his compartment, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

His heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He pressed his back against the door, listening for any sound outside.

Silence.

David squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm the panic rising inside him. But the figure's presence lingered in his mind, a shadow that refused to fade.

And then, through the walls of the train, he heard it, a faint, whispering voice, almost too quiet to understand.

"Time is running out."

David didn't sleep for the rest of the night. He sat on the edge of the bed in his compartment, his mind racing with fear and confusion. The memory of the figure in the corridor haunted him, and the strange slip in time gnawed at his sanity. Every minute felt stretched, warped, as though the train existed in a place where time no longer followed the rules.

By 5:30 AM , he couldn't take it anymore. He had to speak to someone, anyone, who might be able to explain what was happening. With trembling hands, he unlocked the door to his compartment and stepped back into the corridor.

It was eerily quiet, as though the entire train had fallen into a deep sleep. The lights overhead flickered, casting long shadows that twisted and stretched across the narrow hallway.

As David made his way toward the front of the train, he spotted another passenger, an older man sitting in one of the lounge areas, a cup of tea in his hand. The man's face was gaunt, his eyes sunken and tired, as though he hadn't slept in days.

Desperate for some answers, David approached him.

"Excuse me," David said, his voice trembling. "Do you have a moment? I need to ask you something about the train."

The older man looked up slowly, his tired eyes locking onto David's with a solemn intensity. He didn't speak for a moment, as though weighing his words carefully.

"You've seen him, haven't you?" the man finally said, his voice low and raspy.

David's blood ran cold. "Seen who?"

"The passenger," the man replied. "He's been on this train for as long as anyone can remember. Never gets off. Never speaks. But he's always there, watching."

David swallowed hard. "What are you talking about? Who is he?"

The man sighed, setting his cup of tea down on the small table in front of him. "No one knows who he is, or where he came from. But once you see him, the train changes. Time doesn't work the way it should anymore. Hours slip away, days feel like minutes. You become... trapped."

David's heart raced. "Trapped? What do you mean?"

The man glanced around, as if checking to make sure no one else was listening. "This train... it's not just a train. It's something else. It doesn't take you to a destination. It takes you in circles, keeping you here, on board, with him."

David shook his head, refusing to believe it. "That's impossible. There has to be some explanation. I just need to get to the conductor, ask him, "

"There is no conductor," the man interrupted, his voice hard. "Not anymore."

David stared at him, his mind reeling. "What do you mean?"

The man leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. "You've felt it, haven't you? The time slipping away. The train doesn't follow the rules of the world outside. And now that you've seen him... you're a part of it, too."

David felt a wave of nausea wash over him. "No. No, that's not possible."

The man shook his head sadly. "You can't leave, David. None of us can."

David stumbled back, his chest tightening with panic. "There has to be a way off this train. There has to be."

The man's face was grim, his eyes filled with sorrow. "There's only one way, but it's not what you think. If you stay, the passenger will find you. And when he does... you'll wish you had never boarded."

David's pulse thundered in his ears as he ran from the lounge area, his mind racing with the stranger's warning. The words echoed in his head: The train doesn't follow the rules of the world outside. You're a part of it now.

But he refused to accept that. There had to be a way out, there had to be an explanation for everything he'd seen. He wasn't going to spend eternity on this cursed train, trapped with a passenger who shouldn't exist.

As he reached the front of the train, he stopped in front of the door marked Conductor's Office . His hand trembled as he reached for the handle. He needed answers, and this was the only place left to get them.

The door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit room. The office was empty, papers scattered across the floor, the desk abandoned. There was no sign of the conductor, no sign that anyone had been there at all.

David's heart sank. He turned to leave, but froze in place as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A cold draft washed over him, and in the corner of the room, a shadow shifted.

Slowly, David turned around.

The passenger was standing there.

Tall. Thin. His face was pale and gaunt, his eyes black and hollow, staring at David with an intensity that made his blood freeze in his veins. The suit he wore was from another time, old and worn, and his mouth was twisted into a grotesque smile.

David's breath caught in his throat as the passenger took a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Who... who are you?" David managed to whisper, his voice barely audible.

The passenger didn't respond. He just continued to walk toward David, his smile widening.

David's heart raced as the passenger inched closer, his footsteps almost soundless, like a shadow gliding across the floor. The man's hollow eyes seemed to drink in the dim light, his twisted smile revealing teeth that were far too sharp for any human.

Frozen in place, David tried to will himself to move, but fear had locked his body in place. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to flee this impossible figure who had no place in reality. But his legs wouldn't obey.

The passenger took another step, his movements unnervingly calm, as though he had all the time in the world. The closer he got, the more David could feel a deep, unnatural cold emanating from the figure. It wasn't just cold, it was the absence of life itself.

David swallowed hard, managing to speak in a trembling voice. "What do you want?"

The passenger's smile widened, and then, in a voice that sounded like the scraping of iron on stone, he whispered, "Time."

A shiver ran down David's spine, but before he could react, the lights in the conductor's office flickered and went out. The darkness swallowed the room whole, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, David felt it, a hand, cold as ice, wrapping around his wrist.

He gasped, trying to pull away, but the grip was impossibly strong. The passenger's presence loomed over him in the dark, and though David couldn't see him, he could feel the weight of his gaze, the sheer force of his ageless will pressing down on him.

"No," David whispered, panic surging through him. "Let me go!"

In the darkness, the passenger's voice came again, a low, rasping sound that sent a chill deep into David's bones.

"You boarded the train. Now you belong to it."

David's vision blurred, his head swimming as the cold seemed to seep into his very core. The sensation was overwhelming, time itself seemed to warp around him, the hours slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. He could feel his strength draining, his life force being pulled into the void.

Desperate, David clawed at the hand holding him, but it was useless. The passenger was an immovable force, a being who had transcended time itself. His smile lingered in the dark, a haunting reminder of the fate that awaited David.

And then, just as David felt himself fading, the lights flickered back on.

The passenger was gone.

David stumbled backward, collapsing to the floor, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. His wrist was ice-cold, the place where the passenger had touched him still tingling with the unnatural chill. He blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened, but his mind was reeling.

The train. The time slipping. The immortal passenger.

It all crashed down on him at once, and David realized with growing horror that the stranger in the lounge had been right.

There was no escape.

The hours passed in a blur. David sat in his compartment, staring blankly out the window as the countryside continued to roll past in an endless stretch of fog and darkness. Time had lost all meaning, slipping away with each passing minute, each flicker of the train's lights.

He checked his watch, but it no longer seemed to matter. He had been on the train for what felt like days, yet it could have been hours. The passenger's touch still lingered on his skin, a cold reminder that his fate was sealed.

At some point, the train began to slow. David glanced out the window and saw nothing but a thick wall of mist obscuring the landscape. It was impossible to tell where they were, or if they had even reached the intended stop.

The train shuddered to a halt, and for a brief moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, the familiar hiss of steam filled the air, and the doors to the compartments slid open.

David stood up slowly, his legs shaky beneath him. He knew this wasn't a normal stop. The weight of the passenger's presence still hung heavy in the air, and as he stepped out into the corridor, he saw that the other compartments remained closed. No other passengers seemed to be getting off.

He walked toward the exit, the silence of the train pressing down on him with each step. The cold draft that had followed him all night was stronger now, and the fog outside the train seemed to thicken, swirling with an unnatural weight.

David hesitated at the door, his hand resting on the handle. He didn't know what awaited him beyond the train, but staying on board was no longer an option.

With a deep breath, he stepped off the train.

The fog swallowed him whole.

Epilogue

Master Renton Howling steps out from the mist, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as the train disappears into the shadows behind him. The clattering of wheels fades into the distance, leaving nothing but the echo of its passage.

"Ah, poor David," Renton says softly, his voice a smooth whisper. "He thought he could outrun the past, outwit the darkness that travels with us all. But on this train, there are no destinations. Only passengers. Passengers who have been riding for a very, very long time."

He pauses, his fingers trailing across the handle of an old suitcase, his smile widening. "You see, dear reader, this train doesn't follow the tracks of the living. It doesn't deliver you to safety or salvation. No, it takes you somewhere far more interesting. Somewhere between time, between worlds."

Renton chuckles, a deep, sinister sound that echoes in the still air. "And once you board, you can never truly leave. You become a part of the journey. A part of the story. Just like David, just like the others."

He steps back into the fog, his eyes glinting in the dark. "So, if you ever find yourself on a late-night train, be careful who, or what, joins you for the ride. For you never know when the next stop will be your last."

The fog swirls around him, and Renton fades into the shadows, his voice lingering in the air.

"After all, some passengers are immortal."

The mist closes in, and the scene fades to black, the only sound left the faint, distant clatter of a train traveling into the unknown.

The End