April 16 1984
Pamela waited. She watched a movie and waited. She put her headphones in and waited. She sat down on a rusty old bench and waited. She waited for the train that was coming to take her away from her life. The train that she would forever remember.
In the dark of a spring night the New York train station was almost deserted, but not quite. An old man sat against one of the crumbling pillars, cigarette in hand. A young woman hurriedly pushed her baby stroller up the ramp. And the lovely background sounds of scurrying mice and rats echoed through the tunnels.
Pamela was about to take on a new life. She was leaving the streets of New York where she had lived a wealthy life and instead was to go out into the countryside, to work at a criminal camp. Her life had been a constant downwards spiral from the moment she was kicked out of the house by her abusive father and banished from her stuck-up mothers’ mind.
In the dead of the night the old trundling train that was incoming broke into everyone’s thoughts. Would this be the last train Pamela ever took? She stood up, her face completely devoid of any emotion and walked, stiff as a robot, to the train doors that were slowly creaking open.
Inside the one lone carriage sat just 2 strangers, as far apart from each other as could be. One was heavily bandaged, covered from her neck downwards in a variety of plasters, wrappings and bandages. The other was shivering, sitting on the very edge of the cold, hard stool in simply a pyjama singlet, a pair of chewed up shorts and a single sock.
Pamela sat in the very middle of the carriage and simply tuned out. She had no idea, and could not tell the difference between whether she was sleeping or awake. No knowledge of time entered her world either. She was simply there.
A scream that ripped through the tunnel was accompanied by a sudden, uncomfortable halt of the train, throwing the passengers forward. Pamela eyes opened, her eyes an eerie bloodshot red. Her two accompanying passengers heard her utter unforgettable words: “She has returned and we are too late,” before slumping back into her chair, her mouth drooling with blood.
April 16 1985
Today was Pamela’s funeral. Her family had not bothered turning up, the fact they had a daughter long forgotten. However, the train company was obliged to give their once customer a burial. Two men dressed in black, wearing pristine black gloves hoisted her coffin up above their heads, then lowered in down into the pre-dug hole. They grabbed piles of dirt and covered the spot, then rested a small handful of white flowers atop the burial site. One of the men reached into his back pocket and produced a crumpled newspaper extract. It read as follows:
Ghost Sighting                                                                               April 19 1984
Please note this article is not suitable for the squeamish or soft-hearted of readers.
A tragedy took place on April 16, down underground while the majority of you were sleeping. A young woman by the name of Pamela was found unconscious and nonresponsive on the train 197634 heading outwards, bound for Entilop Village. Upon inspection it seems she had a heart failure and was unable to be rescued. The two other passengers aboard were deeply shocked and terrified but otherwise unharmed. These two witnesses report having heard a blood-curdling scream and then relayed Pamela’s last words. “She has returned and we are too late.”
The driver was also interviewed and reported having seen a young woman with hair that stuck up at a frighteningly straight angle with teeth black as mud and crooked as a witch. He also observed that she had been wearing a white nightgown and says she, “seemed to appear out of nowhere.” He reports he slammed the brake immediately to avoid crashing into her, then hearing her scream so high pitched that the glass of his passenger window cracked. We grieve for Pamela and her family and resolve to get to the very bottom of this case.