The sound of a ferry horn tore through the morning air. From their houses, workers began to emerge and make their way down to where the air was thick with salt and seagulls cawed above the top of the Sodor Shipping Company. Crates were loaded onto flatbeds with heavy thuds, and the squeaks of wheels and the purr of machinery served as a daily chorus to remind those about that this was a working dockside.

Amongst the hustle and bustle of the busy harbour, two identical, ochre coloured saddle tanks pulled into a siding to await a shipment that they had been sent to transport back to the China Clay Company. From the cab door of one of these engines, a blonde haired teenager stuck his head out, trying to get the attention of his fellow driver in the matching tank engine.

"Oi Ben – I betcha I can get my half of this equipment back to the clay pits before you"

"Oh no you don't – I'm not falling for that one again, Bill"

Bill grinned, fluttering his eyelashes in mock innocence.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not going to switch the tracks this time, The Fat Controller made sure I knew how absolutely dangerous that was"

"As well he might" Ben huffed indignantly "I almost crashed into Philip! My engine could have been at the Steamworks for weeks! Or worse! It could have been scra-"

"Yeah yeah, I get it. No changing tracks" Another mischievous grin spread across the number one clay twin's face "Well if we're not racing today, how about a different kind of bet?"

Ben raised an eyebrow, intrigued as to the ingenious prank his brother was concocting in his mind.

Coming up along the sea wall, Bill spotted something – or rather, someone very intriguing indeed. Perfect.

"Speaking of the Fat Controller, I bet I can get Cranky to drop a box of fish on him"

"You do that" Ben snorted "And I'll spend a night in the Haunted Hollow"

"The Haunted Hollow, you say? Ahaharr"

The sound of another driver made both twins jump for a second, and they turned to see a scarlet diesel engine roll to a stop on a neighbouring track. A middle aged man with a bucktoothed grin leant out of his own cab window, a mysterious twinkle in his eye.

"Aye, ye know why we call it the haunted hollow, right?"

"Actually, no" Ben frowned "Why DO we call it Haunted, Salty?"

Even Bill was listening now, as he'd always been intrigued by Salty's stories, however little he believed them.

"Many years ago, when Sodor was first being built, the area around Whistling Woods was actually a railway station! But it's been so long now that nobody remembers the name, Anyway, legend has it that there was an old stationmaster there, very dedicated to his job. Some might say too dedicated – as the years went by and Sodor became a modern island, the old station was closed down. They tried to move the station master, but he refused! Every morning, like clockwork, he'd show up to an empty, overgrown station, and pace the abandoned floors until one day … he disappeared! A search party, a rescue party and the police all searched the island for many days, but he was never seen again. But they say if you hide out in the Haunted Hollow, and listen very closely, you may just hear the rattle of an old keychain, as a nameless station master still haunts a station that no longer exists, inspecting the ghostly tracks that no longer run"

Ben was brought out of his trance by the sound of his brother laughing beside him.

"A ghostly station master? I can't wait till Ben meets him!"

"I'm not going to meet him!" Ben protested, feeling silly for getting so flustered over a tale he didn't even believe.

"We'll see" Bill's eyes flashed mischievously, and he leant out of the other cab door.

"Oi, Cranky! Pass us one of them fish crates will ya?"

"Fish crates? Why the bloody hell do you want fish crates? Aren't you guys waiting for digging equipment?"

"It's for errr" Bill snapped his fingers several times, trying to come up with a name "Ted! Yeah, you know Ted, big bloke. He wanted the fish for uh, lunch! Henry said we could take one of his boxes, look I have the paperwork" Bill flashed a piece of paper out of the window and tucked it back in before the crane driver had a chance to look at the writing "It's all been cleared!"

"Hm. If you're SURE"

The large olive hook descended and was coupled up to one of the fish crates. Ben could only watch, in disbelief that his twin's cockamamie story had actually worked. He could only watch, slack jawed as the rest of the plan began to unravel like yarn in front of him.

Then, seeing unusual activity, Sir Topham Hatt began to make his way up to their side of the dock to inquire about Cranky and the crate. As soon as he was positioned just under it, Bill grabbed his whistle, and blew hard. The sudden shrill shocked everyone on the dockside, including Cranky, who lost control of his steering. The crane arm began to rapidly descend down towards the ground until, with a large thunk, the wood hit the floor of the dockside, sending a shower of wet, slimy fish cascading upwards – and directly onto The Fat Controller himself.

Had it been any other day, Ben would have joined in his brother's uproarious laughter. But Ben wasn't laughing today. And as he stared at the fish covered controller, he wondered just how haunted the haunted hollow was really going to be.

"The Whistling Woods ey? Aintcha scared of ghosts?"

"I don't believe in ghost stories" Ben huffed, setting his mug down on the coaster with a clank "Besides, I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself"

This much was at least true, as the Bagnall twins had had their 18th birthday only a month earlier. Not that Ben really felt the candles on his cake would drive off any spooky apparitions but he wasn't a little child anymore either, and felt he could handle one night in a forest. Alone.

"Ah think it sounds kind of fun" Douglas McIntosh piped up, finishing off the last bite of his sandwich and setting aside his empty plate.

The Scots were a pair of twins as identical to each other as the Bagnall's were, and had become good friends with the clay twins through a mere coincidence. Donald was the hot headed number nine driver with a fondest for practical jokes, and Bill had adored him the second he laid eyes on the Caledonians. Douglas was calmer, and perhaps a bit more on the sensitive side. Although Ben found his brother's fawning over them annoying at the best of times, the number 2 had come to regard them as dear friends just as much, however little he wanted to admit it out loud.

"It'll be fun for me" Bill laughed from across the table "When Ben comes back crying"

"You spend a night then"

"I didn't lose the bet now, did I?"

Ben glowered at his empty mug as though it had just insulted his favourite band.

"I'm not … I'm not scared. I just think this whole thing is a bit silly, over some fish"

"It sounded awesome to me" Donald laughed, slapping his knee as he leant back in his chair "Yer a right card, Billy"

Had he not been his brother, Ben would have regarded the expression on Bill's face at that moment as sickening. As he WAS his brother, he found it practically nauseating.

"Ye sure you'll be ok tonight, Ben? Ye look a little green, man"

Ben looked back at Douglas, who was giving him a sympathetic smile. For once, the Brummie was pleased to have someone with a sense of sentimentality on his side.

"Yeah, it's just one night of camping right? I don't believe in ghost stories anymore than you do"

"Oh ah don't know, we know some pretty good legends from our homeland" Douglas grinned, but seeing as this did not seem to reassure Ben, he tried to act serious "Say, ah still have a spare tent from mah scoutin' days, maybe ah could join ye tonight, keep ya company like"

Ben expected Bill to object to this, not least because it meant that Ben would have to suffer the night alone, but for some strange reason he didn't seem too bothered by the idea of Douglas joining in. Ben made a mental note to ask him about it later.

"Ah think it sounds like fun! Ah'd join ye too but ah was goin' tae have a quiet night tonight, ah didn't get home till three yesterday because of a big derailment at Alesburgh"

"And we don't want Ben to be TOO cushy" Bill teased, a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

Later that afternoon, Ben had his tent and sleeping bag packed up, as well as a small bag of other essentials and recreation, just in case he 'got bored of not seeing enough ghosts'. The packing had sort of reminded him of the old school trips both of them had been on back in the mainland. In particular, Ben remembered the one time they had stayed for four nights in Sherwood Forest. At the time, he had been excited, as he thought the legends of Robin Hood were pretty awesome, and fancied himself a fearsome outlaw, complete with a bow and arrow. In fact, Ben had been so keen on the bow and arrow idea that on the second day of the residential, he had attempted to craft one from an unusual combination of forest and camping supplies. It had worked decently too, as much as a self-made bow and arrow could for a child. That was until he accidentally shot a stick into the face of one of the rangers, and was forced to spend the last two days in the time out tent, whilst Bill returned each evening to tell him about all the fun stuff they had been up to that day.

"Alright, you got everything?"

"Yeah sure"

"Douglas is meeting you there, right?"

"Yeah"

Ben suddenly remembered he'd had a question about just that topic.

"Say Bill, why did you let Douglas come with me anyway? I was the one that lost the bet, I would have thought you'd love to see me suffer tonight"

"Well with Douglas staying with you and you in the woods I was going to call company"

"Oh"

Ben thought that sounded reasonable, and then it clicked which 'company' Bill was referring too.

"Wait a minute, I'm not leaving you alone to cosy up to Donald, that's disgusting"

"Pft, tough tankies Ben we made a deal on this bet – besides, me and Donald are just friends"

"Yeah but I know what you want"

"What I WANT and what I HAVE aren't the same things, are they? But yeah ok I let Douglas go with you cause I was going to invite Donnie for a movie, is that a crime? Two friends hanging out whilst their brother's spend a night in a haunted forest?"

"But-"

"Stop being a gooseberry. Go and find some ghosts. Look after Douglas, see ya tomorrow"

"Douglas doesn't need me to l-"

But Bill had already shut the door.

"… Bastard" Ben muttered under his breath, gathering up his supplies as he made his way to his engine.

Douglas was already waiting for him when Ben pulled up to the Whistling Woods. He parked his engine along an adjacent siding close to his friend's tender engine, and hopped out, supplies in hand.

"Evenin' Benny, ye got everything?"

"Yeah" Ben scrunched up his nose, looking at the forest floor covered with sticks and plants. "Say what's stopping us from just sleeping in our engines and PRETENDING we stayed overnight? I mean I don't think Bill is going to check on me"

"But then we'd miss out on the fun! Or are ye chicken?" Douglas grinned, knowing that they both knew he was teasing.

"I'm not the one who's chicken!" Ben huffed, dropping his camping supplies by his feet.

It didn't take too long to set up the tents, they chose a nice sheltered spot where the ground was fairly soft from spring rains the previous months, and the two single sleeper tents could be set up in a matter of minutes. The airbeds were blown with manual pumps and the bags they had brought were thrown into their respective sleeping quarters. Ben was practically ready to sleep to just get it over with, but the hands on his watch were only pointing to half six, and Douglas had insisted he'd already found something cool to check out for the rest of the evening until it got too dark.

Following his friend along a little dirt path that had clearly been worn over the years from walkers, the Brummie watched as Douglas pushed aside some thicket and the two emerged into a shallow freshwater creek. It gurgled along the top of some flat rocks as it wound round a bend and even further into the forest, where Ben didn't particularly feel like exploring. The haunted hollow was already spooky enough, and the last thing he wanted to imagine were any headless horsemen or other strange apparitions lurking in the dark.

"Hope ye brought yer swimming costume laddie"

"I'm not going swimming in there! I might get carried away" Ben protested, looking down at the fast flowing water. His reflection danced across it, unable to settle on the current.

"It's only a little creek" Douglas shrugged, but he didn't push it "Ah heard about this place from Hiro, he said it was pretty an' he was right, ah just thought it'd be more fun than goin' to sleep just yet – tae Whistlin' Woods are actually very pretty if ye give em a chance, thought it might take yer mind off ghostly stationmasters. Ah even brought a spare pair of trunks, though they might be a wee bit big on ye"

Ben was silent for a little bit, mulling the words over in his head. That was actually quite sweet of Douglas. Growing up in a foster home and dealing with the challenges that had come from it, Ben had resolved to himself to adopt a me, myself and I attitude. Truly, he hadn't even thought of bringing something along for Douglas, even after the generous offer to join him so he wouldn't be so afraid of the hollow. Douglas was a kind and sensitive soul, and a damn good friend, something Ben felt he had not been in return. And he had to admit, the creek WAS rather pretty. Tall trees overhung it either side, sheltering it from the elements. In the dusk it had a particularly pretty atmosphere, with the golden-pink sky above as the sun set in the west.

Ben removed his socks and shoes, and rolled up his scarlet trousers to the knees. The stream was cool, but not unpleasant, and the man allowed himself to pause for a while to listen to the sound of crickets in the woods and a wood pigeon somewhere in the trees. There was a large grey rock jutting out over the creek, and coming out from behind it was Douglas, having discarded his regular uniform for a pair of knee length black swim trunks.

Ben tried not to stare too much, as this would be impolite, but he was surprised by the physical might of Douglas, who he had known was strong almost felt jealous of in that moment. Both of the Bagnall twins were on the shorter side for their age and gender, and whilst this usually didn't bother them, Ben wondered how powerful he'd feel with a physique more akin to the Scots – not that Douglas would ever use such a thing to any advantage, which Ben thought was somewhat boring.

"It's actually quite warm this evenin" Douglas called out, dipping down in the water and then remerging with a shake of his head "Ye sure you don't want the spare trunks?"

"I'm happy to paddle" Ben admitted, and knew that Douglas would respect his boundaries. He licked his lips "But um, thank you for thinking of me – both with the whole camping thing and this, I really appreciate it"

"Ach, nae bother Benny, we're friends right?"

"Yeah" Ben smiled "Yeah. We are – and you know what? I'll take those spare trunks after all"

The water really was quite pleasant once he was in, and it reminded Ben yet again of his childhood, playing in lakes and ponds as a kid, jumping over his brother's back and splashing him. He playfully splashed Douglas now, but regretted it immediately when the Scotsman sent back a much larger tidal wave in his direction, making Ben shriek as the cold water soaked him through. The two stayed in the creek until the sun had fully set behind the trees and the breeze grew cold.

They huddled around a campfire that Douglas set up evening and ate plates of instant camping food. Ben had brought chocolate digestives and marshmallows to make off brand smores for dessert, which worked just as well. The sounds of wild crickets rose as the darkness fell further and further down, until their only source of light was the campfire in front of them. Ben looked intently into the flames, trying to think about anything other than the possibility of ghosts.

"Ye feeling alright?"

"Hm? Yeah"

"Ye tired yet?"

The clay twin shook his head.

"Me neither, ah thought we could share some ghost stories"

"Isn't that what we're trying to avoid?!"

Douglas grinned.

"Chicken?"

"Shut up, you. Alright, I know one, it happened to us and it's just as silly as the rest of them – back in the foster home Bill SWEARS up and down that he saw a pale green lady in a long nightdress roaming the halls and that she HAD to be a ghost. He took me back to the same spot night after night, but to no surprise I never saw her. Then we went on a residential trip this one time and he wakes me up at about midnight saying he could see her again outside the cabin and it was the exact same lady. So I'm all groggy but I go and look and it was our own matron in her baggy nightie and with a facemask on. I called him an idiot for months after that, even told him to get checked for glasses though they said he didn't need them"

Douglas hooted with laughter at his friend's tale, it was a jolly sound.

"An' how old were ye?"

"Oh, only about eleven or so, I guess it would have frightened a kid but I still thought he was silly"

"Ye two make me chuckle" The number 10 driver grinned "Alright, ah've got one now. Happened back on Sodor too, not too long ago – me and Donnie had tae take some crates up to Lord Callan's castle, but we got stuck at a siding due tae a landslide. And ye know, Callan Castle is in tae misty valley, so when night fell we couldnae see a thing! Then through tae mist we saw what we thought was a loch ness monster! Ah hadnae believed in legends before then but fer a second ah was sure we were gonners"

Ben was gripping the edge of his camping seat in curiosity.

"And then?"

"It was Harvey's crane-engine and tae breakdown crane coming tae move the trees and rescue our break van"

"Oh" Ben said. Then he laughed "I guess we can both be a little silly. I really don't think much of all these ghost stories though to be honest with you"

"Aye, me neither – say, tae fire's almost out an' it's getting cold – ye want some?"

Ben looked at the bottle in his friend's hands. It had a bright orange liquid, and a white picture of a honeybee on the label.

"What … is it?"

"The finest of whiskey – actually ah think this one might be Irish, Donald nicked it off Ena, so ah nicked it off him"

Ben couldn't help but smirk. Ena was one half of another set of engine driver twins, two female drivers from Belfast that the other twins had come to know. Unlike her sister, Ena was rather short tempered and grouchy at the best of times, so the McIntosh's and Bagnalls had found a lot of joy in winding her up.

"You guys like that stuff strong" Ben wrinkled his nose "Not sure about it"

"Ach, it's not Scottish but it's warmin', just try a sip"

Well it couldn't hurt to try.

Ben took a large swig from the bottle and regretted it instantly. He handed it back to Douglas, coughing and spluttering.

"Easy, easy, if ah'd known ye were gonna down it like a funnel ah'd have brought a shot glass … er how is it?"

"Spicy" Ben blinked away tears from his eyes. Now that the burning sensation in his throat had started to ebb away he was filled with a warmth that radiated through his chest and was not as unpleasant as the taste had been.

"Heh, well at least you can say you tried" Douglas took his own, smaller, sip and screwed the lid back on "Ahh~ Tell ye what, us Celts know how to make it potent"

"You're telling me, oi"

The fire had been reduced to embers by now, and as the last few orange glows faded, the two of them were submerged into complete darkness.

"Welp. Time tae face tae ghostly station master if he's out there"

"… Yeah. Guess so"

The haunted hollow was awfully dark and with all the strange silouettes of branches moving in the breeze, Ben had some strange urge to squeeze Douglas's hand for comfort. Instead, he made his way to his tent, and fumbled about in the darkness for his pyjamas.

"Night, Douglas"

"Goodnight Ben"

The Brummie lay awake for a few minutes longer, trying to sleep. Just as he was beginning to drift, he heard something outside. His eyes shot back open. There it was again. A low, unnervingly human sounding groaning. Ben held his breath, praying it was just the wind. The disembodied voice began to groan again, and this time Ben heard something very worrying indeed.

"Awe shit, it knows my name"

Ben jumped out of his sleeping bag and unzipped the tent, looking around him in the dark for any ectoplasmic activity. Just darkness. Unnerving, never ending, downright spooky darkness. He turned back to the tents, but did not move towards his own this time.

"Douglas? Psst- Dougie?"

"Nng?"

A dark shape rose from the back of the tent.

"What is it man?"

"I um. Well it's not that I'm SCARED but … well there's some unusual activity out here and I figured - you know - if it's a wild animal or something we'd probably be better off facing it together, right?"

Ben couldn't see the Scotsman's face in the gloom, but he could imagine the grin plastered on it.

"Ye mean ye wanna come in? Might be a wee bit snug"

"Uhh … well I'll just stick to one side. Let me grab my sleeping bag"

"And yer teddy"

"What? I don't have a teddy"

"Shame" Douglas shuffled about under his bag and held up something the other could only see the vaguest silhouette of "Ah thought he could be friends with Nessie"

Ben shook his head in bemusement, but disappeared momentarily from the gap of the tent. A couple of seconds later he reappeared, throwing his sleeping bag and pillow onto one side and crawling in, zipping up the tent behind him. He made himself as comfortable as possible whilst being aware of the sheer proximity to Douglas, who he could hear breathing softly to his left.

"N-night, again, Dougie"

"G'night Benny"

And for the rest of the night, Ben felt safer.

The next morning, the clay twin awoke feeling well rested. He hadn't been haunted too much since switching tents, and as far as he was concerned, this meant he'd won the dare. He rolled over in his sleeping bag, intending to get up quickly to get changed. Douglas was still asleep next to him, and looked strangely more vulnerable in this state. Ben remembered thinking how imposing the scots could look when they wanted to, but asleep he was almost … cute. Not that Ben ever let such thoughts cross his mind without scolding himself for it, he wasn't some kind of weird sap like Bill. Still, Douglas was pretty sweet to him, and Ben had certainly felt a lot better for having him around.

The scot too began to stretch as he woke up, and the first thing he did was smile at his friend.

"Mornin' man – any ghostly stationmaster's come in with us?"

Ben shook his head.

"No, I SWEAR I heard someone say my name last night – maybe it was the whiskey"

They were just cleaning up breakfast when two other engines pulled onto the siding near their camp, and both of their respective twins jumped out.

"Well Ben, you did it! I guess you won the dare"

"Mornin' Dougie – ye been keeping wee Ben out of trouble alright?"

"Nae, he's been getting me into it"

The four of them sat around a newly lit campfire as Ben and Douglas recounted their individual ghost stories from the night before, and Bill and Donald explained the plot to a rather fanatical movie they'd rented the night before.

"But ye didnae see the haunted station master?" Donald teased.

"No" Ben smirked "I thought I might have heard one at one point, but I knew that was silly. There's just no such thing as a ghostly stationmaster, what an idea"

"Actually" Bill smirked "I was the ghostly station master calling your name last night"

"You WHAT"

"It was all a practical joke" the number nine Scotsman grinned "Yer brother's idea"

"You mean you two – UGH" Ben hoped they'd only stopped by for the ghostly prank, and not to hear him letting his guard down in the middle of the forest, that would have been embarrassing.

Later that day, Ben ran back into Douglas as he was passing through Maron station on his way to Ulfstead Castle to drop off some cargo. The Scot gave him a small smile, and Ben couldn't help but think how silly he must have sounded from the night before. He slowed down a little and popped his head out of the cab door to call to the other driver.

"I still can't believe what our brother's did to me last night?"

"Aye" The number 10 driver shook his head "Scunners, both of em"

"You're telling me!"

Ben paused for a moment, but seen as no one was around, he decided to continue.

"But erm … thank you, Douglas. For staying with me yesterday – and all those nice things you said and did. Er, yeah. Maybe it'd be fun to do it again sometime, just you know, not in the haunted part"

The Scotsman smiled warmly.

"Ah'd like that, Benny"

The Brummie's cheeks practically glowed pink as he chuffed away. The daylight made Sodor look really quite pretty this morning, and Ben had a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Now that he thought about it, that whiskey hadn't been too bad at all.