"Are you sure this is the right platform?" Chris asked the fuchsia octoling next to him, having to look up slightly to look at her face.
"Indeed. This should be the right departure platform. Why do you ask?" She looked back down at him, slightly confused.
"Marly, there's nobody here but us two. Don't you think that's even a little odd?"
"It is the evening of Splatoween, correct? Would it not make sense for only few persons to be traveling currently?"
"I… eh…" he needed a moment to understand her words. "… I guess you're right."
"Why would I not-" She was cut off by a loud whistle, one of an old fashion steam train, from a fair distance away, yet already overruling their voices to the point that Chris wouldn't have heard Marly even if she had continued to speak.
"Well… I think that's a train at least." He let out a chuckle, peeking past her to see if he could see the machine that made the sound, only to spot a thick white fog slowly rolling up to the station's platform.
"That is odd. There was no mention of fog in the weather forecast toda-" Her voice was drowned out again, this time by the screeching of metal, much closer to them than the whistle had been.
Out from the fog came rolling a steam train, mostly black with some bright red ornaments and golden yellow numbers. The carts that it pulled came into view shortly after, and every last one seemed just as ancient as the previous, yet all were in pristine condition. Lights behind the windows shimmered slightly, as if the sources were alive, yet there was no passenger in sight, although, so thought Chris, the windows were rather high up, which maybe just hid them from view.
"okay…" he looked back at Marly. "Did you know they were using this thing?"
"no? Perhaps they use trains like these for the holidays? Perhaps it has some ceremonial function?"
Chris simply shrugged, looking at the train that now stood at the platform they were waiting at, the fog having moved along and the train still steaming, like it was eager to get going again.
"Well… I don't want to leave my grandparents waiting." He took a few steps to the nearest door, opening to finally get a better view inside than the tiny, high up windows had given him so far.
As he stepped inside he almost tripped over a kid as they ran by, jumping over to the next cart and disappearing out of view. While he was, compared to the rest of the people that populated this cart, the least colorful, being a light gray, they were clearly the most lively, as the other passengers all seemed to either be staring outside, asleep, or inaudibly talking to each other and themselves.
As Chris started walking down the middle of the tables and benches on each side looking for a place to sit, nobody seemed to even acknowledge him being there, although that was nothing too uncommon he had to admit.
Around in the middle of the cart he found an empty table, sitting down and putting his traveling bag next to him, looking over down the corridor between the tables to watch how Marly was following him. She sat down opposite of him and looked around.
The cart they were in seemed like it was ripped straight from some old movie, Seemingly made of wood, and decorated with a bunch of green, red, and even some purple fabric. The lights were some of the few parts made of metal, the other being the cargo rack above them, which Marly kindly put their bags onto before sitting down again just before the train started to move again.
"Well, this is for certain a pleasant surprise." She tried to get a conversation going.
"You think so? This whole thing looks like it'd just fall apart if I move too much." He replied, shifting his weight some, which made the bench he sat on groan like old wood does.
"I can understand your point. Yet I do think this old creation looks neat."
"heh, I guess you could say that." Chris let out a chuckle before looking over to the rest of the cart again, noticing an old inkling, possibly about the age of his own grandfather, walking through the cart, stopping next to their table.
"Excuse me youngsters." He smiled, his old, yet charming voice being easily heard despite the sound of the wheels on the tracks. "Could you lend me a seat?"
"But of course." Marly told him without second thought, moving over to the wall to make some room. "Take a seat sir."
"How kind of you." He sat down, clearly happy to do so as he visibly relaxed, no longer having to support himself fully. "I might still feel like I'm no older than you are, but my body would disagree with me there."
Chris had to hold back agreeing with the man. He didn't want to give the impression he was rude, but one couldn't not agree with the old-timer. It seemed like a miracle he was still able to walk at all.
"Say…" he looked over at Chris. "you remind me of someone. Does the name John sound familiar to you?"
"yes? That's my grandpa's name."
"oh, is it now? And what is your name, boy?"
"Christofer, Christofer Splatnicus."
"A Splatnicus? He already has grandkids? Time sure does fly."
"I… guess it does? But how do you know my grandpa?" he asked, not sure what else to say.
"We used to be friends, but that was a long time ago. I've not seen him for so long…"
"What happened?" Marly finally joined in to let know she was still there and listening in.
"Well, it all had to do with a trip we were going to make. We got on a train, one of those steam trains, and went to sit down. When looking outside, we saw nothing but fog, or was it smoke?"
Chris looked outside, only to see the by now dark sky partially obstructed by the steam emitted from the train that was pulling them along.
"Everything went fine for a while, although we were slightly weirded out by how quiet it was in the train. Just being the only two in the train was a bit unnerving. Although it turned out that we actually weren't."
"oh? Who else was there with you?" Marly asked, now sitting on the edge of the bench, clearly already drawn in.
"Well, a few minutes into our trip, a child walked by, a couple of times, up and down the length of the cart. Eventually John asked them what they were doing, on which they replied that they were waiting. 'For what?' he then asked, on which the kid replied with a single word: 'this'. After which they dissolved into thin air like dissipating steam."
"Really? A ghost story, seems fitting for Splatoween night, doesn't it?" Chris rolled his eyes.
"oh, but this aint a story son." The man shook his head. "For you see, once the train finally started to slow down, and we got up, ready to leave as soon as possible, both scared out of our mind, we saw the kid again, no longer the light shade like that of slate, but a white with blueish green hue, watching us from the end of the cart, taking slow steps towards us."
"And what did the two of you do sir?"
"Well, we booked it, running towards the other end of the cart as fast as our legs could carry us. However, to our horror we found that the doors seemed to be locked, the light from the station that shone through the high up windows taunting us, and the light that emanated from the ghostly child slowly drawing closer."
"Then how did you two escape?" She asked, seeing the man frown some. "Sorry I keep interrupting sir."
"no it's fine, you're excited to hear more. Most are when I tell them this story." He glanced over at Chris, who now too had started to listen more closely. "So, there we were, our backs in a corner. But then is when we saw it, or rather, John saw it, a little hammer, meant for breaking windows in emergency situations. And, well, it was safe to say we felt like this was an emergency.
Using me to reach for it, John took it, and with my help he was able to reach the window. The thing was, when he tried it, he didn't even make a dent in the glass. Not like any kid is expected to be able to. And while he tried harder and harder, I was left holding him up as I saw the child getting ever closer. Every step they took was calm, like they knew we weren't getting out of this place."
"But they were wrong, right?" Marly asked, before adding a quick: "sorry".
"Indeed, As they were just a couple of steps away, John was finally able to break the glass and-" The train's whistle cut through his voice, the train having already been slowing down without them noticing. "oh, is this your stop?"
"It is." Chris nodded, getting up, trying to reach for his bag, not being able to reach, and deciding to wait for Marly to get them. "Sorry to leave so soon,… mister?"
"Eric, Eric Splanderson." He got up as well, so Marly could leave her spot. "It was a pleasure to meet you two."
"yeah… I'll tell my grandpa we met you. I bet he can finish that story you started."
"oh I bet he can. Now, off you go." He waved as the two left the train. "And a happy Splatoween!"
The two stepped out onto the platform of the relatively small station, walking over to the one building that stood next to it, since they'd agreed to meet up with Chris' grandparents there.
"What a nice man. I can see why he would be someone their friend." Marly chimed, looking around the building to see if she could see the two they had promised to meet here.
"yeah…" Chris looked back at the train, only to find it was already gone, only some foggy steam left to show it had been there in the first place.
"Although it is weird they have yet to- oh there they are!" she pointed as a car on the road that was driving in their direction.
"How can you be so sure about that?" Chris looked as well.
"Those headlights." She noted. "They were only ever fitted on the model of car that your grandmother rides in."
"oh… and you know that how exactly?"
"I thought that was common knowledge?"
"no?" he shrugged, waiting for the car to stop by the building so they could get in.
After getting in and having the more general greetings over with, chris thought it was a good idea to mention the friend of his granddad that they met. "So, grandpa?"
"What is it boy?" he looked over from the passenger seat.
"We met someone who told us a story, and we wondered if you could finish it. Does the name Eric remind you of someone?"
"It does." He sighed. "Was it about the haunted train?"
"Yes? I think. You two were being chased by a little kid that was also a ghost I believe."
"Yes, and, thanks to his help, I was able to break the window and get out. Sadly, before I got the chance to help him up and through, he was dragged off by that ghost of a child. It's due to his sacrifice that I'm here today."
"But that's just a childhood story you kept repeating dear." Chris' grandmother came between them, her eyes still on the road. "nobody knows where that little boy Eric disappeared to. Your little story is just a reason for why you never want to travel by train alone."