"Masters of Horror: The Dead Don't Sleep"
Chapter One: Human Genocide (Here Begins the Haunting)
Throughout the history of Sodor, there had been many instances of ghosts and paranormal events. Engines and citizens alike have told tales of frightening encounters with ghosts and demons. Most of them have often been debunked as being nothing more than childish imaginations and sleep deprived induced paranoia. They have often been explained away with rational explanations, which sometimes brought the engines comfort. However, there had been instances where no simple rational explanation could explain away the paranormal. One instance of a haunting on Sodor took place in an abandoned shed somewhere near the small town of Knapford. Many years ago, an engine was destroyed in that particular shed when its driver and fireman deliberately left its systems wide open, effectively creating extremely high pressure and causing it to explode. The shed remained abandoned for years until two engines decided that it would be the ideal location for a Bed and Breakfast for engines. Little did they realize that their "shed made of dreams" was really made of nightmares. A malevolent entity stalked the berths of this shed, leaving many of its patrons frightened out of their funnels. The haunting escalated to the point when the entity almost killed a valued member of the Island. After the "dark body" caused great suffering to those around it, the owners of the Bed and Breakfast were left with no choice but to exorcise the demon entity from their shed. The plan was successful, but it came with a cost. The innocence of the Island was shattered and one of the owners of the B&B was left traumatized by the incident. As for the unlucky engine that almost died from his attack with the spirit, he was repaired and had recently returned to work on his branch line, still as boastful about his heritage as ever. It was believed that the entity was sent to the other side, never to haunt the shores of Sodor again. But there are those that believe the demon engine would reveal itself again, with its sights set on one thing – revenge.
The Smelters Yard on the Other Railway, otherwise known as the "Engine Graveyard". It is here that engines come to die. Workmen take torches to these relics of a long forgotten age. They systematically break them up into scrap, piece by piece. Slowly, the engines die painfully as they are striped of their lives and then melted down in the monster vats of molten steel. Their melted remains are then reborn into almost anything: steel beams, car bodies, piping and yes, new parts for engines. It is said that even though their physical bodies may be long gone, their spirits still linger in between the realm of the living and the land of the dead. By all accounts, these spirits are often benign and are only looking for a way home. Other times, the spirits of these long dead engines crave for something more. Deep inside the hellfire and dancing sparks of the Smelters Yard, workmen and the Iron twins work feverishly to get their daily quota of scrap completed. They are unaware that somewhere in this labyrinth of molten steel vats, monstrous ceiling cranes and towering structures, there is an entity lurking somewhere in the shadows. Among the piles of jagged metal and twisted steel, something is being reborn. Something dark. Something mysterious. Something evil.
One cold night, Molly the yellow Claud Hamilton was pulling her last train for the evening. She was to take a shipment of Chevrolet Mopar crate motors from Brendam Docks to Knapford station. The crate motors were for a high end Custom Car shop that had recently opened its doors to the public. Molly didn't mind working this late at night, she was just happy to feel needed. Yet, all throughout the trip, Molly sensed she was being watched. She felt the cold, invisible stares of someone or something lurking in the shadows. This made her anxious and she wanted to get her job done faster. Her crew tried to calm her down. "Steady on, old girl." Comforted her driver. "We're almost home, my dear. We should be passing Crosby soon."
"I should hope so." Molly sniffed. "Frankly, this is giving me the creeps. It's like listening to Karen's death rock mix-tapes." Molly's driver laughed. Soon enough, Molly cleared the signal box at Crosby and thundered by BoCo's late night express who was picking up extra passengers at the station. He gave the yellow engine a friendly honk as she rocketed by with lightning speed. "Not long now, hun." Said Molly's driver with confidence. Molly felt her confidence grow too. It was then that the night took a bizarre turn. Up ahead, a thick blanket of fog suddenly enveloped the track. As Molly thundered into the miasma, the world around her became darker and darker. Visibility fell to nothing; the entire landscape seemed to be swallowed up by the vicious fog. Molly's crew was perplexed. They had never seen fog like this before. Not in their many years of faithful service to Sir Topham Hatt's railway. Sure, they had encountered thick fog before, but this was different. The fog was unlike anything they had ever seen in their experience. The fog was unnatural. "Blimey, Ray." Molly's driver, Dylan, said looking into the mist bewildered. "Look at this mess. Have you seen anything like it?" he asked Ray the fireman. His face showed genuine fear and disbelief.
"Never have, mate." Ray answered; he was just as perplexed as his colleague. "What the fuck is going on? Is there a fire somewhere?" he wondered. Molly felt the fear creeping back into her systems. All around her was pitch black. Her powerful headlamp was useless against the thickening fog. Molly shivered and bit her bottom lip. Up ahead, a strange red light appeared. It didn't appear to be moving with her, the light appeared to be static. "I can see something." Molly cried, squinting into through the mysterious black fog. Her driver and fireman peered around the cab. They could see the light ahead as well. "What is it?" Ray the fireman wondered.
"Dunno, mate." Dylan the driver answered. Molly surged forward into the impossible black fog. Her cylinders shivered as the strange red light grew in intensity and ferocity. The air suddenly felt warmer. A very bizarre turnaround from the cold, winter-like conditions of the day. A faint whistle was heard in the distance. Molly whistled in response, hoping whoever was in front of her would answer. But then, the already bizarre night took a frightening turn. Molly's face dropped in terror as something dark emerged from the black fog. Her eyes widened with horror as her fear enveloped her. Molly's crew was also terrified beyond imagination. They couldn't believe their eyes. Molly let out a terrified scream. Then, everything went quiet. The silence was deafening. The air grew still and the strange fog started to dissipate, just as mysteriously as it rolled in.
BoCo was gliding merrily across the countryside with his express. He was given the "All Clear" at Crosby after Molly steamed by. BoCo was having a splendid time, humming a little ditty as he rumbled through the night. Then, up ahead, his driver noticed something. "What the fuck?" he wondered and gently applied the brakes. BoCo felt that he was slowing down and was annoyed, he was almost livid. "What now?" he muttered angrily. BoCo was having such a splendid run. What could possibly be ruining his wonderful late night run? BoCo would soon find out. As he came to a stop, BoCo's driver stepped out of the cab with his powerful torch. BoCo could see that something was wrong. "David, what's going on?" he asked his driver.
"Up ahead. Can't you see it?" David, his driver, answered pointing into the distance. BoCo looked up and he could see a brakevan, its red tail lamp glowing brightly. Attached to the brakevan was a long line of trucks. BoCo recognized the trucks as the ones that Molly was pulling before. "What in the name of bloody hell?" BoCo quivered. "Those are Molly's trucks!" he added. He could also see that there was no sign of Molly anywhere. It seemed that the cheerful yellow engine had mysteriously disappeared.
"I'd better go in for a closer look." Said David the driver. "Just sit tight and I'll be back in a sec." he cautioned his engine. Flicking on his torch, David the driver wandered cautiously down the line towards the abandoned train. BoCo watched his driver walk down the line as his big, powerful diesel-electric engine purred quietly. David ventured up to the brakevan, hopping on board for a closer look. "Hello?" he called. "Is anyone home?" David shined his torch around the brakevan's interior but there was no one inside. Everything appeared to be in order. Nothing was out of place. On the table lay a brakeman's torch. David flicked it on, it still functioned properly. Cups of half drunken cocoa also sat on the table, along with a log book and a pocket watch on a chain. David examined the watch, reading an inscription on the back. It read, "Keep those steamers running on time – Grandpa." David felt a cold chill down his spine. He recognized the watch. "It's Carlin's." he muttered.
Carlin was a new comer to the Island of Sodor railway community. He was just starting out as a brakeman and engineer on the North Western Railway network. His father, Jonathon, was a brakeman for many years and so was his grandfather, Terrence. Terrence had retired several years ago and had given Carlin his old watch as a way of welcoming him to the rail network. Carlin was a young man at only 27 years old and he was young at heart. He was still learning the tricks of the trade and had hoped to graduate to engine driver some day. Curiouser and curiouser, thought David as pocketed the watch. He couldn't let such a valuable thing be left for thieves to plunder. David then stepped out of the brakevan and walked along the down the abandoned train. BoCo's passengers were getting agitated. Some of them even stepped out of the coaches to speak with BoCo face to face. They wanted to know what was going on and why their train was delayed. The only answer BoCo could give to the irate passengers was simply, "Hell if I know." Meanwhile, David was carefully walked down the length of the trucks. He examined them with increased tension. The expressions on each of the trucks faces were undeniable. They were almost paralyzed with fear. As much as David tried to make contact with them, they were unresponsive to his calls. One truck was whimpering the Lord's Prayer with tears in its eyes. What had spooked the trucks so badly? It was then that David stepped in something on the railway sleepers. He shone his torch on his shoe and to his horror; it turned out to be blood. "Oh sweet Jesus." He cringed. David then shone his torch along the tracks and saw a trail of blood leading down the line. David followed the blood trail until it stopped at a large pool of blood under a patch of trees. "The blood stops right here." David huffed. "What the hell is going on?" he surveyed the landscape.
Suddenly, a drop of blood dripped onto David's shoulder. And then another. David's eyes widen as he lifted his torch skyward. To his absolute horror, displayed on an overhanging branch, were three mutilated bodies. They were severed into pieces and hung like ornaments from the branch. David jumped in terror. "Holy Mother of God!" he shrieked. He recognized one body as being that of Carlin. He let out a terrified yelp as he recognized the other victims as well. They were Dylan and Ray, Molly's crew. They had met the sickening fate that met Carlin. David started to gag at the sheer violence and brutality of these killings. He held his mouth and bolted from the bloody scene before pausing to vomit beside the tracks. David's mind was racing a mile a second as he collecting himself and bolted back to his train. BoCo and the passengers saw David bolting towards them. He didn't stop until he reached his engine, out of breath and white as a sheet. "David, what's wrong?" BoCo asked frantically.
"There's been a murder! Murder on the rails!" David started.
"A murder?" One startled passenger wondered.
"Yeah. Someone call the police. NOW!" David demanded. The passenger scrambled for her mobile and frantically dialed the police. The passengers were all shocked and talking at once. David, on the other hand, slumped against BoCo and sighed heavily. He started to quiver from the horror of it all. "The poor guy just started working here." He said, wiping away a tear.
"Who just started working here?" BoCo asked.
"Carlin." David explained. "It's him and two other guys up there. Dead. All dead." BoCo's face dropped in shock. David fell silent for a moment before his face twisted into a blubbering mess. "What will his father say?" David sobbed and he broke down into an endless flood of tears. BoCo was left stunned. What could he say? What could anyone say? Nothing like this had ever happened on the Island of Sodor, especially something this horrendous. The burning question was, who was the demented person or engine responsible for this brutal multiple murder and Molly's sudden disappearance and why? There would be no easy answer to this and no way to know. At least, not until morning comes to wash away the wicked evening.
