THE TALE OF THE BAD ENGINE (REWRITTEN)

THE TALE OF THE BAD ENGINE

 It was the evening before Halloween night on The Island of Sodor, and all the engines were gathered around ready and eager to start their annual tradition of telling ghost stories. The firelighter came to "set the mood", and soon the yard was showered in a warm, orange glow, creating an atmosphere ripe for spooky tales!

The engines took turns telling ghost stories as the moon rose overhead, each trying to outdo the last! They were all enjoying themselves enormously. Even the big engines, who normally didn't have much patience for silly stories, beamed and laughed as Thomas and Percy imitated a ghost haunting an old mansion.

Finally, it was Patrick's turn to tell a story. He hesitated for a moment and curiously looked over to Gordon, Henry, and Edward, who appeared cautious at first, but then beckoned Patrick on.

"Tell it," whispered Gordon. "Go on. It won't hurt."

"I don't know if I should," he whispered back.

"It's up to you, Patrick. It is scary," Edward replied quietly.

"Are you going to tell the story or not?" James said.

The other engines laughed, except for Patrick, who looked a little uneasy.

"Come on!" Thomas and Percy said together.

"Well...alright! Here goes."

And so Patrick began.

"Many years ago, there was an engine that used to work on Sodor. He was never given a name, or I should say, never lived long enough to be given a name. You see, all engines, when they are built, are friendly and hard-working, but once in a while, engines come out bad, and I'm sorry to say that this engine came out very bad indeed. No one knows how he came to be built or what led him to do the things he did, but he left a path of destruction that haunts Sir Topham Hatt I to this very day."

Duck and Oliver looked wide eyed at each other.

"The engine thought himself to be a premier engine from a famous lineage, but he was actually an experimental engine, using only parts of other steam engines. The parts didn't fit together very well and made him very mean-spirited and somewhat...unhinged."

"He was painted blue but probably should have been painted black. It was not uncommon for the engine to insult the others and resort to light sabotage, such as bumping them without warning and misplacing trains, over small, petty squabbles. He was also easy to anger and had fits of rage, taking it out on the trucks and sometimes engines smaller than he was."

"One day, he buffered up to one of these smaller engines and pushed him to the edge of the turntable well, threatening to knock him in if he didn't cater to his every whim."

Edward suddenly gulped, as if a bad memory had flashed across his mind.

"Back then Thomas was painted green and was impressing us all, well except The Bad Engine which I started to call Alfred, during that time there was another engine by the name of Croven, Who was Alfred's friend and a lot more nice to us smaller engines and workmen, had a talk with Alfred and he soon came to a conclusion to kill Thomas, and buffered up to a train of nuclear waste and tried to hit Thomas with but Failed and to make sure He doesn't try again Croven hits the train himself ripping his Smokebox off his frame killing him."

Toby and Henrietta trembled in fear.

"Gordon and Henry were furious and confronted him about his awful behavior. 'Stop bullying engines smaller than you,' they said, but he wouldn't listen. He continued to play spiteful tricks and threatened that if the big engines ever told the controller about it, he'd make them pay and whilst they listened I Didn't stand for it."

"I was thoroughly fed up so much that I along with Gordon got up very early one morning and met the controller at the station. I told him all about what Alfred had done, but the Fat Director's hands were tied since the engine was on loan."

"'I can't do anything but put in a report to the engine's company'," said , mimicking The Fat Director at the time.

"What happened then?" asked Rebecca and Nia.

"Well, Gordon left to take a train, and I remained at the station trying desperately to plead our case. It is said that Alfred was passing through the yard at the time and saw Me. Needless to say, he was immediately suspicious. He confronted Me in the yard and said 'I told you not to tell anyone. You'll get yours!'. I just laughed, believing the engine only to be bluffing."

Patrick suddenly paused. Edward, Gordon and Henry all looked at each other. Gordon gave a motion of the eyes encouraging Patrick to keep going.

"B-but...," Pat continued, "he was most assuredly not bluffing. The next day, I was pulling the express train through the junction to the originally abandoned Wharf when suddenly and without warning, Alfred careened into the back of my coaches. It was an awful noise as wood and metal and stone splintered everywhere, but what was worse was as the noise of the wreck subsided, the screams of the passengers inside those coaches became louder and louder and louder."

The other engines' eyes were glued to Patrick. They didn't dare make a sound.

"The bad engine, knowing I was just up the line, had intentionally missed a signal and plowed into the back of the express train...to get even! The sight of it was awful!" Patrick gagged. "The three rear coaches were smashed to smithereens, and everyone inside those coaches..."

Patrick gulped.

"Everyone inside those three coaches... perished."

The engines gasped!

"Climbing out of the remains of the coaches I screamed at the bad engine 'You've killed my passengers, you've killed my passengers!', but the bad engine didn't care, he just laughed. That was the Final straw for me and I charged at the bad engine and punched it's buffer beam so hard that it not only broke my fist but also put Alfred back on to the track. 'You have messed with the wrong engine you absolute freak of nature.' Said Alfred and he Charged at with all his force. I had to escape but My leg was burnt, not to mention the bottom of my trousers got caught in a railway spike. So bad that I could not escape in time and just like that, He ran over me, cutting my Left arm clean off.''

Emily and James screamed in horror.

All The engines didn't know what to think.

"The Fat Director came, and seeing the mess, sent Alfred for scrap and gave me my prosthetic arm as well as my balancer. If the controller had only listened to Me and Gordon, the lives of those in the coaches might have been saved. So that is the moral of this story – stand up to evil and fight until the very end, or the evil might just turn you into ghosts!"

Pat gave a loud whistle, making everyone jump!

"Wow, Patrick!" James laughed. "That was a twisted story!"

"I might have to keep the light on tonight," said Percy, and everyone laughed.

Soon, the engines began to leave the yard to get a good night's rest. Gordon, Henry, Patrick and Edward, however, stayed behind.

As soon as the others were out of earshot, Patrick sighed and looked very pale. Gordon and Henry smiled sympathetically.

"A fine performance, Patrick" Applauded Henry "though I know that's not an easy story for you to tell." agreed Gordon

"Do you think they knew who we were talking about?" said Edward.

"The only one who might have known was Thomas, but he was too young at that time to remember," added Henry.

"But do You think Alfred was actually scrapped?" asked Patrick, but Gordon, Henry and Edward didn't answer right away. The four looked up at the moon, feeling uncertain but hopeful that Alfred wouldn't come back to haunt them again.

The End