The Realm I Once Didn't Know
As the iron serpent slithered around the curve of the canyon's spine, I glimpsed its head, spewing a plume of ashen smoke into the ether. Yet, something was amiss. The smoke, like a spectral apparition, was being drawn towards the serpent's path. Then, in a moment that defied reality, the engine levitated from the tracks, somersaulted, and began its descent into the canyon's gaping maw.
I found myself in the tail of the serpent, the last of five passenger cars, trailing behind a dozen cargo carriers. I bore witness to the spectacle, as if time itself had been ensnared in a dream, each car obediently following its predecessor into oblivion.
The initial tremor was subtle, a mere shiver running through the serpent's metallic skin. Moments later, the cars ahead vanished, leaving me in the solitary company of the last passenger car and the caboose. We glided along the skeletal trestle, the mouth of a tunnel looming in our path.
A sense of dread had already taken root within me. Having journeyed this route countless times, I knew what lay beyond the tunnel - a spiraling descent down the mountain, likely to gain momentum in the absence of the engine's restraining force.
The others aboard the train had likely met their end swiftly, but my fate was to endure a torturous anticipation as the passenger car and caboose gathered speed, destined to be flung off the tracks into an unknown abyss.
Yet, that anticipated catastrophe never materialized, or at least, I have no memory of it. Instead, as the cars accelerated, the world was abruptly shrouded in a dense fog. When it lifted, I found myself aboard an aircraft, three of its four engines ablaze, the screams of its passengers piercing the air. I was too shell-shocked to react.
The aircraft plungedinto the ocean, but once again, I was whisked away. This time, I found myself within the confines of a submarine, a lone survivor in a post-apocalyptic world.
Emerging from the abyss, the submarine surfaced, docking with an eerie autonomy. I managed to decipher the mechanism of the hatch, stepping out into the unknown. As I distanced myself, the sub belched a fiery plume, a farewell salute, before sinking back into the depths, leaving no trace of its existence.
I found myself in a port, untouched by time or disaster, yet devoid of life. The absence of seagulls, those ubiquitous denizens of the sea, was unsettling. I ventured forth, the distant silhouette of skyscrapers beckoning me towards an intact city, a ghost town shrouded in silence.
A parking lot materialized, rows of vehicles standing like silent sentinels. I approached one, its door yielding to my touch. As I settled in, a disembodied voice echoed, "Destination?" I responded, my voice tinged with desperation, "I am lost, adrift in time and space. Can you guide me?"
The vehicle remained silent, contemplating my plea. Then, with a mind of its own, it ascended, soaring towards the city. As we descended onto a street, the futuristic metropolis morphed into a narrow Victorian alleyway. A man emerged from the shadows, a sinister grin on his face, a gleaming knife in his hand.
Instinct took over, and I fled, seeking refuge in a carriage. To my surprise, two familiar figures sat across from me. I recounted my tale, expecting the man in the deerstalker hat to take interest. But he merely replied, "As intriguing as your predicament is, sir, I have my own mysteries to unravel." With that, they vanished, leaving me alone and bewildered.
The carriage trundled on, indifferent to my confusion. As the sun rose, painting the sky with huesof hope, the carriage halted, the door swung open, inviting me to step into the unknown.
Hesitation gripped me as I sat in the carriage, the unknown looming ominously. Yet, inertia seemed a more terrifying prospect. Bracing myself for the inevitable shift in reality, I stepped out, and the world morphed around me. Suddenly, I was standing in a queue, a starship towering above, the lunar landscape stretching into the horizon. Awe and terror washed over me in equal measures.
Time warped, catapulting us into the cosmos at a speed that defied the laws of physics. The stars of Alpha Centauri loomed closer, their celestial glow a beacon in the infinite darkness.
Moments later, a mechanical voice echoed, "We are now landing at Colony Casino on Proxima. Welcome to the vacation of a lifetime." The announcement hung in the air, a promise of an adventure laced with an undercurrent of dread.
A familiar tune began to play, its notes weaving through the silence. Glancing down, I found myself clad in a pristine white suit, a .32 Walters PPK nestled under my arm. The game, it seemed, was about to begin.
I went to the roulette wheel and placed a bet. The wheel began to spin and I got dizzy and there I was back on the train going over a trestle watching the engine disappear into a tunnel.
Then everything went dark until the lights flickered on?
Suddenly, I had a bald head and a neatly waxed mustache. The transformation was as abrupt as it was inexplicable. As I ran my hand over my newly polished dome, a voice pierced the silence, "Murder on the Train!"
The voice belonged to a woman, her face as pale as the moonlight filtering through the carriage windows. She pointed a trembling finger towards the other end of the carriage, where aman lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading around him.
The passengers erupted into chaos, their screams echoing off the carriage walls. Yet, amidst the pandemonium, I felt an odd sense of calm. Perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation, or maybe it was the mustache lending me an air of sophistication. Either way, I found myself drawn towards the lifeless body.
As I knelt beside the man, I noticed a peculiar object clutched in his hand - a golden pocket watch, its hands frozen at the stroke of midnight. The sight of the watch triggered a wave of d�j� vu, but before I could delve into it, the train lurched violently, plunging us into darkness.
When the lights flickered back on, the body was gone, replaced by a pile of sand. The passengers stared in disbelief, their screams now replaced by stunned silence. The woman who had first cried murder was now sobbing uncontrollably, her eyes wide with terror.
I picked up a handful of the sand, letting it slip through my fingers. It was coarse and cold, unlike any sand I had ever felt. As the last grains fell, a chilling laughter echoed through the carriage, sending shivers down my spine.
The laughter belonged to a shadowy figure standing at the far end of the carriage. It was the man from the alleyway, the sinister grin still plastered on his face. He held up the golden pocket watch, its hands now moving backwards.
"Welcome to the ride of your life," he said, his voice echoing through the carriage. "Or should I say, death?"
As his laughter filled the carriage, the train plunged into a tunnel, enveloping us in darkness once more. When the lights came back on, I was back in the submarine, the echoes of the man's laughter still ringingin my ears.
The journey had come full circle, each twist and turn more absurd than the last. Yet, as I looked out into the abyss, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dark amusement. After all, who could say they had witnessed a murder on a time-traveling train, only to end up in a submarine in a post-apocalyptic world?
As the submarine began its descent, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. But one thing was certain - the realm I once knew was nothing more than a distant memory. Now, I was adrift in a sea of chaos, a passenger on a journey that defied the very laws of reality. And strangely enough, I wouldn't have it any other way.
As the iron serpent slithered around the curve of the canyon's spine, I glimpsed its head, spewing a plume of ashen smoke into the ether. Yet, something was amiss. The smoke, like a spectral apparition, was being drawn towards the serpent's path. Then, in a moment that defied reality, the engine levitated from the tracks, somersaulted, and began its descent into the canyon's gaping maw.
I found myself in the tail of the serpent, the last of five passenger cars, trailing behind a dozen cargo carriers. I bore witness to the spectacle, as if time itself had been ensnared in a dream, each car obediently following its predecessor into oblivion.
The initial tremor was subtle, a mere shiver running through the serpent's metallic skin. Moments later, the cars ahead vanished, leaving me in the solitary company of the last passenger car and the caboose. We glided along the skeletal trestle, the mouth of a tunnel looming in our path.
A sense of dread had already taken root within me. Having journeyed this route countless times, I knew what lay beyond the tunnel - a spiraling descent down the mountain, likely to gain momentum in the absence of the engine's restraining force.
The others aboard the train had likely met their end swiftly, but my fate was to endure a torturous anticipation as the passenger car and caboose gathered speed, destined to be flung off the tracks into an unknown abyss.
Yet, that anticipated catastrophe never materialized, or at least, I have no memory of it. Instead, as the cars accelerated, the world was abruptly shrouded in a dense fog. When it lifted, I found myself aboard an aircraft, three of its four engines ablaze, the screams of its passengers piercing the air. I was too shell-shocked to react.
The aircraft plungedinto the ocean, but once again, I was whisked away. This time, I found myself within the confines of a submarine, a lone survivor in a post-apocalyptic world.
Emerging from the abyss, the submarine surfaced, docking with an eerie autonomy. I managed to decipher the mechanism of the hatch, stepping out into the unknown. As I distanced myself, the sub belched a fiery plume, a farewell salute, before sinking back into the depths, leaving no trace of its existence.
I found myself in a port, untouched by time or disaster, yet devoid of life. The absence of seagulls, those ubiquitous denizens of the sea, was unsettling. I ventured forth, the distant silhouette of skyscrapers beckoning me towards an intact city, a ghost town shrouded in silence.
A parking lot materialized, rows of vehicles standing like silent sentinels. I approached one, its door yielding to my touch. As I settled in, a disembodied voice echoed, "Destination?" I responded, my voice tinged with desperation, "I am lost, adrift in time and space. Can you guide me?"
The vehicle remained silent, contemplating my plea. Then, with a mind of its own, it ascended, soaring towards the city. As we descended onto a street, the futuristic metropolis morphed into a narrow Victorian alleyway. A man emerged from the shadows, a sinister grin on his face, a gleaming knife in his hand.
Instinct took over, and I fled, seeking refuge in a carriage. To my surprise, two familiar figures sat across from me. I recounted my tale, expecting the man in the deerstalker hat to take interest. But he merely replied, "As intriguing as your predicament is, sir, I have my own mysteries to unravel." With that, they vanished, leaving me alone and bewildered.
The carriage trundled on, indifferent to my confusion. As the sun rose, painting the sky with huesof hope, the carriage halted, the door swung open, inviting me to step into the unknown.
Hesitation gripped me as I sat in the carriage, the unknown looming ominously. Yet, inertia seemed a more terrifying prospect. Bracing myself for the inevitable shift in reality, I stepped out, and the world morphed around me. Suddenly, I was standing in a queue, a starship towering above, the lunar landscape stretching into the horizon. Awe and terror washed over me in equal measures.
Time warped, catapulting us into the cosmos at a speed that defied the laws of physics. The stars of Alpha Centauri loomed closer, their celestial glow a beacon in the infinite darkness.
Moments later, a mechanical voice echoed, "We are now landing at Colony Casino on Proxima. Welcome to the vacation of a lifetime." The announcement hung in the air, a promise of an adventure laced with an undercurrent of dread.
A familiar tune began to play, its notes weaving through the silence. Glancing down, I found myself clad in a pristine white suit, a .32 Walters PPK nestled under my arm. The game, it seemed, was about to begin.
I went to the roulette wheel and placed a bet. The wheel began to spin and I got dizzy and there I was back on the train going over a trestle watching the engine disappear into a tunnel.
Then everything went dark until the lights flickered on?
Suddenly, I had a bald head and a neatly waxed mustache. The transformation was as abrupt as it was inexplicable. As I ran my hand over my newly polished dome, a voice pierced the silence, "Murder on the Train!"
The voice belonged to a woman, her face as pale as the moonlight filtering through the carriage windows. She pointed a trembling finger towards the other end of the carriage, where aman lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading around him.
The passengers erupted into chaos, their screams echoing off the carriage walls. Yet, amidst the pandemonium, I felt an odd sense of calm. Perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation, or maybe it was the mustache lending me an air of sophistication. Either way, I found myself drawn towards the lifeless body.
As I knelt beside the man, I noticed a peculiar object clutched in his hand - a golden pocket watch, its hands frozen at the stroke of midnight. The sight of the watch triggered a wave of d�j� vu, but before I could delve into it, the train lurched violently, plunging us into darkness.
When the lights flickered back on, the body was gone, replaced by a pile of sand. The passengers stared in disbelief, their screams now replaced by stunned silence. The woman who had first cried murder was now sobbing uncontrollably, her eyes wide with terror.
I picked up a handful of the sand, letting it slip through my fingers. It was coarse and cold, unlike any sand I had ever felt. As the last grains fell, a chilling laughter echoed through the carriage, sending shivers down my spine.
The laughter belonged to a shadowy figure standing at the far end of the carriage. It was the man from the alleyway, the sinister grin still plastered on his face. He held up the golden pocket watch, its hands now moving backwards.
"Welcome to the ride of your life," he said, his voice echoing through the carriage. "Or should I say, death?"
As his laughter filled the carriage, the train plunged into a tunnel, enveloping us in darkness once more. When the lights came back on, I was back in the submarine, the echoes of the man's laughter still ringingin my ears.
The journey had come full circle, each twist and turn more absurd than the last. Yet, as I looked out into the abyss, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dark amusement. After all, who could say they had witnessed a murder on a time-traveling train, only to end up in a submarine in a post-apocalyptic world?
As the submarine began its descent, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. But one thing was certain - the realm I once knew was nothing more than a distant memory. Now, I was adrift in a sea of chaos, a passenger on a journey that defied the very laws of reality. And strangely enough, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Support Donald Harry Roberts
