Short Stories/Song Lyrics

102 - The Devil's Train

My grand-pops was a man of respect, had to sweat just to cash checks working from sunrise to set. Every day he'd get challenged no trades or talents. He barely scraped by but he found faith to balance the straight line and pace, feeling worn and gray. He was poor with four seeds and one more on the way. It was hard days indeed, all work and no play. He made sure things on the surface were okay, but something disturbing within his mind was lurking. A slight twilight breeze would ease in through the curtains at night. It's like the sermon of a twisted apparition was urging him to listen to the train in the distance. At first it wasn't intense, just one little instance. Sure it didn't occur so he turned to resist it as if it wasn't much more than just a figment of his imagination. But for days it was persistent and it went, "ƑօӀӀօա ʍҽ. ƑօӀӀօա ʍҽ. ƑօӀӀօա ʍҽ. ƑօӀӀօա ʍҽ." and it got louder. "ƑօӀӀօա ʍҽ. ƑօӀӀօա ʍҽ. į հąѵҽ ʂօʍҽէհìղց էօ ʂհօա վօմ."
               With time people noticed he was actin' berserk. Granny got a call saying he was absent from work. That was a first. She ran to the pastor at church to ask him what was up with this disastrous curse. But bad went to worse. He came back three days after with no money in his wallet and his shirt on backwards. He was stumbling, walked awkward, and he called out for his daughter. Right before he split the last lesson he taught her was this; "If you ever have a son, let him know that his granddad loved him, but by the time that he's grown be sure this seed is sown deep down into his dome. Don't ever, ever walk to the train tracks alone." With that, he backed up, reached out for his jacket, told her not to act up, and cracked up laughing. After all that happened, he left, never to be seen. Fifteen years later is when my mother had me. Her dad lived a life people can't understand. He went from a family man to rambling man, A gambling man that burned both ends of the candle. He folded his hand in, it was too hot to handle.
           ʂıɬɬıŋɠ ơŋ ɬɧɛ ɬཞąƈƙʂ ῳąıɬıŋɠ ʄơཞ ɬɧɛ ŋıɠɧɬ ɬཞąıŋ ąŋɖ Ɩơơƙıŋɠ ɖơῳŋ ɬɧɛ ཞơąɖ. ɧɛ ąıŋ'ɬ ŋɛ۷ɛཞ ɠơŋŋą ɠơ ცąƈƙ. Ɩıʂɬɛŋ ʄơཞ ɬɧɛ ῳɧıʂɬƖɛ ɬɧཞơųɠɧ ɬɧɛ ῳıŋɖ ąŋɖ ཞąıŋɖཞơ℘. ῳɧơ'ʂ ɠơŋŋą ཞıɖɛ ɬɧɛ ɖɛ۷ıƖ'ʂ ɬཞąıŋ ɬơŋıɠɧɬ? When I was a tot, my mom dropped fables and stories to warn me of the dangers that were layin' before me. To keep it interesting, she would hide the lesson, to guide my direction, provide the right message. In time, I developed a sense of her embellishment since I was rebellious against what she was telling me. When I was a teen, I pretended that my demons were friends I defended their place and that was the case. There was slurred speech dripping off of my face. The world creeped as I slipped to the awfulest place you could imagine. It's not the average things you see on acid: my granddad bloody, hovering on a speaker cabinet and laughing in a raspy tone. He was covered in maggots that snacked on his mass to the bone. I couldn't grasp it so I did a double dismount off of the couch, flipped out, broke the closest window I found, then I dipped out. Suddenly, I discovered little voices mumbling up in my head, It had me wondering 'what was it my mother said back when I was younger?' It had my brain wracked as I stumbled off in the night towards the train tracks.
         ʂıɬɬıŋɠ ơŋ ɬɧɛ ɬཞąƈƙʂ ῳąıɬıŋɠ ʄơཞ ɬɧɛ ŋıɠɧɬ ɬཞąıŋ ąŋɖ Ɩơơƙıŋɠ ɖơῳŋ ɬɧɛ ཞơąɖ. ɧɛ ąıŋ'ɬ ŋɛ۷ɛཞ ɠơŋŋą ɠơ ცąƈƙ. Ɩıʂɬɛŋ ʄơཞ ɬɧɛ ῳɧıʂɬƖɛ ɬɧཞơųɠɧ ɬɧɛ ῳıŋɖ ąŋɖ ཞąıŋɖཞơ℘. ῳɧơ'ʂ ɠơŋŋą ཞıɖɛ ɬɧɛ ɖɛ۷ıƖ'ʂ ɬཞąıŋ ɬơŋıɠɧɬ? So there I was, stalking through the dark with a buzz. I figured I should walk. That'll ease me off of these drugs. It's like a shark: I had to keep moving; it's that or be ruined. If I sat still, I was doomed. That wasn't doing so I marched through the park, slow and gone like Donny Darko. The sparkle of the starlight glowed like charcoal. Despite my demeanor, the night seemed more serene than a morphine fiend in a morgue. It seemed like I'd lost it. That was when my grandpops' carcass emerged from the dark, gurgling his words of carnage, but he couldn't talk. It was something about the birth of sadness. I scurried off. I was on the verge of madness! I raced, fast-paced, and the landscape was strange, like a plane parallel to this one but rearranged. I came to a slope that was steep and begging for sleep as I climbed up, taking my focus off of the creeps. Within the foggy distance, I saw a silhouette that got bigger as I stepped. The train tracks were wet. I saw a shiny grin from afar like it was happy. This is what he said as he started to walk past me:

It's a nice night for a walk. Would you mind if I join you?
Do what you wanna do...
Well that's great 'cause I'm going to and, not to annoy you, but see I really have to ask what a young dude like you's doin' out by the tracks? Ӌօմ աąìէìղց օղ էհҽ էɾąìղ~?
Nah man. Lemme explain...
Alright.
I'm mindin' my business so maybe you should do the same. I've just been a witness to something sick and sadistic--so twistedly disgusting. You should feel real lucky you missed it.
Easy with your tongue, son, and try to listen carefully. What you've seen is scary but nothing when compared to me. I can show you things to paint all of your dreams haunted. į çąղ ʍąҟҽ վօմ ʂçɾҽąʍ ìƒ į աąղէҽժ. Or I could be the bee in your bonnet, your best friend forever, two peas in a pod flocking like birds of a feather. You'll never have a need to beg, work, or steal. If all of this sounds worth it then Ӏҽէ'ʂ ʍąҟҽ ą ժҽąӀ! All you want in life for էհҽ քɾìçҽ օƒ վօմɾ ʂօմӀ: all the money that you want, all the power you can hold. į'ӀӀ քմէ վօմ ìղ çօղէɾօӀ, but only if you're down to roll down these train tracks tonight~
But where are we gonna go?

ʂıɬɬıŋɠ ơŋ ɬɧɛ ɬཞąƈƙʂ ῳąıɬıŋɠ ʄơཞ ɬɧɛ ŋıɠɧɬ ɬཞąıŋ ąŋɖ Ɩơơƙıŋɠ ɖơῳŋ ɬɧɛ ཞơąɖ. ɧɛ ąıŋ'ɬ ŋɛ۷ɛཞ ɠơŋŋą ɠơ ცąƈƙ. Ɩıʂɬɛŋ ʄơཞ ɬɧɛ ῳɧıʂɬƖɛ ɬɧཞơųɠɧ ɬɧɛ ῳıŋɖ ąŋɖ ཞąıŋɖཞơ℘. ῳɧơ'ʂ ɠơŋŋą ཞıɖɛ ɬɧɛ ɖɛ۷ıƖ'ʂ ɬཞąıŋ ɬơŋıɠɧɬ?

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