Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Haunted Train Ride #coffinhop


When you arrive at the Black Cat, scurry past an odd looking family and nearly trip over a couple of kids decked out for trick-or-treat. Afraid you've missed the train, you hurry up to the counter and find it......
...empty

You order a Red Bull and the cook looks at you like you've landed in a UFO.
 
"Well, what do you have?" you ask.
 
"Everything floats. That's our specialty,"  the cook grins wide and shows a jagged set of once-pearly whites.
 
"Then rootbeer. A rootbeer float." It's been a long time since you've had one, but what the heck. This is going to be an adventure.
 
A tall frothy glass lands on the countertop about the time an attractive woman plants herself on the seat next to yours. "I'm Regan. Hanover is...."
 
"I'm Hanover Fist," a man on your other side whips out his hand. "I see you've already got yourself a drink. I, for one, could use something a little stronger." He pulls out a silver flask. "Would you care for some?"

"What is it?" you ask.
 
"Medicine," Regan pipes in. "It's the only type of spirits Hanover really likes. But I we'll see plenty others." She takes the flask from Hanover and takes a swig.
 
A train's whistle sounds.
 
"We'd better get going." Hanover tucks the flask inside his suitcoat.
 
"What do I owe you?" You ask the cook.
 

You drink down enough of the float fast enough to get brain freeze. "It's on the house," he grins and you swear you can see a knife's edge glint in his eye. But maybe it's just the brain freeze.
 
You walk between Regan and Hanover, past the caboose, thinking it looks normal enough. I mean, it is Halloween after all...so a bit of goop on the wheels and a pumpkin on the roof are normal, right?

The man on the bench in front of the ticket booth looks a little thin, but Regan assures you that's the "in" look in these parts. "I only wish I could lose my pooch," she says and then looks down at her purse, mortified. "I didn't mean that Dolche!" You hear a little yap. Regan opens her large handbag and out pops a Yorkie head.

"Ssshhh, little one," Regan croons. "You know they don't let dogs on the train. You have to just sit quiet until we get there."
 
The dog ducks her head back into the handbag.
 
You buy your tickets and move back down the train, past the conductor who also looks like he's very fashion conscious. Hanover tips the man who takes your baggage. Regan giggles.

"What's so funny?" Hanover asks.

"Never mind," Regan winks at you. "You won't think it's funny. You never do."
"Whatever," Hanover rolls his eyes.
 
"All aboard!" the conductor calls.  You hurry alongside Regan and Hanover, trying not to notice the strange black tendrils emanating from the train.
 
 
...to be continued.
 
But while you're waiting, make sure to check out the other coffin hoppers. K.F. Kirwin has some haunting ghost stories and there are many more authors listed on the Coffin Hop home page.
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 


2 comments:

  1. In my experience strange black tendrils are never a good sign; great post.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think I should have stayed back at the Black Cat... yikes!

    ReplyDelete