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A Night on The Northern Spirit
Outside the express stood the waiting guests, all clad in jackets and such. They gripped heavily onto their tickets as a gust of wind nearly blew them out of their hands.
The face of the purple train ticket had the picture of two skeletons waving from the cab of a locomotive. The back read: "Congratulations! You have been selected for a ride/tour on The One And Only Northern Spirit! Come experience the unique sights and sounds that the express has to offer. We dying to meet your acquaintance, so don't keep your new friends wanting."
When night came, the blood moon hung in the sky as mist gathered in the town, swirling. A towering steam engine with coaches of purple and green made its way through the area, filling the air with the sound of whistles and bells. 'The Northern Spirit', or so claimed the text on its side, visible in the dim glow of light that seemed to gather in the mist from the lights of the passenger cars.
One of the passenger car's doors opened and a tall, dark-skinned man appeared in the doorway. He wore a shabby, blue conductor outfit with a bat-printed necktie, complete with a conductor cap. Some of the guests held back screams and feelings of disgust as they saw the deformation of the man's face. The man seemed to have been seriously injured. A part of his brown face was heavily burned as some flesh and bones were visible. His left eye still hung intact in its socket as it glowed a lifeless white, while the other one had melted into white goo running down his cheek. He glared at the people before him. Judging by the frightened looks on their faces, his graze went right through them. "I assume that y'all are the guests for the evening?" The burnt man asked, his voice sounded deep and raspy.
"Yes, I guess we are," A guest answered. "These tickets told us that we were invited to some sort of tour or something"
The burnt man glared deeper. Shame, I was hoping for guests with some class, but I guess these folks will do nicely. The burnt man thought.
"Greetings, folks. The name is Mr. Winston, but the middle "N" is silent. From what you may have noticed, I am one of the conductors of The Northern Spirit. Because your tour guide is still getting ready, I will be taking care of you for the moment. Right now, I want you all to take a seat in the waiting area, as the tour begins there. But first, I'll be needed those tickets of yours." He stepped out of the doorway and gestured inside.
Despite even warning in their bodies, the guests still decided to climb on board. They handled the conductor their tickets and headed into the seating room. When they entered the area, They were amazed at what they saw. The interior was decorated in a shade of purple and green. From the purple roof and seats to the green fringes around the window, and the green carpet that ran down the aisle. The walls were clothed with purple wallpaper, that was painted with yellow eyes, which blinked and narrowed as the guests entered. The only thing that wasn't purple or green was the golden, dim-lighted chandelier which swung softly in the dead-still air.
The guests were so fixated on the interior, they didn't have enough time to pick a seat, for after the engine's whistle had sounded, the express roughly jerked forward, knocking them all off their feet.
After a chuckle, Mr. Winston resumed his role. "Sorry about that. The engine does that from time to time."
After dusting themselves off, they each sat down in the leather seats. Mr. Winston hurried up to the front and turned to face the crowd.
"Now before we start, does anyone here have any problems with ghosts, zombies, or anything of that nature?" Mr. Winston said.
"As long as you don't have any black magic or some voodoo-stuff on here," Said a male guest, slurring his words a bit. "Then, I won't have a problem with anything."
"Okay, that's understandable, but I want to inform you, folks, that many of the ghosts that reside here are harmless at most, but there are few expectations that we can't get rid of, so take caution if you please. Now, while you folks sit here, I'm going to go and check up on your tour guide." The Man turned to exit but stopped in his tracks and turned back to the guests. "And before the tour begins, the Express has some policies that I have to address and they are no use of flash photography, keep together at all times, abide the tour guide instructions, and above all else...Don't. bother. the. spirits. While they are welcoming, they do like their visitors at a distance."
With a tip from his cap, he slid open the door, exited the room, and with a loud bang, shut the door.
...
In a dim-lighted room, inside one of the sleeping cars, a man stood in front of a mirror examining his face. He could make out circles that were forming around his eyes, maybe he needs to start sleeping early. Before leaving home, he tried fixing his hair to look more appealing, but after many failed attempts, he decided to hide it under his conductor cap.
The room lit up for a moment as Mr. Winston appeared in a cloud of flames behind the man. The man smiled seeing his friend's presence. "Have the guests arrived?" Ask the man, turning his back to the mirror.
"Yes, Vincent. A lot of them in fact." Mr. Winston said. "Sadly, They are not the fancier type we hope for. I guess we know who the smart ones are in this town."
"Oh, Leroy, it doesn't matter what they are," Vincent replied, stepping closer to Leroy. "What matters is the number of screams that we'll be getting' from them durin' this little tour of ours."
"Yeah, but we can be a lot more selective with our choice of guests," Leroy said. "The more wealthy they are, the more worthy is their screams."
"Yes, yes, yes, I know the rules, for I'm the one who enforces them." Vincent grabbed a jar of spiders from the mirror stand. "Have you seen Jasper around, he's our entertainer tonight and nobody has seen a sight of him anywhere today?"
"Nope, haven't heard his annoying singing today. But knowing him, he's probably up to his usual tricks and gimmicks."
"Well, I hope he doesn't miss his part, or else this's going to affect his pay." Opening the lid of the spider's jar, he snatched up a green tarantula. It's round body pulse like a heartbeat, with its little legs squirming in Vincent's fingertips. Vincent eyed the little bugger with delicious interest. "Well, here's a little snack for luck." With a smooth motion, Vincent tossed the tarantula into his mouth and proceeded to chew. The small swashy sound, the gooey taste of slime and webs, and the scent of vinegar, which his wife added. Just for extra luck, he went for another spider. As he opened to eat it, Leroy could make out the liquefied remains of the tarantula on Vincent's teeth. Green goo stained the top rows of his teeth, while a leg was logged in between his bottom ones.
Leroy watched on in disgust as Vincent ate the second one, nearly wanting to vomit his lunch of fried fingers from earlier. "You nasty, you know that?"
"Oh, come on, Leroy," Vincent said, screwing the lid back onto the jar. "You can't judge it if you haven't tried it."
Settling aside the jar, Vincent wiped the gunk from his teeth and reached for a candle holder laying on the mirror stand. "Wish me luck, Leroy. It is time to give our guests a night which they shouldn't ever forget." Vincent laughed as he disappeared with a flash of lighting.
"I need to find a better job," Leroy mumbled to himself.
…
Back in the passenger car, the guest begins to socialize among themselves.
"What a strange conductor for an express like this to have?" Said a guest with a bowler on his head.
"They just want to set the mood, so I guess having a normal man watching us will be too comfortable." Another guest spoke up.
"Yeah, but you least think they can clean up the place. I can see dust particles in the air." A female guest replied.
They snapped out of their conversation when they heard the door at the front slide opened and a man stepped through. In his hand, he held a triple candle holder with the candles burning with purple flames. Everyone winched in disgust as they took in the man's appearance.
He was tall and what appeared to be a lanky man. his grey, skull-like face, contrasted against his dark, raggedy hair. He wore a white shirt with a black spider web-print necktie, a blue jacket that extended to his knees, and a conductor hat. He smiled, revealing his yellow teeth, as he began to speak in the tone of an elegant, southern.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, aboard The Northern Spirit. Once, a fine luxury on the rails to be rode. But now, nothin' more than a ghastly legend left to be told. I, Mr. Cain, will be your conductor and guide for this bone-chillin' ride. It's an honor to be in the company of such lovely guests this evenin'."
The conductor gestured to the door with his wrinkled hand, his boney fingers outstretched. "Now with that said, let’s begin our tour by moving on to the next car. Stay together now and keep open your eyes, for you don't know what could have been planned for your demise.”
The Guests moved from the car into the next one with tense. They entered and were instantly startled by the sight before them. The passenger car was much darker than the one before. Cobwebs, with spiders the size of a human hand, litter each corner of the area. Sitting In the seats were rotten, animated human carcasses. Some wore expensive suits and dresses, fitted with top hats and jewelry. Their bodies were mostly skeletal, as the small bit of dried flesh, barely clung to their bones. But, what disturbed the guests the most were their eyes. They were sunken into their skulls, with a red, hellish glow to them. The ghoulish figures turned to watch the guests as they moved down the aisle.
"Don't mind them, they're just hitching a ride." Mr. Cain spoke in a tone of slight glee. “Now, Y'all must be wondering what is this place and what are these ghosts, correct?" Mr. Cain asked. "Well, I'll let you on about the history of this express."
Mr. Cain swirled his finger around one of the candles. The flame morphed and encircled itself around The Man's finger like a ring. Mr. Cain lifted his flaming finger to his mouth and blew. The fire floated in mid-air above the guest heads as it took the form of a large spinning vortex. The guests awed as images started to appear in the burning air: A couple dancing together, two kids pulling a prank on a passenger from under the seat, and finally, the express pulling into a station.
"Wonderful memories, ain't it?" Mr. Cain said. "This express is the of the once-famous express train, The Northern Eagle. Created in 1945, The express operated The Northern and Centerline for eleven years. During that time, the Express became a huge success. People of great wealth and fame were dying to travel the rails with style. Many people came from around the world to visit and take a ride on it. Heck, parties and events were thrown here so regularly, that a ballroom car was added. Oh yes, it was a swell time back then. Then all suddenly, things started to go downhill."
"During its final year's, the express had gotten a suspicious amount of reports involving deadly accidents with both staff and passengers, which resulted in urban legends floatin' around about the express being cursed. Of course, the crew didn't believe the foolish assumptions, but the outside world failed to, as priests and paranormal investigators kept appearing, begging for explanations. The railway didn't' pay no mind, as they have a business to run." Mr. Cain took a deep breath as an added look fell across his face. In the vortex, the images change to show The Northern Eagle traveling towards a tunnel, going through a mountain. "But, if you know how the tale ends, you'll wish they pay attention to those warnings, for on one tragic day, in 1955, The Expres disappeared while going through one of Arizona's gorgeous landmarks, The Devil Canyon."
The image showed The express entering the tunnel, then pan up just in time revealing a lightning bolt striking the tip of the mountain, delivering an electric charge down the sides. The vortex closed upon itself and disappeared into a ball of fire.
"Now while the express is no longer used for transport these days, a new railway has managed to transform this wonderful express into a ghostly tour for visitors to experience the hidden horrors of the once Northern Eagle. Now With that said, let's continue with our little tour, For the next car is a sight to behold."
© All Rights Reserved
The face of the purple train ticket had the picture of two skeletons waving from the cab of a locomotive. The back read: "Congratulations! You have been selected for a ride/tour on The One And Only Northern Spirit! Come experience the unique sights and sounds that the express has to offer. We dying to meet your acquaintance, so don't keep your new friends wanting."
When night came, the blood moon hung in the sky as mist gathered in the town, swirling. A towering steam engine with coaches of purple and green made its way through the area, filling the air with the sound of whistles and bells. 'The Northern Spirit', or so claimed the text on its side, visible in the dim glow of light that seemed to gather in the mist from the lights of the passenger cars.
One of the passenger car's doors opened and a tall, dark-skinned man appeared in the doorway. He wore a shabby, blue conductor outfit with a bat-printed necktie, complete with a conductor cap. Some of the guests held back screams and feelings of disgust as they saw the deformation of the man's face. The man seemed to have been seriously injured. A part of his brown face was heavily burned as some flesh and bones were visible. His left eye still hung intact in its socket as it glowed a lifeless white, while the other one had melted into white goo running down his cheek. He glared at the people before him. Judging by the frightened looks on their faces, his graze went right through them. "I assume that y'all are the guests for the evening?" The burnt man asked, his voice sounded deep and raspy.
"Yes, I guess we are," A guest answered. "These tickets told us that we were invited to some sort of tour or something"
The burnt man glared deeper. Shame, I was hoping for guests with some class, but I guess these folks will do nicely. The burnt man thought.
"Greetings, folks. The name is Mr. Winston, but the middle "N" is silent. From what you may have noticed, I am one of the conductors of The Northern Spirit. Because your tour guide is still getting ready, I will be taking care of you for the moment. Right now, I want you all to take a seat in the waiting area, as the tour begins there. But first, I'll be needed those tickets of yours." He stepped out of the doorway and gestured inside.
Despite even warning in their bodies, the guests still decided to climb on board. They handled the conductor their tickets and headed into the seating room. When they entered the area, They were amazed at what they saw. The interior was decorated in a shade of purple and green. From the purple roof and seats to the green fringes around the window, and the green carpet that ran down the aisle. The walls were clothed with purple wallpaper, that was painted with yellow eyes, which blinked and narrowed as the guests entered. The only thing that wasn't purple or green was the golden, dim-lighted chandelier which swung softly in the dead-still air.
The guests were so fixated on the interior, they didn't have enough time to pick a seat, for after the engine's whistle had sounded, the express roughly jerked forward, knocking them all off their feet.
After a chuckle, Mr. Winston resumed his role. "Sorry about that. The engine does that from time to time."
After dusting themselves off, they each sat down in the leather seats. Mr. Winston hurried up to the front and turned to face the crowd.
"Now before we start, does anyone here have any problems with ghosts, zombies, or anything of that nature?" Mr. Winston said.
"As long as you don't have any black magic or some voodoo-stuff on here," Said a male guest, slurring his words a bit. "Then, I won't have a problem with anything."
"Okay, that's understandable, but I want to inform you, folks, that many of the ghosts that reside here are harmless at most, but there are few expectations that we can't get rid of, so take caution if you please. Now, while you folks sit here, I'm going to go and check up on your tour guide." The Man turned to exit but stopped in his tracks and turned back to the guests. "And before the tour begins, the Express has some policies that I have to address and they are no use of flash photography, keep together at all times, abide the tour guide instructions, and above all else...Don't. bother. the. spirits. While they are welcoming, they do like their visitors at a distance."
With a tip from his cap, he slid open the door, exited the room, and with a loud bang, shut the door.
...
In a dim-lighted room, inside one of the sleeping cars, a man stood in front of a mirror examining his face. He could make out circles that were forming around his eyes, maybe he needs to start sleeping early. Before leaving home, he tried fixing his hair to look more appealing, but after many failed attempts, he decided to hide it under his conductor cap.
The room lit up for a moment as Mr. Winston appeared in a cloud of flames behind the man. The man smiled seeing his friend's presence. "Have the guests arrived?" Ask the man, turning his back to the mirror.
"Yes, Vincent. A lot of them in fact." Mr. Winston said. "Sadly, They are not the fancier type we hope for. I guess we know who the smart ones are in this town."
"Oh, Leroy, it doesn't matter what they are," Vincent replied, stepping closer to Leroy. "What matters is the number of screams that we'll be getting' from them durin' this little tour of ours."
"Yeah, but we can be a lot more selective with our choice of guests," Leroy said. "The more wealthy they are, the more worthy is their screams."
"Yes, yes, yes, I know the rules, for I'm the one who enforces them." Vincent grabbed a jar of spiders from the mirror stand. "Have you seen Jasper around, he's our entertainer tonight and nobody has seen a sight of him anywhere today?"
"Nope, haven't heard his annoying singing today. But knowing him, he's probably up to his usual tricks and gimmicks."
"Well, I hope he doesn't miss his part, or else this's going to affect his pay." Opening the lid of the spider's jar, he snatched up a green tarantula. It's round body pulse like a heartbeat, with its little legs squirming in Vincent's fingertips. Vincent eyed the little bugger with delicious interest. "Well, here's a little snack for luck." With a smooth motion, Vincent tossed the tarantula into his mouth and proceeded to chew. The small swashy sound, the gooey taste of slime and webs, and the scent of vinegar, which his wife added. Just for extra luck, he went for another spider. As he opened to eat it, Leroy could make out the liquefied remains of the tarantula on Vincent's teeth. Green goo stained the top rows of his teeth, while a leg was logged in between his bottom ones.
Leroy watched on in disgust as Vincent ate the second one, nearly wanting to vomit his lunch of fried fingers from earlier. "You nasty, you know that?"
"Oh, come on, Leroy," Vincent said, screwing the lid back onto the jar. "You can't judge it if you haven't tried it."
Settling aside the jar, Vincent wiped the gunk from his teeth and reached for a candle holder laying on the mirror stand. "Wish me luck, Leroy. It is time to give our guests a night which they shouldn't ever forget." Vincent laughed as he disappeared with a flash of lighting.
"I need to find a better job," Leroy mumbled to himself.
…
Back in the passenger car, the guest begins to socialize among themselves.
"What a strange conductor for an express like this to have?" Said a guest with a bowler on his head.
"They just want to set the mood, so I guess having a normal man watching us will be too comfortable." Another guest spoke up.
"Yeah, but you least think they can clean up the place. I can see dust particles in the air." A female guest replied.
They snapped out of their conversation when they heard the door at the front slide opened and a man stepped through. In his hand, he held a triple candle holder with the candles burning with purple flames. Everyone winched in disgust as they took in the man's appearance.
He was tall and what appeared to be a lanky man. his grey, skull-like face, contrasted against his dark, raggedy hair. He wore a white shirt with a black spider web-print necktie, a blue jacket that extended to his knees, and a conductor hat. He smiled, revealing his yellow teeth, as he began to speak in the tone of an elegant, southern.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, aboard The Northern Spirit. Once, a fine luxury on the rails to be rode. But now, nothin' more than a ghastly legend left to be told. I, Mr. Cain, will be your conductor and guide for this bone-chillin' ride. It's an honor to be in the company of such lovely guests this evenin'."
The conductor gestured to the door with his wrinkled hand, his boney fingers outstretched. "Now with that said, let’s begin our tour by moving on to the next car. Stay together now and keep open your eyes, for you don't know what could have been planned for your demise.”
The Guests moved from the car into the next one with tense. They entered and were instantly startled by the sight before them. The passenger car was much darker than the one before. Cobwebs, with spiders the size of a human hand, litter each corner of the area. Sitting In the seats were rotten, animated human carcasses. Some wore expensive suits and dresses, fitted with top hats and jewelry. Their bodies were mostly skeletal, as the small bit of dried flesh, barely clung to their bones. But, what disturbed the guests the most were their eyes. They were sunken into their skulls, with a red, hellish glow to them. The ghoulish figures turned to watch the guests as they moved down the aisle.
"Don't mind them, they're just hitching a ride." Mr. Cain spoke in a tone of slight glee. “Now, Y'all must be wondering what is this place and what are these ghosts, correct?" Mr. Cain asked. "Well, I'll let you on about the history of this express."
Mr. Cain swirled his finger around one of the candles. The flame morphed and encircled itself around The Man's finger like a ring. Mr. Cain lifted his flaming finger to his mouth and blew. The fire floated in mid-air above the guest heads as it took the form of a large spinning vortex. The guests awed as images started to appear in the burning air: A couple dancing together, two kids pulling a prank on a passenger from under the seat, and finally, the express pulling into a station.
"Wonderful memories, ain't it?" Mr. Cain said. "This express is the of the once-famous express train, The Northern Eagle. Created in 1945, The express operated The Northern and Centerline for eleven years. During that time, the Express became a huge success. People of great wealth and fame were dying to travel the rails with style. Many people came from around the world to visit and take a ride on it. Heck, parties and events were thrown here so regularly, that a ballroom car was added. Oh yes, it was a swell time back then. Then all suddenly, things started to go downhill."
"During its final year's, the express had gotten a suspicious amount of reports involving deadly accidents with both staff and passengers, which resulted in urban legends floatin' around about the express being cursed. Of course, the crew didn't believe the foolish assumptions, but the outside world failed to, as priests and paranormal investigators kept appearing, begging for explanations. The railway didn't' pay no mind, as they have a business to run." Mr. Cain took a deep breath as an added look fell across his face. In the vortex, the images change to show The Northern Eagle traveling towards a tunnel, going through a mountain. "But, if you know how the tale ends, you'll wish they pay attention to those warnings, for on one tragic day, in 1955, The Expres disappeared while going through one of Arizona's gorgeous landmarks, The Devil Canyon."
The image showed The express entering the tunnel, then pan up just in time revealing a lightning bolt striking the tip of the mountain, delivering an electric charge down the sides. The vortex closed upon itself and disappeared into a ball of fire.
"Now while the express is no longer used for transport these days, a new railway has managed to transform this wonderful express into a ghostly tour for visitors to experience the hidden horrors of the once Northern Eagle. Now With that said, let's continue with our little tour, For the next car is a sight to behold."
© All Rights Reserved
