Speaker 1: 12 AM dot FM. The small town train station sat in a shroud of quiet stillness. The night was heavy. The air cool and damp with a faint mist hovering just above the ground. A man stood alone on the deserted platform, his breath visible in the cold air.
He glanced at the old fashioned clock hanging above, its hands inching toward midnight. He had missed the last train by mere minutes, and now there was nothing to do but wait until morning. The dim station light flickered, casting jittery shadows that seemed to move on their own. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, but when he looked around, he saw only emptiness. A distant rumble broke the silence.
To his surprise, an old creaking train emerged from the darkness, its rusty wheels screeching as it slowed to a halt in front of him. The doors opened with a mechanical groan, revealing an empty, dimly lit carriage. The man hesitated, glancing around for any sign of life, but he was still alone. The train wasn't on the schedule. He was sure of that.
But the thought of spending the night at the station was unbearable. He took a deep breath and stepped aboard. As he settled into a seat near the back, the doors clanged shut with a finality that echoed through the empty carriage. The train jerked forward, its wheels clattering along the tracks. Outside, the station lights flickered out, swallowed by the night.
The man glanced around the carriage and noticed it was strangely empty, save for a few shadowy figures in the distance. The air grew colder, and he pulled his coat tighter trying to shake off the growing sense of dread. As the train rattled down the tracks, the man couldn't shake the unsettling quiet that filled the carriage. He glanced at the other passengers, shadowy figures sitting eerily still, their faces turned away or hidden in the dim light. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of the train's wheels and the occasional creak of the old carriage.
There was no idle chatter, no rustle of newspapers, not even the soft of a phone. It was as if the passengers weren't really there at all. He shifted in his seat trying to get a better look at them, but something about their presence unnerved him. The figures were oddly stiff. Their heads tilted in unnatural angles, and their clothes seemed out of place.
Old fashioned as if they had stepped out of another time. The air grew colder still and he noticed his breath fogging up the window beside him. The fog outside thickened, obscuring the world beyond the glass, leaving only the dim shadowy interior of the train. The man leaned forward trying to catch the eye of the nearest passenger. A woman sitting just a few rows ahead, But when she turned her head slightly, he froze.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide and vacant staring into nothingness. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized she wasn't breathing. None of them were. Panic began to gnaw at the edges of the man's mind as he forced himself to look away from the lifeless passengers. He tried to steady his breathing, but the air in the carriage felt thick and cold as if it were slowly suffocating him.
The train seemed to be moving faster now. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels growing louder, more frantic. He peered through the fogged window, but the outside world was nothing but a blur of darkness. Desperation crept in. He had to get off this train.
Rising from his seat, he stumbled toward the nearest door, gripping the cold metal handrails to steady himself. The train swayed violently as it sped through the night, throwing him off balance. When he reached the door, he tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. He pulled harder, but it was locked, sealed tight as if it hadn't been used in years. Frustrated, he turned back toward the carriage, his eyes scanning for any sign of help.
But the passengers remained eerily still, oblivious to his struggle. The man's heart pounded in his chest as a terrible realization dawned on him. He was trapped. The train wasn't just taking him home. It was taking him somewhere far worse.
As the thought crossed his mind, the lights in the carriage flickered casting the passengers in a sickly, unnatural glow. For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of their faces, hollow eyes, sunken cheeks, skin stretched tight over bone. These were no ordinary passengers. They were the dead, bound to this train for eternity. The man's breath quickened as the horrifying truth settled in.
This was no ordinary train, and these were no ordinary passengers. He was riding with the dead, and the train's destination was not of this world. He backed away from the door, his eyes darting around the carriage in a desperate search for an escape, but there was none. The train's speed increased. The wheels clattering so loudly, it was as if they were driving him deeper into the darkness.
Suddenly, the train began to slow. The screeching of metal on metal echoing through the carriage, The man's heart raced. Was this his chance to get off? He stumbled toward the window, wiping away the fog to see outside. But as the train emerged from the thick mist, his blood ran cold.
There was no station, no lights, no signs of life, only a vast empty void stretching endlessly in every direction. The train shuddered to a stop and the carriage door creaked open with a ghostly wail. A blast of freezing air rushed in, carrying with it the faint smell of decay. The man hesitated. Fear clawing at his chest.
But something compelled him to move forward, drawn toward the open door by an unseen force. He peered into the darkness beyond. His eyes straining to see anything, but there was nothing. Only an abyss that seemed to pull him in. Behind him, the passengers began to rise from their seats moving in unison, their eyes fixed on the door.
They were leaving the train, heading toward whatever awaited them in the void. The man's legs trembled as he realized he was expected to join them. The voice of the conductor crackled through the old speakers cold and hollow. End of the line. The man stood frozen at the threshold.
The open door beckoning him into the unknown. The air outside was frigid and the darkness seemed to stretch endlessly, a void that promised no return. Behind him, the passengers moved silently toward the exit, Their faces expressionless, their eyes fixed on the emptiness beyond. The man's mind raced. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to resist the pull of whatever lay beyond that door, but his body refused to obey as if an invisible hand was guiding him forward.
He took a hesitant step closer and then another, the cold seeping into his bones. As he approached the edge, he saw that the passengers were not walking into the void, but rather they were dissolving into it. Their forms disintegrating into mist as they crossed the threshold. A wave of terror washed over him. This was not a destination, but a final end.
A place where souls vanished into nothingness. The man's heart pounded in his chest as he realized that he too was meant to vanish, to become part of the void. But just as the darkness seemed ready to consume him, a spark of defiance flared within him. He wasn't ready to disappear to join the ranks of the forgotten. With all the strength he could muster, he turned and bolted back into the carriage, slamming the door shut behind him.
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the man's ragged breathing. Then, slowly, the train began to move again, the doors closing with a final echoing thud. The lights flickered back on, and when the man looked around, he was alone. The passengers, the cold, the darkness, all had vanished. The train rumbled on through the night, but something had changed.
The man didn't know where he was going, but he knew one thing for certain. He had escaped the fate of the others. He had chosen to keep living no matter where this new journey would take him. 12 AM dot FM.