It was the kind of urban legend people told to scare each other—a train that never stopped, never changed speed, and never appeared on any official schedule. They called it The Midnight Line.
Elias had heard the stories before. People claimed it appeared on abandoned tracks, picking up lost souls or those who had nowhere else to go. Others swore that if you got on, you’d never return. But Elias wasn’t the type to believe in ghost stories.
One night, after missing the last train home, he found himself wandering through the city’s old rail yard. The air was thick with fog, and the world seemed unusually quiet. That’s when he heard it—a distant, rhythmic chugging.
He turned just in time to see an old-fashioned train emerge from the mist. Its exterior was polished black metal, its windows glowing with a warm, golden light. But the strangest thing was… there were no tracks beneath it.
Elias knew he should run. Every instinct screamed at him to turn away. But something—curiosity, or perhaps something deeper—compelled him forward. The train slowed as it neared him, its doors hissing open. Inside, velvet seats and ornate chandeliers gleamed, and the soft hum of conversation drifted out.
A conductor, dressed in an old-fashioned uniform, tipped his hat. “Are you coming aboard, sir?”
Elias hesitated. “Where does it go?”
The conductor smiled. “Wherever you need to be.”
The air around him felt heavy, like the moment before a storm. He thought of his empty apartment, his dead-end job, the feeling that his life had been standing still for years. He had nowhere to be—so why not?
With a deep breath, he stepped inside. The doors slid shut behind him. The train began to move, faster than any train should. Outside the windows, the city blurred, then faded into something impossible—places he had never seen, moments he had never lived.
Elias turned to the conductor. “What happens now?”
The man simply smiled. “Now, we find out who you really are.”
The train rumbled on, disappearing into the night, never to be seen again.
