Samples.

19. Soulburner.

She opened her eyes, a bump on the tracks stealing her from a short-lived nap. The elderly man opposite her was adjusting his spectacles and poring over a newspaper. Across the aisle, a young woman cradled a wailing baby while wiping chocolate from another child's cheek. Ellen tried to block out the irate screeching and gazed out of the window. Grey became green as the train continued on, and her thoughts became self-depreciating as time passed.
"I can't believe I fell asleep. A two hour journey, and I managed to drift off." She mentally berated herself, though falling asleep on the train was very little to cause fuss over. The comfortable warmth inside the carriage protecting those within from the wrath of slate skies and weeping clouds was enough to lull anybody into a nap, however short. Ellen was a person who never failed to blame herself, or to feel the need to punish herself for the most petty of slip-ups. Masochistic as it might've been, it was how she was, and there was very little she could do about it.
The train came to a halt which thoroughly missed the mark of "finesse". The mother across the aisle knocked over her cup of coffee and scalded herself in the process. The cries of the baby died down, much to Ellen's satisfaction. The man opposite sighed with relief as the noise ceased. Three people filed into the carriage. The entrance of the newcomers caused Ellen to become aware of the emptiness of the carriage. The elderly man, the young woman and her children were the only other people there.
"Huh. That's strange." Ellen though aloud.
"Indeed it is." The man responded in a hushed tone, looking up at her.
"Oh sorry." Ellen said quickly.
"No need to apologise. We all get carried away by our thoughts sometimes."
Ellen nodded. It then occurred to her how unusual that short conversation had been. How had he known what she had been thinking? Was he perhaps thinking the same? Of course. He had to have been. The three kids that had boarded the train seated themselves near the door. Two young boys in their late teens, and a girl, possibly seven or eight years old.
The train began moving again, and Ellen sunk back into her seat once more, though her mind was not as relaxed as her body.
One of the boys- the tall blond- was rather loud, bordering obnoxious. The little girl giggled and squealed in excitement at whatever was occurring within their trio.
"Next stop: ..." the speaker whined and crackled. "Your psyche."
The old man looked up from his paper again, this time with worry in his eyes.
"Did I hear that right?" He asked Ellen, who's face was also stricken with the same concern.
"Your psyche?" She quoted.
"I thought so. That can't be right."
"Excuse me," The woman piped up, leaning over to them.
"Hm?"
"You heard the intercom too, right?" She whispered.
"Mummy, where's my psyche?" Her son interrupted.
Ellen and the man nodded grimly.
"I-It's near Brighton, sweetie." The woman lied with a painfully forced smile.
Ellen sat in thought. That had to have been a misspoken announcement. After all, it made no sense. She was on the verge of blaming herself for hearing it wrong, before reminding herself that the other two had heard the same thing.
"What's a psyche?" The blond kid asked loudly.
"Don't talk so loud." The girl hushed him.
"But what is it?" He asked even louder.
"It's your mind." The other boy said quickly.
Ellen scoffed at the blond and quickly turned her attention back to the man as he began to speak.
"My name's Gerald. Best get acquainted, shouldn't we?" He smiled.
"Ellen." She replied.
"I'm Molly." The mother added, trying not to get lost in the conversation.
Before any further words were uttered, the train sped past the stop it was supposed to make. The entire carriage shuddered so violently that the passengers were jolted out of their seats. An ear-splitting scream, followed by manic cackling accompanied the turbulence as the train plunged into the darkness of a tunnel that was most definitely not supposed to be there. Ellen travelled the route every weekend and there had never been a tunnel there previously.
"Fuck!" The blond yelped as he tumbled into the aisle.
"Language!" Gerald barked back to him as he steadied himself. The baby started crying again and the young boy began to sob as well. Molly diverted her attention back to her children.
"Sorry sir, miss." A nervous voice spoke. Ellen looked up to see the two boys and the little girl standing in the aisle beside her. The owner of the voice was the other boy, who had a face reminiscent of a young Paul McCartney.
"Do you mind if we join you?" He asked, sad brown eyes begging for comfort.
"Go ahead." Ellen responded. Gerald rolled his eyes as the blond sat beside him, while the McCartney doppelgänger took the seat next to Ellen. The girl sat on his knee and cuddled into him, burying her face in his shirt.
"And who might you be?" Gerald asked with a friendly smile. Ellen wondered how he could act so calm, while her own mind was in turmoil.
"Shaun's the name, romance is the game." The blond winked at Ellen, who curled her lip in distaste.
"I'm Kyle, and this is my little sister, Lisa." The other boy introduced. Much more tolerable than the yellow haired Ron Jeremy across the table, in Ellen's opinion.
"So. Does anyone have any idea what's going on?" Kyle asked meekly, rubbing his sister's back to quell her terror.
"Haven't the foggiest." Gerald hummed, staring out of the window and into the black abyss that surrounded them.
"Wh-"
The intercom interrupted Shaun with the regular announcement chime.
Shaun made a sound similar to a rat being crushed underfoot.
"Enjoy a cold beverage on your journey!"
The screech of mic feedback was the cue for the refreshment trolley to trundle in. Instead of being piled high with snacks and paper cups, there were six plastic cups, half filled with different coloured liquids.
"Do we take one?" Molly asked.
"I'm assuming so." Kyle said softly, hugging his sister tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder.
"Why should we drink something when we don't know what it is?" Ellen narrowed her eyes at the bright colours in the cups.
"Fair point." Gerald mumbled.
Shaun grabbed the green drink and tipped it into his mouth without hesitation.
"Dude! What the hell?!" Kyle yelped.
"Well we're not gonna get anywhere just sittin' around." Shaun shrugged.
Molly was the next person to take a cup, but she didn't drink it. The others were slow to follow.
"Who's the last cup for?" Molly asked, pointing at the pink beverage.
"My best guess would be Lisa." Gerald theorised.
Lisa took her time, but eventually she showed her face. She looked like a small angel, in her pale pink sundress with matching rosy cheeks.
Kyle passed her the final cup. As soon as he placed it on the table in front of her, Shaun grunted loudly. A choked cry caught in his throat before he shrieked. Gerald jumped back in shock, while Kyle pitched forward, moving Lisa out of the way. Molly recoiled sharply, while Ellen was frozen, too startled to move.
Within seconds, Shaun was still. He stayed unmoving, eyes unblinking.
"N-No..." Kyle breathed.
"He's not...?" Molly squeaked.
"Dead." Gerald said, his voice almost a whisper. Ellen's eyes were wide and yet she said nothing.
"Get me out of here!" Molly yelled, grabbing her children and clamouring to escape her seat. Kyle was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, while Lisa had reverted back to weeping.
"There's no way I'm touching that." Ellen shook her head.
With shaking hands, Kyle picked up his cup and downed it, like an alcoholic taking his last shot. Lisa wailed and slapped his hands but she was too late to stop him. Upon realising this, she took her own and drank before clutching him tightly.
"Here's to us." Gerald began a toast, holding his cup out to Ellen and expecting her to join him. With all hope gone, she did just that.
"Damn it all to hell!" Molly roared, tears streaming down her cheeks. She took hers and threw it back.
They waited.
And waited.
Minutes passed and nothing happened.
"What the- What the fuck just happened?" Kyle's voice cracked. Gerald was about to correct him for his use of profanity, but deemed it appropriate due to the situation.
Nobody had anything to say. The bone-chilling silence was all they had left to stew in.