We departed Penfordshire Station with every carriage full, steam blasting away into the grey summer skies of the Peak district. By the time I noticed how unusually quiet it had become, I was too late to do anything but hide in the luggage compartments beneath the seats and wait for my stop to be announced.
All throughout the journey I'd heard the doors of the other compartments open and close, heard the sounds of papers being rustled and throats being cleared but at the time I didn't realised those weren't done by human hands. Even now I find myself questioning just how human the fellows who had once shared my own compartment were.
They all seemed human enough with the usual minor eccentricities one grows to expect from small towns within the vast countryside. In hindsight they were poorly disguised creatures whose origins I have yet to discover, no matter how many times I board that same cursed train, no matter nowmany hidden places I crouch in wait formy stop while listening as intently as I can.
I think they all recognise me by now, upon my last visit I was welcomed by name and invited to a carriage wherein a letter had been left addressed to me. It simply said Keep watching and gave no hint as to what I should be watching for.
That was the first time I switched carriages before the train had left the station and I am convinced that is what saved me from the same fate as the three hundred or so other passengers who have since vanished from the train and into the ether. Something certainly had a go at the glass of my former compartment and left a great deal of bird carcasses in my luggage. Very unseemly.
Upon my next journey I endeavour to hide my human nature and pray this tricks them.
Should all go well I may indeed find out what their plans for us are, or at the least where the missing go.
Otherwise, this letter will be released alongside my Last Will and Testament.
God be with me.
All throughout the journey I'd heard the doors of the other compartments open and close, heard the sounds of papers being rustled and throats being cleared but at the time I didn't realised those weren't done by human hands. Even now I find myself questioning just how human the fellows who had once shared my own compartment were.
They all seemed human enough with the usual minor eccentricities one grows to expect from small towns within the vast countryside. In hindsight they were poorly disguised creatures whose origins I have yet to discover, no matter how many times I board that same cursed train, no matter nowmany hidden places I crouch in wait formy stop while listening as intently as I can.
I think they all recognise me by now, upon my last visit I was welcomed by name and invited to a carriage wherein a letter had been left addressed to me. It simply said Keep watching and gave no hint as to what I should be watching for.
That was the first time I switched carriages before the train had left the station and I am convinced that is what saved me from the same fate as the three hundred or so other passengers who have since vanished from the train and into the ether. Something certainly had a go at the glass of my former compartment and left a great deal of bird carcasses in my luggage. Very unseemly.
Upon my next journey I endeavour to hide my human nature and pray this tricks them.
Should all go well I may indeed find out what their plans for us are, or at the least where the missing go.
Otherwise, this letter will be released alongside my Last Will and Testament.
God be with me.
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