|sent from: London, UK. destination: Mill Valley, California, USA|
The train carriage was dark and empty when I boarded. I checked the destination on the board several times. It pulled away as scheduled, though my carriage remained devoid of passengers, except me. The lights flickered on and we moved through the London night, rain beading and streaking on the windows. The clatter of the tracks hammered through, but something in the rocking lulled me into a stupor after a long day. I don’t think I fell asleep, and if I did it was only for a moment.
I became aware, although we had made no stops and no passenger had passed into my carriage, that I was no longer alone. All in one breath, the air had cooled to freezing, and a cloud of breath condensed as I exhaled. I could see the top of my fellow passenger’s head on a seat nearby, her hair – I’m certain she was a woman – matted and dirty. A fetid odour reached me, as stagnant as the remains of a drained pond. She muttered furiously and unintelligibly to herself. Unnerved, I disembarked at the next stop, although it was several before my regular station.
The next day, feeling foolish, I quizzed the guard about any strange goings on the night before. Without hesitation, he told me a tale, a tale of such hideous character I cannot begin to recount here, but take it from me, if you see this appararition, run.