The End Of The Train

So there we were, watching a young stranger practice elective surgery on himself with a piece of rock he picked off the floor, surrounded by that awful non-train. One of our group with a psychiatrical bent suggested that the victims viewed it as a train because that was the safest shape their psyche could match to the long winding structure of bone and flesh, but I don’t know if even he was convinced.

We tried to talk to people, to convince anyone at all that they weren’t on a luxurious passenger train, but to no avail. They were fully invested in the illusion and each came up with a convincing reason not to get up. Just as we were getting frustrated J- T- showed his usefulness. I know that I often slate the ridiculous walking ball of ego, but he certainly didn’t become a billionaire without a certain skill with sales, marketing and sly sense.

He had us set up a stall off to one side, then went around the train starting a rumour that a ticket collector would be coming through soon. He soon had the trapped people wriggling free of the muscles, tendons and neural webs that surrounded them and rushing over to us, clamouring for tickets. I was soon busy trying to talk one of them out of paying with his left leg, when the second part of J- T-‘s plan went into action, the part he hadn’t discussed with those of us who didn’t work for him.

Explosions tore through the structure, sending visceral lumps and bone shards flying all over. It was reckless, dangerous and caused more than a few injuries, but I can’t deny that it worked. Whether it was the shock of the explosion, the destruction of the structure or being hit by goblets of flesh it was much easier to convince everyone present that there was not, and had never been a train.

J- T- managed to procure transport for everyone – nearly a hundred people by this point – back to rural Australia’s approximation of civilisation. He caused a great deal of trouble, and still hasn’t explained why he wanted a dinosaur, but I don’t believe we can blame this on him and he did well resolving the situation. I am certainly too tired to investigate more right now. I don’t think the scars for anyone involved, whether physical or mental, will fade for some time.

If you enjoy the story please leave the author a comment, as this makes him very happy. You can also help the Archive block out dreams of trains and dinosaurs by voting at Top Web Fiction.


2 thoughts on “The End Of The Train

  1. Gross! I really liked the train stories, and have been enjoying catching up on the Archive in general! You’ve got a fun format on your hands.



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