A/N: This story gets adapted way too much, but I can't complain either. The reason why this has come sooner than others is because of the events that are occurring across the world. Hope you all stay safe and enjoy!
1968
"And on every year, on the date of the accident, it runs again. As a warning to others, plunging into the gap, shrieking like a lost soul!"
"Ahhh! Scary!" cried out Henry as he backed into the shed.
James scowled at this. "Now you just ruined the tension Henry," he said crossly.
Henry smirked. "There was probably no tension in that story at all," he replied.
James' driver had seen a movie from the 1940s called the 'The Ghost Train' and now the red engine was a spree of telling tales of ghosts and spooky stories. It was creepy at first, but now it was getting repetitive to Gordon and Henry. Duck and Oliver, who were staying in the sheds that night wasn't finding it intriguing either. Oliver just smiled in bemusement whilst Duck would just roll his eyes.
"God, no wonder I left these sheds," murmured the Great Western engine. It was lucky thing that James didn't here, since he was too invested in arguing with the big green engine.
Gordon groaned, he hated it when the engines started arguing. "Can you all please be quiet," he said, "I've got an express to pull tomorrow and I can't have you all barking about how bad James' stories are."
Silence came from within the sheds. "Well..." said Henry, "they are bad."
"Mine are better than yours!"
"Oh, for goodness sake! What did I just-"
A toot of a whistle distracted the three big engines looked to see a bright blue engine come backing into the sheds. Everyone knew who he was. Edward parked himself between Gordon and Henry. He grinned at them "I could hear you all the way on the other side of the yard," he stated, "how the residents here haven't complained about it I do not know."
"Because they gave up years ago," murmured Duck to Oliver.
"Henry thinks I can't tell a good ghost story," James told
"Because you can't," snorted Henry, "you're rubbish!"
James angrily wheeshed steam. "I'm better than you at least," he retorted.
"Oh please," scoffed the green engine, "I would never tell tall tales of ghosts, they're silly make-belief things just to scare the young ones."
"Remember Samson."
"Samson was a spectre James, he doesn't count in this matter."
"Who's Samson?"
All the engines looked to the corner of the sheds to see an innocent-looking, but curious Oliver. The engines then remembered Oliver hadn't been around at that time and gave him awkward smiles. "Nothing to worry about," Gordon.
Oliver wasn't convinced, but subsided. Henry on the other buffer, didn't. "I still stand my case," he declared, "ghosts aren't real."
"You did believe they were real once," said Edward sweetly.
The engines all stared at the old blue engine for a while, then Henry gasped. "That one doesn't count either!" he exclaimed.
"It does really," replied Edward.
"Go on, tell us," James smirked. Duck and Oliver also urged Edward to tell the story. Henry tried his very best, but even Gordon began to asking Edward about it. Eventually, the green engine gave up and Edward began his tale.
1929
The Great Depression had begun around in August and by September lines were heavily at risk such as the Arlesburgh and Ffarquahar branch line. By the end of it, Sir Topham Hatt, the first controller of the North Western Railway, decided to get rid of the loop line. This line wasn't special, but when building the mainline for the NWR in 1915 that line was considered to be narrow to be a mainline. The loop line was left there though and was given a set points halfway along, so engines go around and go back the way they came from. The line starts at Tidmouth junction and rejoins the mainline a mile out before reaching Thomas' junction. The line was only used for engines to turn back around to Tidmouth or do test runs on it, other times it is used by smaller engines, whose trains couldn't fit the gap of the timetable or felt it better to go without being disturbed by the bigger engines like Gordon.
When the news broke out, the engines were a little sad, but none more than Colin.
Colin was a small little engine, like Percy, but was painted red with gold lining. He was kind engine but was soft and oblivious at times. Basically, he wasn't a bright engine. But he did his work without fuse. He enjoyed the loop line more than any engine, going on it almost every day. So, when the Fat Controller asked who would like to be signed to take the line apart, Colin almost immediately volunteered. For the first few weeks, whilst taking the rails away from the line the engines use to turn around on.
When Gordon heard about that section of the loop line had been taken apart, he had a tight smug on his face. "Good riddance," he said to the engines that night at the sheds, "that loop line should've been deposed of ages ago!"
Lily the vintage engine scowled at Gordon for the remark. "That line was very special to Colin," she said to the big engine, "it's like if your express was going to be taken away from you."
"Pah," snorted Gordon, "that would never happen."
Colin remained quiet. Henry, who had his old shape back then, looked over to Colin. "What's up with you?" he asked.
"I just don't want the line to go," he said sadly.
"Well tough luck," replied Henry, "we all lose something in hard times, these are hard times, so you just have to get used to it."
Lily overheard and scowled at the big green engine. "Why can't you ever understand empathy Henry?" she asked.
Henry stared at the vintage engine for a moment, but Gordon decided to break the silence. "Because Henry is right my dear Lily," he said, "we all know that little line wasn't special, and it was inevitable that it would be taken down."
"But that still doesn't mean Colin isn't allowed to mourn," Lily replied.
"Paah," wheeshed Gordon, "Colin is a little tank engine! Small, small, small. Teeny-weeny-weeny."
"And what is you reason with that?" seethed Lily.
"Because I," boasted Gordon, "I, am a big engine who knows everything."
"Evidently not," said Lily.
Before Gordon reply, Henry came to back him up. "Don't listen to her," he said, "she doesn't understand."
"Indeed," said Gordon quietly.
Colin still felt miserable and the engines soon went to sleep. But the next morning, the engines woke up to see rain pouring down through the cracks of the doors.
"Perfect," said Henry sarcastically.
"Better be careful Henry!" called Colin innocently, "don't want your paint to get ruined."
"Yes, thank you Colin," replied Henry, the green engine knew that Colin didn't mean to joke about, he wasn't like James or Thomas. But he had to have every ounce of steam to make sure he didn't snap. The firemen soon came, and then their drivers. They opened the doors and the engines eventually puffed out into cold air, albeit begrudgingly.
Colin picked up the works train and headed to the loop line. When he got there, they began to take away the rails at the other end of the line and replace the points with normal straight track. Colin didn't like it at all but could only watch and pull the trucks along the line as to where the workmen want them. It was beginning to get dark, but eventually, Colin came to a stone bridge. The stone bridge was old but was able to take the weight of Colin and his small works train. The workmen inspected the bridge carefully.
"Should we leave it?" asked one workman.
"We could," replied the foreman, "but I think it's best if we ask Sir Topham Hatt about this, we need to make sure on the matter."
Colin who was solid ground, looked above, the bridge went over a stream, and with the rain still tipping it down, the waters had risen and the pace of it had quickened. The little shunter didn't like that one bit. "Can we go please?" he asked anxiously, "I don't want to get swept away."
"You know you're on solid ground," laughed his driver, "even if the bridge collapsed, you'd stay on the rails."
Colin blushed a light red. Soon the workmen decided to leave the bridge and head back to the big station. But as Colin began to puff away from the viaduct, he could feel someone watching him.
*
The Fat Controller went to visit the stone bridge the next day. It wasn't raining, but dark grey clouds covered the sky. Colin had only brought an inspection coach, and the Fat Controller observed the bridge similarly to how the workmen did yesterday. He then went back to Colin and his crew.
"I think it will be fine," he said to them, "all that matters is getting rid of the rails. Best if we head back now, I'll make arrangements to have Colin and the workmen come out here tonight."
"T-T-Tonight?" said Colin shivering a little.
"Do you have a problem with that Colin?" asked the Fat Controller, raising a brow.
"N-N-No sir," stammered the little engine, as they began to leave for the big station again, Colin felt eyes staring upon him once more.
That evening, Colin didn't feel too well, the workmen tried to make him better, but nothing worked. "The only engine available is Henry," said the shed master to an inspector.
"Then he'll have to do it," sighed the inspector. When the hybrid engine heard about this, he was fuming.
"Why do I have to go down that uncomfortable line?" he demanded. Henry had only been down that line once and found most unpleasant. He tried his very to persuade his crew and workmen, but he eventually gave in. He snorted out of the shed and whooshed past Colin rudely.
He hoped Gordon or James didn't see him, but luck wasn't on his side that night. Gordon was backing down towards the sheds as he saw the hybrid engine be coupled up to a line of trucks in front of him. He burst out laughing and came to a stop next to red in the face Henry.
"Oh, dear Henry," he chortled, "never thought I'd see you taking a works train!"
The blue hybrid engine's boiler temperature suddenly shot up. "The only reason why I'm doing it is because I was the only engine available at the time," he said, "if you only got here sooner, I bet you'd be on this train before you would've said express."
Gordon laughed once more. "I never pull trucks Henry!" he said, "they aren't to my standards."
"Not to your standards," scoffed Henry, "you're just scared."
"Me?! Scared!? Of what?!"
"Of the line being haunted," replied Henry, saying like it obvious to Gordon.
Gordon sniffed indignantly. Then, from within the night sky, the sound of an owl, hooting through the air was heard. Gordon grinned; he had an idea. "Well Henry," he said mysteriously, "the line is haunted."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "Whenever an owl hoots," explained Gordon darkly, "a mist rolls in and a ghost comes to haunt the tracks of the loop line."
"You just made that up," replied Henry, "where did you get that stupid story?"
"Vagabonds talk a lot," the big engine smirked, "but if you don't believe me, then see for yourself! Take care on the line Henry!"
Gordon then puffed off, leaving Henry in the cold yards. The hybrid engine only rolled his eyes. He buffered up to the train of flatbeds, vans and open wagons in front of him, with the work's coach behind him. A porter blew a whistle to notify the driver of the line being cleared and Henry began to push the train towards the loop line.
When Henry got to the set of points leading him to the line, he began to think Gordon's ghost story. "Owls, ghost, mist!" he huffed, "Gordon is just been an idiot once again, we heard that owl hoot ages ago and there's still no mist and there won't be any for the rest of the night!"
But Henry was wrong.
The mist came in thick and by the time Henry was reaching his destination, he could see a few yards. The trucks couldn't see either and grumbled bitterly, the workmen did too. "We can't take the rails away if we can't bloody see!" complained one.
"Aye," agreed another, "might as well turn back."
The foreman sighed. Then the train came to a rough stop. "What's going on?" growled the foreman, he looked out of the window. "Oi! What are you doing with stopping suddenly?"
"Sorry!" called Henry's driver, "but there's an amber lamb in front of us!"
"An amber lamb? What does that mean?"
"Means we need to proceed with caution!" replied the driver. He leaned against Henry's cab and peered into the fog. "Who's there?!"
No one replied. The driver put his head back into the cab and put the brakes, Henry crept forward. He was a little nervous, owls hooting, mist appearing, ghosts next. Henry pleaded to Gordon in his mind that he was just making it up.
A little further up the line, Henry, came towards a swamp. The line just curved in front of them which lead to the viaduct, it only hid the line with a huge rock. Then Henry looked to see a platform with a ruined building sitting alone with a crossing to a road wedged between the curve and abandoned building.
The hybrid engine was confused and so was his driver, he was looking at a sign which had been forced onto a dead tree next to the line saying in bloody red letters:
BEWARE OF THE VIADUCT
"No one warned us about that," said the driver, "and look, the signal is red a-a-and there's an old fogman's coat!"
He was right, hooked onto a tree, was an orange, dirty coat. It flapped in the wind and Henry felt very unease by it. Suddenly, the gates on the level crossing began to shut close in front of Henry. The creaking of old wood and groaning of old freaked the poor engine out.
"G-G-Ghosts!" he yelled, "Gordon was right!"
"Something very strange is going on," said the driver to the fireman, "I think it's best if we go back."
The gates then stopped moving as soon as they faced Henry, blocking his path like a fortress. "S-So do I," stammered the hybrid engine, the driver opened the reverser, and the engine backed up quickly along the line, with the trucks clattering in front of him.
*
The next morning, Colin woke up feeling much better. He came up to Henry looking bright and cheery. "Thanks for taking my train last night Henry," he called to the hybrid engine.
"Yes-well," pondered Henry, shivering a little.
"What's the matter now?" asked Colin.
"The line didn't look safe last night," Henry replied quickly.
"Safe?" said Colin, "what's the matter with it."
"There were all of these warnings to make us go back, so we did."
"Did you reach the bridge?"
"Only got to that abandoned station at that swamp," replied Henry, "that's when the gates closed on us."
"Gates closed on you?" said Colin, "that's impossible!"
"Well it isn't," huffed Henry, slightly annoyed and he snorted away to fetch his next train.
Later that day, Henry was back at the sheds when his driver came running back up. "We can take the train back up to the bridge tonight Henry," he said. Henry was confused and very annoyed.
"Why do I have to take?" he demanded, "Colin could take it up there, he seems fine with it now and I need to take the first train of tomorrow!"
"We're only taking the train up there," said the driver, "then we head straight back here. It'll be less of a hassle for Colin since he's needed here to shunt the first trains of the day."
Henry was very annoyed, then he realised something. "Wait, aren't the workmen coming with us?"
"No."
Henry spluttered. "But why?"
"They were more spooked than us last night, and refuse to go down it at any time of the night," explained the driver, "and without a steam engine with them, I'm guessing they don't want to be stuck there whilst strange things are going about that line."
Henry was very annoyed, it wasn't fair. The workmen could go with Colin in the morning, but Henry was forced to take the train down that haunted line. He was grumbling for a few minutes on his own, but not for long.
Gordon came up to Henry with a large smirk on his face. "Any encounters with ghosts?" he asked cheekily.
"W-What?" said Henry, "n-no. Nothing at of the ordinary down that line, we were just fine."
"That train of trucks that you were supposed to take down that line says not," replied Gordon, "I'm guessing you were too scared to go down it."
"Me?" snorted Henry, an angry frown planted onto his face, "everything going down that stupid line kept telling us to stop!"
"Probably because the ghosts don't like fat blue engines on their lines," chortled Gordon.
"If I'm fat, then you would be ginormous," retorted Henry. The big, blue engine frowned indignantly, but before he had a chance to reply, the blue engine left the bigger engine behind in a cloud of steam.
*
Later that night though, Henry was sizzling nicely in the yards with the train of trucks in front of him again. One empty flatbed for the rails. Four vans of different colours, shapes and sizes. And two open wagons at the front.
No brake van at all, there was no point in one at all. Henry gave a relaxing smile to himself.
"No owl hooting, steam is good so far," he said, "and there's no mist. Everything is going-"
An owl hooted suddenly and Gordon gave a loud, booming whistle. Henry jumped whilst the trucks laughed. The big, blue engine came up alongside the hybrid blue engine. Just like the way they did last night.
"Take care," chuckled Gordon, giving Henry a wink, "hope the ghost doesn't get you!"
"Pah!" snorted Henry, "there's no such thing as ghosts!"
"Suit yourself," chortled Gordon, as he puffed off once more, "but don't say I didn't warn you."
Henry growled crossly as the trucks kept on laughing. "Henry is spooked!" joked one of the trucks and the others burst out laughing again.
"Be quiet!" snapped Henry, giving them a sharp bump, "I'm not spooked or scared at all!"
But he was, as he began to shunt the trucks towards the line once again.
The mist began to fall, Henry's chuffing sounds became louder and rattled in his smokebox. He felt the rails hum beneath his wheels. The mist was thick and trucks chuckling to each other. Then it happened. The yellow light was seen through the cloudy white.
"Here we go," murmured the driver, as Henry puffed right past the lamb.
Then everything happened at once.
The humming rails began to vibrate violently. The trucks shook about and the howling of the wind began to grow louder and louder. "What's going on?" cried Henry, as they headed towards the station by the swamp. Then the gates began to close by themselves, and the signal forced itself down to show it's glaring red light. The trucks had had enough.
"On! On! On!" they screamed, "there's a ghost about!"
"Stop! Stop!" wailed Henry, but the trucks didn't listen, as the hybrid engine felt the tug of the flatbed's coupling. The sign nailed on the tree suddenly came right off and hit Henry's boiler. "Ouch!" cried Henry, but before he realised, the trucks rammed straight through the level crossing and around the hidden bend.
A mysterious figure watched Henry go by on the rotten platform.
Then as Henry came around the bend, he gasped in shock, as most of the bridge had vanished. His driver applied his brakes, but it was no good, the trucks clattered over the remains of the fallen bridge and into the river below. Henry luckily managed to stop just in time. The flatbed's front bogies were floating over the river whilst the rest of the trucks remained a mess within the river below. Then as Henry began to control his breath, he heard a mysterious, ghostly voice. It sounded gruff and had an echo of it behind it.
"Terrible things will happen to you..."
Henry gasped, as he saw an old man with brown overalls looked over to the hybrid engine, he turned and walked away. The driver peaked out of the cab and groaned. "Someone could've warned us about the bloody bridge being down!" he yelled.
The fireman also peaked out of the cab. "Sir Topham Hatt won't be happy about this," he said.
The driver shook his head, putting his head back in the cab and grabbed the handle to the brakes with his pale hand. He tried to release them, but the handle wouldn't budge, he tried again, harder this time. Still, the handle wouldn't move. The driver groaned even louder. "The brakes are wedged in," he said, "Henry won't be going anyway this time tonight."
"Well I'm not either," declared the fireman, "I'm not walking down the line at this time."
"I agree with you there," the driver replied, "I guess we'll be stuck here for the rest of the night; you hear that Henry? Henry?"
Henry just remained silent.
*
"Henry was picked up Gordon at the crack at dawn as I recall," said Edward, "they luckily managed to fix his brakes just before his first train. The trucks were pulled out of the river later that day and the line continued to be dismantled, until there was no stone of ballast to be seen."
"What happened to the bridge?" asked Oliver.
"It was said that the river's current had weaken the arches crossing the river and gave way a few minutes before Henry got there," explained Edward, "the remains of the bridge is still there, as well as that station."
"How do you know all of this?" asked Duck.
"Well someone was feeling a little paranoid at the time and came to me for help," smiled Edward to a red in the face Henry the green engine.
"Why tell them this?" demanded Henry.
"Well, it has been over thirty years," Edward replied, "it was about time that they knew of this."
"So what was the voice supposed to be?" asked Oliver.
Henry pondered on the thought for a few seconds. "I just came to the conclusion that with me panicking so much, that I must've been hearing things, the wind wasn't helping either."
"Ahhh, I see," said Oliver.
"Well then," sighed Edward, "I think it's best we all go to sleep."
Duck and Oliver still had many questions about the whole story but decided to let it slide and ask in the morning. James also turned in for the night and fell asleep soon after the Great Western engines. Gordon and Henry remained awake though, with Edward dozing off between them.
"Listen, um... Henry," whispered Gordon as quietly as possible so not to stir Edward. "I'm... sorry about being so rude to you and making up that ghost story. It was unprofessional and I didn't realise my effects would harm your mental abilities."
Henry blushed a shade of red and smiled. "Thank you, Gordon," he replied, "but you don't need to apologise. Even though you're still the same stuck-up, boastful and prideful engine I've met. You've grown a lot since you first coming here. Well... after you showed your true nature."
Gordon scoffed with a chuckle following it. He glanced back at Henry and smiled warmly at him within the moonlight. "Thank you, Henry," he said, "it's great to have a friend by my side."
The big engine then shut his eyes, and went to sleep, but when he did. Something hit hard in Henry, the smile became a frown and he looked down at his buffers in sadness and disappointment. "Friend," he murmured quietly to himself, then he went to sleep. The yards went quiet after that, with only the wind bristling within the trees.
