Chapter 4: The Name of the Dead

Chapter 4: The Name of the Dead

Rick stood outside the railway station, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his breath visible in the cold morning air. The station was bustling with people, but he felt completely alone. The weight of the passenger list discovery pressed heavily on his mind. His name was there. His name was on that cursed train.

He approached the ticket counter, his heart pounding. A middle-aged staff member with tired eyes looked up at him.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice monotone.

"I… I need to check the passenger list for the Ujjain train," Rick said, trying to keep his voice steady. "The one that derailed last month."

The woman raised an eyebrow but didn't question him. She typed something into her computer, then frowned.

"Name?" she asked.

"Rick Sharma," he replied, his throat dry.

She nodded, scrolling through the screen. After a moment, she looked up at him, her expression unreadable.

"Yes, your name is here. But the ticket was paid for in cash. No record of who bought it."

Rick's stomach dropped. "What do you mean? I never bought a ticket. I wasn't on that train."

The woman shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. The system says you were."

Rick stepped back, his mind racing. He needed answers, and he wasn't going to find them here.

As he turned to leave, an old railway guard approached him. The man's face was weathered, his eyes haunted.

"You're looking into the accident, aren't you?" the guard asked, his voice low.

Rick nodded, his heart skipping a beat.

The guard leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "That train didn't just crash, son… it disappeared before it hit the ground."

Rick stared at him, stunned. "What do you mean?"

"I was there," the guard continued, his hands trembling. "I saw it. The train was falling, but before it hit the ground… the passengers vanished. Just… poof. Gone."

Rick felt a chill run down his spine. He wanted to ask more, but the guard shook his head and walked away, muttering something under his breath.

______________________________________________________________

That night, Rick's nightmares took a darker turn.

He was back on the train, but this time, he wasn't alone. The blurry figures were clearer now, their faces twisted in fear. And then he saw it—himself.

Rick was sitting among the passengers, his face pale, his eyes wide with terror. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. The train lurched violently, and he woke up gasping for air.

The next morning, Rick noticed something strange. He was brushing his teeth when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. It was lagging behind, moving a split second after he did.

He froze, staring at the mirror. His reflection stared back, but its lips moved without his.

"You don't belong here," it whispered.

Rick stumbled back, his heart pounding. He splashed water on his face, trying to shake off the fear. But the whispers followed him throughout the day, faint and insistent.

That night, as he walked home, he saw her again.

Rose.

She was standing under a streetlamp, her face pale, her eyes hollow. This time, she didn't disappear. She walked toward him, her steps slow and deliberate.

"You were there," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Rick's breath caught in his throat. "What are you talking about?"

Rose reached out and touched his forehead.

In an instant, Rick was transported.

He was on the train, surrounded by screaming passengers. The windows shattered, and the ground rushed up to meet them. He felt the impact, the searing pain, and then… nothing.

He woke up on the street, gasping for air. Rose was gone.

______________________________________________________________

The next day, Miki found him after class. She looked pale, her eyes red as if she hadn't slept.

"Rick, we need to talk," she said, her voice trembling.

He nodded, his heart pounding. They found a quiet corner of the campus, away from prying eyes.

"I saw you on the train," Miki said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I remember it now. But… you were never supposed to be there."

Rick stared at her, stunned. "What are you talking about? I wasn't on that train."

Miki shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I've been having nightmares too, Rick. Ones where you die over and over again. Please… you have to stop looking for answers. If you keep digging, you'll disappear just like the passengers."

Rick felt a chill run down his spine. He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the fear in her eyes stopped him.

______________________________________________________________

That night, Rick checked his phone's photo gallery, hoping to find something—anything—that could explain what was happening.

And then he saw it.

A photo of himself, sitting inside the train.

His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear. The timestamp on the photo was from the day of the accident.

Rick's hands trembled as he stared at the image. How was this possible?

Before he could process it, his phone rang. The number was unknown.

He answered, his heart pounding.

A distorted version of his own voice came through the line.

"Don't make the same mistake. Turn back."

The line went dead.

To be continued...