Death's Day

The shadows melted into one another as he walked along the pathway, swimming like entrails, in and out of themselves. There was a way the being walked, for he was not exactly a man; he glided along the road, his feet barely touching the ground. There was gloom in his movement, measured gloom as if he had a purpose to bring exactly that wherever he went. Perhaps his human nature or the lack of it would have been seen had it been his face was not covered with the hood of an old, dark cloak. He was silent. Presently, he stopped before a railway track and waited. The wind gathered momentum and pulled the trees behind him the way a passionate lover pulls the hair of his partner in the heat of a sexual moment.

In the distance, far from where he stood, the sound of a train crawling along the railway could be heard, a millipede on all legs.

“Do you think she will be happy to see us?” Greg asked the elderly woman by his side. The woman had a hair full of grey hair and looked to be in her sixties. The man speaking to her appeared to be in his seventies and had webs made of years of living and experience crisscrossing his face. They both wore colorful hoodies made from the same material.

“Certainly, Greg, you are her grandfather,” the woman replied, looking at Greg affectionately; it was a look that had weathered the storm and even now still stood strong.

“Okay,” Greg replied. He held her hand and smiled into her face. They looked like the stuff motivational stories were made of, the way they stared into each other’s eyes.

The train was filled with mostly aging people, men and women who had seen better in life and looked content with what they had made of it. Their faces told different stories, some of nostalgia, some of regret, but the overhanging feeling in the train was contentment. The only young people in the train were two college students who looked out of place.

“Sonia, I had a bad dream last night,” Greg said.

The old woman, now identified as Sonia , turned sharply to look at Greg. It was obvious that the two of them were partners; their attention was reserved only for both of them, and it seemed like the other passengers in the train did not exist.

“Was it about this train?” Sonia asked. There was a note of alarm in her voice.

“Yes,” he replied.

“It derailed?”

“Yes, how did you know that? Were you in my dream?”

“No, I think... I think we had the same dream.”

Sonia looked genuinely worried now.

“In the dream, I did not see my grandchild. I could not, did not get to see her,” Greg said.

“The gods forbid it,” the older woman said, ending her declaration with the snapping of her fingers.

Outside, the darkness pushed in on the train like it was trying to strangle it. Lightning flashed, revealing a shadow standing by the side of the road. Greg started when he saw it. When the train continued moving, he wondered if he had really seen what he thought he saw or if it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.

“What is it?” Sonia asked, looking at Greg’s frightened face. The light in the train reflected off the rim of his glasses.

“What is it, Greg?” The panic in her voice had climbed a decibel higher.

In response, the train gave out a drawn out honk. The lights in the train went out and the sound of pandemonium ensued. Bumbling like a blind man in the dark, the train veered off the rail and crashed into the empty supermarket by the side of the road. It burst into flames amidst screams and agonized cries. The explosion that followed silenced the cries.

From the darkness, illuminated by the fire engulfing the train, the figure that had been waiting by the roadside approached the wreckage. He stopped before it and pulled the hood from his face. His face was a horrid affair, a decaying patch with worms crawling out of it. He raised his hand towards the train and the train shivered violently, even as it was still burning. Wraiths of bodies, translucent and glimmering a ghoulish blue, rose from the wreckage. The faces on these wraiths were confused and they seemed to be drawn to the being rather than moving towards the figure by the roadside. On sighting him, they started screaming, high-pitched, agonized screams that pierced through the darkness. But the more they screamed, the faster they were forced towards him. It was all over in minutes. The fire went out, the noise died and silence returned to the cold, dark night.