The blinking lights of the trains passing by him eventually became nothing more than background to the endless voids of those tunnels. The train tracks mock him with their infinite reach, and he finds himself trapped here, over and over wondering if this is all that's left for him.
Insatisfaction left him here. And it burned his soul like a parasite, eating away at the flesh and bone that no longer existed.
It was true, he was dead. Or if he wasn't before, he definitely is now. This place is not an infinite line. Its a looping room. He knows that, because the blood stains left from his attempts at a true end still remained.
The tracks. The walls. The shards of glass. The rope in the corner. All of these still stained with the distant memory of a fading life that refused to go out.
He'd always heard the swift movement of the trains when they pass him by, moving alongside him, yet never stopping. Its usually the same train, as he can see the markings of bloodied hands from when he'd jumped in front of it.
Frankly, Wilbur was sick of this all. He hated this place. Hated this afterlife. Is this it? Was this his hell for his sins in the world of the living? If so, then maybe he feels regret. Not quite, though. His mind is slowly but surely growing more and mor untethered, and yet--
Yet, something new.
Instead of the sound of a swift moving train, he'd heard the very soft yet slow chug of a train. It sounded old and mechanical, and he found himself looking with curiosity down the dark tunnels.
And instead of the sleek, white designs of the train, with the red stains on the walls, he found an old fashioned train, clad in red and black paint, with smoke exiting the top. It looked straight out of the 80s.
And as its conducter, rather than the green-wearing blonde with his porcelain mask, there was a shorter blonde, dressed in red and black, with giant eyes and a small smile, with a small gong on the head of the train to replace the bell.
He rang the gong as he pulled up to the station, waving at Wilbur, who could only stare in disbelief. What the hell was this?!
"Oi! Are you coming or not??" The smaller man asked, almost teasingly. Wilbur took note of the feathered wings behind his back that reminded him so much of his father. But pulled out of his thoughts by the gong singing, he immediately stood up.
"One second--!! I'm coming!!" He yelled out neae immediately. He didn't care who this was, or what was going on. This was his chance, he has to take it, or he will hate himself forever. Jumping onto one of the carts, he immediately noticed the stock of items, and his stomach suddenly growled with realization that he hasn't eaten. Not that he needed to, but the sight of food..
"Go on, eat something! You can pay me back later on!" The man called from the front, and Wilbur could feel the train once again begin to move. He couldn't help himself---
His hands dug into the food. Cake, cookies, golden carrots, he tried at least one of each. It tasted amazing. He felt tears brimming in the corners of his eyes.
It tastes real, it feels real.
I'm getting out of here--!
The smile on his face wasn't missed by the conducter, who watched him in the corners of his eyes.
This will be interesting.
YOU ARE READING
Watcher's Apprentice
FanfictionA train arrives to Wilbur's station, but in contrast to the modern and sleek design of all the trains that passed, the train was old. It ran on coal with smoke blowing from the top, and carts full of items instead of people. A blonde head poked out...
