Multiple Settings Train to Nowhere

[dancew/me!]

Three. Maybe Moddey Dhoo will know what is following us?

You utter to Moddhey Dhoo that you are being followed. They nod their little shaggy head, tongue lolling out at wide and unseeing eyes squint in a human expression of glee. "Oh, your friend? I had thought that was your companion with us, but it seems the opposite! What joy, a new guest!" They prance about your ankles excitedly, their long tail sweeping through the air. "It must want to join your journey. What a lovely pursuit, to become a companion..." Moddhey Dhoo looks at you plaintively.

[1] ---- You'll decide when you reach the door.
[2] ---- No.
[3] ---- Well, perhaps...

 

[dancew/me!]

It might be that thing we saw in the window before, but who knows? We should get to the door first, and if it's dangerous, we can book it!
[x] ---- You'll decide when you reach the door.

And to the door you swiftly arrive. Moddhey Dhoo weaves in and out of trees, disappearing and reappearing like a shadow cast by a flickering candlelight. Their voice echoes about the tale, bone-like trees, gleeful and nonsensical as they spout more pedantic monologue about the wonders of companionship, and how beautiful it is. Trailing behind them are the dark flakes of their shadowy figure, like soot from the fireplace. They are the only other shadow cast in this brightly lit, evenly spaced forest--aside from your own.

And as you watch the strange creature prance, you feel a gaze rest heavily upon your back.

[1] ---- Turn to meet its gaze.
[2] ---- Do not.

 

[dancew/me!]

Hearing Moddhey's poetic tales of friendship, we might consider that it is actually kind of lonesome out here... wherever this is. Maybe we haven't been putting ourselves out there enough?

[x] ---- Turn to meet its gaze.

You turn. The horizon stretches on forever in a haze. Fog swallows your sight, hiding figures far away lying in wait. The trees become reaching hands with palms upturned to the sky in its breath. Every branch is finger splitting into fingers, gazing up to the endless nothing in hopes of... something. And between every evenly spaced tree there is that enigmatic fog--until you see it.

[1] ---- Someone you never really knew.
[2] ---- Someone you hated.
[3] ---- Someone you loved.
[4] ---- Someone you don't know at all.

 

[dancew/me!]

[x] ---- Someone you loved.

Nothing says romance like a nightmarish hell train.

You spot them, and something bittersweet crawls in your chest. You don't know their name, but you know the swoop of their shoulders and the callouses on their fingers.

You know how their favorite food is apple pie, how they have an insatiable sweet tooth (but hate chocolate,) how they slouch to the side when they read. You know that they hate the ocean but love swimming, know how they get cold easily so they always have a jacket on, know how they wear the key you stole around their neck like a trophy of your affection.

You know how they hurt you the worst of anyone you knew. Of anyone you know.

You know they did it because they wanted you to be happy.

And somehow, despite knowing so much, you can see so little of their wretched, beautiful face. Somehow, you can't remember much of anything at all--the rest of the memories sitting behind an enigmatic fog in your mind. The rest of the things you can recall are all likes or dislikes, quirks and tidbits about them that come easily like muscle twitches.

You feel that desperate longing arise in you again.

[1] ---- Call out.
[2] ---- Remain silent.
[3] ---- Look closer.
[4] ---- Leave.

 

[dancew/me!]

Are they lost here like you are? Why haven't they said anything yet? Maybe we're just losing it and it's not really them. Either way, we gotta know.

[x] -- Call out.

You call out to them.

They seem different, somehow, something integral missing from their husk as they drift closer to you without much word. It's almost as if they're hanging from a hook, like a baited worm to a fish, and the wire is bringing them closer to you on an invisible current.

Their features become less obscured the closer they come, but you feel an eerie foreboding by their lack of response.

Moddhey Dhoo has become silent, and you hadn't noticed earlier in your internal rambling. You hesitate to take your eyes off of the strange, limp posture of your old friend, but when you look for the dog... that friendly dog has taken a defensive stance against the fog. Their ears are pinned back and their mouth parts in an open-mouthed snarl.

You look back to the figure again, but it has become suddenly much closer than it had been before. You startle, and bump into the door.

You can see their face, now, that they are leaving the fog. It is twisted. The features are not human, they are a strange... amalgamation. It hurts to look at. When you see them, you think of a thousand people you have passed on the streets before. You think of a thousand different combinations of eyes, of mouths, of noses, of ears, of voices, of laughter, of smiles. You do not know their face. You know of faces, but you do not know theirs. And it frightens you, it hurts to think, it hurts to see. To know someone is forgotten.

What you understand is that this is not your old friend. This is a nightmare that looks almost the same.

[1] ---- Stand your ground. They have not become malicious yet.
[2] ---- Turn away and flee. You will not wait and see.

 

[MystSky]

Oh, what a plot twist!

[2] ---- Turn away and flee. You will not wait and see.
If it's not our old friend we run away.

 

[dancew/me!]

You spring for the door and fall through between the cars, rushing wind and total, crushing darkness like a reversed flashbang to your senses as you dive for the next handle. You can hear a frantic whispering cacophany follow your fleeing footsteps, and wonder if the creature can bring itself to the next car with you. The sound of its numerous, unintelligable voices is like sharp nails picking through the threads of your memories, stringing you along into a horrible tapestry of remorse and guilt over strangers never truly known.

Between your actions and the milisecond thoughts racing through your mind, the dark figure of Moddhey Dhoo leaps across the gap and into the open doorframe waiting for you to greet its new horrors. He barks at you to follow, and so you follow, a puppet on strings.

The new door shuts behind you. There is a sense of finality to it. And a silence.

A thick, heavy silence.

You stand on slightly shaky legs before the shut door. Several thrums of your frantic heartbeat later, you lean your back against the cold metal, and slowly slide down to sit against it. Moddhey Dhoo whines in that sweet, doggy way, before padding over to you and laying his great big head in your lap.

There is no more whispering.

Your chest heaves with great effort, and with the soft and furry support of the great hound upon you, the panic eases away to rationality. You decide not to let yourself linger on the existence and experience of the car you just fled. There was clearly something psychological it did to you.

You feel... a mix of things. But of them all, one thing stands out the most.

[1] ---- Excitement and wonder. What an adventure you've had thus far, despite the beast you have encountered.
[2] ---- Fear. You're shivering violently. What was that thing, and how did it...? Why is it alive?
[3] ---- Curiosity and clarity. This is no dream, and you have a new mission beyond getting off the train: surviving what is in it.

 

[Caroline1539]

We've had a lot of experiences, but the thing we just fled from was far worse than anything else we've seen so far.

[2] ---- Fear. You're shivering violently. What was that thing, and how did it...? Why is it alive?