Short Horror Stories

Train Station Mutilation

In the late 1970's, Richard was traveling by train from his village to another to visit family. He had to change trains at one point, and was dropped off at what amounted to a platform and a hut in the middle of nowhere. There was no one else at the station, and other than a dirt road that led off into the surrounding woods, there was nothing there. Richard, a fearless man, stood his ground and scanned his foreign location. There should at least be another train to stroll by and pick him up. And so Richard waited, and waited... and waited.

He waited for some time, but no train came. It was winter and getting colder and darker, and just about the time he started worrying about a place to stay and some food to eat, an old woman appeared out of the twilight. There was nothing odd about this fragile figure that struck Richard, she appeared to be your typical cookie-baking grandma. Even in the dim light that the train station provided, Richard could see her caring features. Richard did find it odd that such an elderly woman would be at a desolate train stop, but perhaps she was out to grab some late night groceries and stranded like he was.

She asked if he was waiting for a train, and when he said he was, she said it wouldn't be until the following day. She adorned a soft and gentle smile, if anything, her sweet company relieved Richard. She asked if he needed a bed for the night, and offered him a meal and room at her house, which she said was about an hour's walk from the station.

Lodging with locals wasn't unheard of in this area, and Richard wasn't looking forward to a hungry night on a cold platform, so he was glad to accept her offer. He took his suitcase and they set off together down the dark road into the forest. The old woman hobbled off with him and spoke of she makes a mean chicken fried steak. She spoke ever so softly, and her face held such innocence. Richard couldn't believe such luck that he had struck.

However the hike to the old woman's cottage was more than an hour away, more like two, and by the time they arrived at the woman's small, two-story house, Richard was beyond tired and hungry. They went inside and the woman lit some oil lamps and poured some coffee for both of them. It was now the first time John was able to see the woman clearly for they were no longer under those dingy station lights. Admittedly, he was a bit startled to realize that the old woman was actually a man. Not wanting to pry, and too tired to care, Richard finished his coffee and asked where he would be sleeping.

The old woman, or actually old man, led Richard up the stairs to a tiny room with a window that contained a single bed and nothing else. The room was rather dusty with stained, yellowed sheets fitting the twin sized mattress. He thanked him reluctantly, they said goodnight, and he closed the door. Then he locked it, leaving him in the dark.

Somewhat creeped out by this, Richard called to him, but he didn't answer and he heard nothing else. He went to test the doorknob, curious if his ears were just playing tricks on him, but his ears didn't fail, the door was indeed locked. Figuring he would deal with it in the morning, and that he had probably done it by mistake, Richard set his suitcase down and laid on the bed, deciding to make the best of it and get some sleep.

Before he could fall asleep, he felt the urge to piss, and got out of bed, hoping to find a chamber pot or something he could pee in. There was no bathroom attached to the room and leaving his room was already out of the question. Richard got down onto his hands and knees and began to feel under the bed in the darkness, thinking that's where the pot would be if there was one.

Instead, he found a body. It was stiff and dust and cobwebs clung to its decaying flesh and ratted clothes.

Richard, now screaming internally as to not alert the old man, crawled back up onto his feet and vigorously shot his head around in hopes of spying some kind of escape. He went right to the window to see if he could exit the room that way. It was nailed shut.

He knew that if he remained in the room, he was probably a dead man; his future similar to that of the cadaver residing beneath the bed. But he knew if he broke the window and tried to get out that way, there was a good chance that the "old woman" and who knows who else was there would hear him and come into the room before he could get away. Richard felt trap, a sitting duck as he began to formulate a plot.

So he did the only thing he could do. He pulled the rotting and festering body from under the bed, heaved it onto the mattress and covered it with the blanket. Then he got under the bed and waited. He tried his best to control his breathing as he focused his gaze on the door.

About an hour later, he heard footsteps coming slowly up the stairs and then toward the room. The floorboards creaked and moaned as someone walked above them. Then the lock clicked, and the doorknob turned slowly. In the gloom, Richard was able to make out someone move toward the bed. Then he heard several terrific and sickening thuds. The person leering in the darkness had bashed the body on the bed with a large crowbar, which they then dropped onto the floor right in front of Richard. He quickly wrapped both hands over his mouth as he begged and pleaded with himself to remain quiet.

There was silence, deafening silence, then the person went out of the room, and the door was shut again. The footsteps when down the stairs, and then the silence returned.

Richard moved out from under the bed after half an hour passed, grasped the crowbar and began to slowly pry the window open with sweaty, trembling hands. Once the window slid up, he tossed his suitcase out, then dove out himself, not caring what was below him, only worried about what was behind.

Richard landed without too much injury, a sprained ankle at best, and began to run into a field behind the house toward some lights in the far distance. It turned out to be a highway with very few late night cars racing by. He was able to flag one down, though he was hesitant to do so, fearful that he would find the driver to be the elderly man with a crowbar. Thankfully, inside was a man about Richard's age who had no problem with dropping Richard off at the train station.

The station was yet again desolate and within the shadows, Richard swore he could spy a figure lurking about.