The Next Stop Will Be Hell

(A Short Story)

James’s Word

May 16, 2020

George spat out the crimson haemoglobin from his mouth that had seeped in from his wounds that he had incurred from the crash. His nose was smashed and blood rolled down his lip splashing into a puddle, newly formed. His blood. Looking over the ransacked cabin he saw Ruby, his childhood sweetheart and the only one he could ever love, lying there. She was covered in blood. It couldn’t be George’s blood; he was on the side of the cabin but she lay still. George panicked and staggered to his feet. Weaving through chairs and squeezing through metal poles, his six-foot body was tested. He winced in pain but it had to be done. He had to get to Ruby.

He reached her and saw the implications of the crash. She had been destroyed. Her face was smashed and her arm hung up against her head. She still looked beautiful to George. Ruby’s hair was still a beautiful blonde but with a tinge of crimson. Blood. George pushed it behind her ear and, with his sliced hand, held her and remembered all his memories with her. His hands caressed her body throughout the night, dates and marriage. He held her tightly as if withdrawn to the fact he would have to let her go. He kissed her passionately hoping the films were right and that she would wake up. Nothing. He started kissing her hand gently, finally giving up his false sense of hope. She was gone. All his memories flashed passed in an instance and a tear began to fall. The tear rolled from his face onto her smooth, now blue, always pink lips. Something happened.

The trained jerked as if it was going to move and then an announcer, in a soft luring tone started

“The next stop will be hell.”

What? What was happening? This was surely a dream, George told himself in disbelief. And then another jerk. The train started to move forward and George was trapped. Trapped inside a possessed train with his now-dead lover.

The train, jolting backwards, sped up over each piece of track, scaring George – he never was a person who liked fast rides. The cabin weaved and turned around the corners, that now felt sharp, not smooth, throwing George around the cabin like a rag doll- whoever this was they didn’t just want to kill one person. The train suddenly stopped. Stopped in a tunnel and the windows flung open, hitting the sides of the dark abyss. The voice began “Welcome to the end of your life” it laughed and then echoed away. Creatures, unlike no other – red bulging teeth and eyes like table tennis balls gleamed at George. It was too late. 

He went over to his lover and kissed her lips, passionately yet delicately. “Everything will be ok” he reassured her and then everything stopped. It stopped suddenly and the creatures paused. “It’s not that easy” the voice fired. The monsters restarted, faster this time as if a remote was fast-forwarding time. 

George started to pray and was ready to die but something hit him- he would be going to hell, that’s what the voice said. He grabbed the monster, who bit his arm ravenously and threw it. It splatted on the floor – red goo splooshed across the floor and now he knew he was going to survive.

“Is that all you’ve got?” The creatures grew, stronger, bigger and they sped up. George tried but couldn’t stop them. He was even more bloodied but had to protect Ruby. Her body must go unharmed and he looked at her and smiled. This was going to be alright. Tears began to form but nothing came out as a creature jumped and severed his head, ready for the family to feast on. 

Was that hell? He woke up, feeling his neck, with Ruby lying on his chest. She felt his heart and looked at him. “Why is your heart racing?”

“We’re in hell!” he screamed. 

“No, we’re not, you’re in my bed – it must’ve been a dream.”

George sighed in relief and then looked out the window. 

A man was calling him with his finger and stared into his soul. “Welcome to hell,” he mouthed.

Short Story Sanctuary


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