prologue: shutter

The "ghost train" is a widespread rumour that originated from Sinnoh.

Although there is no concrete evidence or proof of the train, many people have claimed to seen it. Most accounts report it to have arrived after the last train has gone; at midnight, that is, after the last train in the station has gone.

However, none of the information above is confirmed. This is because none of the reports match up-every person who has informed the police about it has described the train differently, be it in terms of colour or design.

Researchers believe that the rumour is somehow connected to the multiple disappearances that occur monthly, at the same time the train is said to appear. Police investigations have resulted in nothing and although the government is trying to rectify the situation somewhat, results have been fruitless.

The location of the supposed train is varied. Though earlier cases of the train were said to have been in Solcean Town's train station, disappearances and rumours have come from more and more locations in the past year.

The Sinnoh government is currently working to find out the truth behind the rumour and the location of the missing citizens.

-

The man let out a short sigh as he closed the document, taking a moment to rub his temples and locate the email tab that had been buried amongst a million other searches for miscllaneous-perhaps necessary-items.

A glance at the clock told him that he'd gone off track once again. The article had been due at ten, really, but he hoped that a couple of hours wouldn't make much of a difference.

He hesitated for a moment before attaching the document in his message and sending it off to be edited.

If he could, he would have included so much more, but his article wasn't the main focus of the magazine and he had to deal with that. He would have gotten a earful from the editor if he'd written down all that he'd wanted to.

After all, the phenomenon had been unheard of. Every bit of it was interesting in a way that made his blood tingle with excitement-what could be the reason behind such a rumour? What were the possibilities of such an event being true?

The rush of curiosity had led him to read blog post after blog post, recount after recount-until he was pretty sure he'd been through every post that had ever been made about the train.

It was a pity that he couldn't share that with the world. The last time he'd tried to submit his true thoughts on the Old Chateau, the editing team had cut off all his rambles and half-valid points, and the final length of the piece had ended up at half its original length.

He moved his cursor to close the window out of habit, but something told him to keep looking for just a while longer.

Perhaps it was the fact that he'd gotten hooked on everything to deal with the train. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd gotten attached to his work and didn't want to let go of all his research-and perhaps it was a mix of both reasons.

In a moment of haste, he clicked on the first tab once again. It wasn't anything much; just an official recount that he was pretty sure he could recite from memory by now, and he closed it without giving it much thought.

Slowly, he made his way through the dozens of tabs he'd left open, picking his way through blog posts and leaving only the most interesting posts for last. He read through them once more before closing them with a sigh, leaving him with nothing but a cluttered desktop.

His eyes was burning from the hours he'd spent hunched over his computer. The words were blurring together on the screen; did he need to get new glasses again?

He did little more than stare into space after he'd closed the laptop. It was approaching midnight, and the logical thing to do would be to go to sleep, but part of him wanted to go down to his town's train station and see if the rumoured train really did exist.

It was a stupid, fleeting thought. There was no way to pinpoint what station it would arrive at, after all, and even if he knew where it was going to come, he couldn't just march inside unprepared.

Most people wouldn't even have such a morbidly curious thought. Sure, some were curious, but it was never to his extent-no one would want to approach a place which could result in them disappearing off the face of the earth.

Except him.

It wasn't that he didn't care about his life. It was just that rumours like that always drove him insane with how much precious information they held inside.

A sigh escaped his pursed lips as he collapsed on his laptop, ignoring the heat from the poor, overworked device and attempting to close his eyes.

He needed to sleep.

-

A rush of images greeted him, and it wasn't all too surprising after he got past the initial rush of confusion.

After all, it was the same thing every time. A flash of brown hair, a glimpse of eyes that always turned away before he could get a closer look, and a thousand different scenarios of the girl before him disappearing from the world.

He didn't know why it was that specific girl and those specific scenes. It was something even his countless hours of research couldn't solve.

She'd jumped off a building this time. He was on the roof with her, only mere feet behind, but her cloudy gaze stared right through him and to the empty sky at his back before she stepped off the concrete.

There was no sound as she fell; only the hollow whoosh of a breeze passing by, and morbid curiosity led him to the very ledge where she'd stood seconds ago. A quick glance downward and the world dissolved before he could see her body.

His eyes saw nothing but black for a few moments, and he assumed he was waking up, that the dream had been shorter than usual, but his feet soon landed on a solid surface that wasn't the floor of his bedroom.

Was it another dream? He wasn't sure; it had just been the same one for years, and he was a little unsettled by the sudden change.

Daring to open his eyes, he glanced around the place. It was empty, with a heavy touch of surrealism that most dreams had, and it took him a few moments to realise that he was standing in Solcean Town's train station.

The digital clock on the wall blinked back at him, large red numbers burning from how dim his surroundings were. It took his exhaustion-hazed mind a while to figure out what the significance behind 12.03 AM.

The train tracks were empty. He was beginning to doubt his original thoughts; this was a dream, after all-it would be illogical for the train to all be in someone's head when people went missing in real life.

Then again, nothing about the rumour was very logical in the first place.

He sat himself down on one of the benches, watching the clock's numbers changed to match the next minute and letting himself drown in the comforting silence that cloaked him. His fingers trembled-he didn't know if it was from fear or anticipation-and he prayed for his bizarre dream to have some sort of connection to the myth he'd gotten so invested in.

And his prayer was answered.

The sound of a vehicle's engine startled him, and he lifted his gaze from the ground to see a train arriving. It appeared different from the standard trains he'd rode on before-the entirety of its exterior was painted a creamy colour, and it almost seemed to give off a faint glow from the murkiness of the station.

He didn't dare to rise at first; instead, he was transfixed by the mere sight of the train, and the fact that it was real nearly drove him mad with excitement.

Then, without a single creak or noise, the white door slid open, and the vehicle merely remained there, as if waiting for someone to board the train.

For all the thoughts that had been running through his mind, he hadn't thought that he'd even get to such a sight.

And then it clicked.

Of course, his mind chided, because he'd failed to notice the most obvious thing about the predicament he was stuck in. I'm supposed to go in.

He'd thought briefly about going down to see if the rumour was true, but he hadn't expected the train to choose him as its next victim.

And that was a bit of a stupid thought-couldn't the person simply just walk away?-but his question was answered when his feet started moving by themselves.

It was as if an invisible force was pulling him towards the tracks. Slowly, his right foot took a step, and then his left foot did the same. His mind told him that it wasn't safe; wasn't normal, as excited as he was, and that he hadn't prepared anything to record his experience with.

The man patted his pockets in desperation. His phone wasn't there.

Still, his body ignored those miscllaneous thoughts and pressed forward. He didn't try to fight back; part of him still wanted to know the truth, and he let the invisible strings at work continue whatever they were doing.

A few more moments and the train was right before him.

There was no hesitation as he stepped into the carriage. It was just as plain as its exterior; it contained the bare minimum that a regular train would have, and the entire thing was painted the same shade of eggshell white.

He couldn't have walked out even if he wanted to. The train doors slid close the moment his foot touched the pale floor, and the same strange urge that had led him to the vehicle kept him rooted to the same spot until he could hear the whir of an engine starting.

The train started to move, and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

Seriously? That was it?

He'd expected some greater scheme going on, some of the drama that most reporters thirsted for, but there was nothing of interest at all. He'd expected tears, darkness, whatever his overactive imagination had put out before, but he hadn't known that it would be as simple as boarding a regular train.

A sigh escaped his lips as he seated himself on one of the seats, wondering where the trains' destination was, and stared ahead.

Some part of him was still morbidly excited to go, but he couldn't help but fill a rush of disappointment amidst all the adrenaline.

The man glanced out of the window. There was only black upon black, as if he was stuck in a never-ending tunnel-and that was a sign in itself, because he remembered that Solcean's trains spent most of their time outside, where he would be greeted by the sight of vibrant bushes and the town's wild flowers.

Now, there was nothing-he squinted to try to make out the dark bricks of the tunnel, but there was only ebony outside.

The engine had quieted down, so much so that he could hear every shift he made, and he was sure that this was all he would ever need to understand the meaning of "so quiet you could hear a pin drop".

In some ways, it alleviated the disappointment. In others, it formed a tight knot in his stomach.

Nevertheless, he stayed put.

He closed his eyes, trying to document whatever little information he found in his mind before he forgot.

-

When he came to, the train had slid to a stop, and the atmosphere was stiller than before.

-

im hungry bye