Sodor is, never was and never will be always so happy all the time. Some of the more darker chapters have remained untold in both the Railway Series and the TV Series, until now. This story you are about to read will hopefully explore and offer insight into the psychology and souls of those involved.
A story of verbal and mental abuse, a vendetta out of favoritism, and pangs of conscience - and how engines express them. Please keep in mind that these might not end well for the parties concerned in this story. One may be saddened, angered, offended, or a mixture of the three by the time this ends.
I beseech you - read with discretion...
The Author
Summer had come to the Island of Sodor, and the trains had started to get crowded more and more with holiday makers wanting to see the many sights the island had to offer.
Some wanted to go to the mountains, and others rather liked the valleys, while children enjoyed the seaside.
One afternoon, Thomas brought Annie and Clarabel to Tidmouth where Gordon, Emily and Rosie were talking.
"I don't mind taking the express, but the amount of coaches and holiday makers cramming into them are running my wheels down." panted Gordon.
"To have an extra engine to help with the goods might not be a bad idea either." sympathized Emily, who was due to take a mixed train to Norramby.
"Or three." muttered Rosie as she rolled her eyes. Thomas soon heard the commotion when the Fat Controller, Sir Richard Topham Hatt came out to them.
"Indeed you are all right," said the Fat Controller, "so that's why I am bringing two steam engines and a diesel to help. Make them feel welcome."
As he read the engine classes and numbers out to them, Thomas then saw that Rosie was now overcome with fear.
She uncoupled from her train and ran to the sheds.
"Thomas. Since Rosie has just unexpectedly left, please arrange the goods train for the midnight run to the mainland in her place." said the Fat Controller.
"Yes sir. I'll talk with Rosie about it when I'm done." he said bravely.
As he was shunting his coaches to the siding, Annie and Clarabel were concerned.
"What's gotten into Rosie, Thomas? It's not like her to be worried about an engine coming to help out here." asked Annie, flabbergasted at the scene before.
"It was about her classmate - an SR USA Class 0-6-0T number S100. From what I can tell firsthand, it may be some bad water, but who knows?" he mused as he uncoupled from his coaches on the siding.
Thomas then started shunting together the mix of open and closed wagons, vans, tankers, flatbeds and a brake van to make up the midnight goods train for the mainland.
Once it was arranged for Spencer to take, he headed off to the sheds at Knapford where Rosie was berthed.
Her face still looked like she had seen a ghost when Thomas arrived.
"I hope you appreciate me doing your work for you, Rosie. But don't let this kind of thing happen again if you can help it." grumbled Thomas firmly.
"Sorry, Thomas. It's just... I, uh..." muttered Rosie as she shivered again.
"Something's wrong, isn't it? Don't worry. You can tell me." Thomas came up into the shed berth next to Rosie as she began to explain what she felt.
"It's about the engine number S100 - an SR USA Class 0-6-0T. She's coming from the Kent and East Sussex Railway. Her name is Odessa - my sister." panted Rosie as she continued trying to wrap her smokebox around memories returning.
"Odessa? I thought her name and number were Maunsell and 22 of that railway." Thomas was confused. "Something happened between you two?"
"It's a long story." Rosie's face fell, and this is what happened long ago...
1945 - Towards the end of World War II, Odessa and I were serving the Allied Forces around Southampton and Sir John Moore Barracks around Winchester under General Dwight D. "Ike" Eisenhower and Field Marshall Bernard Law Montgomery.
Odessa was quite the slave driver and hair-trigger disciplinarian to not only me and the other engines; but also yelling at, berating and insulting the troops and commanding officers as well.
Nothing could ever seem to make her happy.
No matter how hard or how well I and the others did our jobs; and our superiors commended me, my sister seemed to have nothing to smile about.
One evening, during a celebration of the end of the war down in Southampton, one of the best soldiers - General Philip D. Elbright was celebrating with the troops when Odessa came looking more peeved than ever.
She had found something by one of her flatbeds.
"ALL RIGHT YOU SISSIFIED MAGGOT SCUM! WHICH ONE OF YOU LOONIES IS RESPONSIBLE FOR HAVING BROUGHT THESE IN MY PRESENCE?!" she bellowed to the troops and engines that were around her.
It seemed as though she wanted to take her anger out on me, when Elbright came and stepped forward.
"I BELIEVE THAT THAT WOULD BY THIS GENERAL'S DATE SCONE THE HEAD SHUNTER HAS THERE, ODESSA!" Elbright reported, trying to assert authority.
"DO REGULATIONS EVEN PERMIT ANYONE, INCLUDING COMMANDING OFFICERS BRINGING SUCH CONTRABAND IN MY PRESENCE?!" berated Odessa.
"THE HEAD SHUNTER, OF ALL ENGINES, MUST BE WILLING TO MAKE EXCEPTIONS FOR THE ONE IN CHARGE OF THE BASE!" Elbright was screwed.
"THAT IS IT, YOU SCUMBAGS! I HAVE FAILED THE ALLIED FORCES, AND THAT IS DUE TO YOU NOT HELPING ME! FOR EVEN THE COMMANDING OFFICERS WERE NOT FOLLOWING ORDERS OR REGULATIONS IN THIS CASE!" Odessa took any violation of regulations as a violent affront to her "disciplined way of life" as others called it.
"FROM NOW ON, WHENEVER ANY OFFICER OR ENGINE SCREWS UP AROUND ME - THE REST OF THE ENGINES AND OFFICERS WILL SUFFER!" She took the scone and shoved it into the General's mouth.
"GENERAL SNAFU, NIBBLE THAT SCONE CRUMB BY CRUMB UNTIL IT IS GONE! THE REST OF YOU MAGGOTS GIVE ME PUSH-UPS OR SHUNT THIS HARBOR AS LONG AS GENERAL SNAFU HAS A SCONE LEFT TO CONSUME!" she bellowed and left to report back to work.
As she left, I was shunting away when I then heard her muttering to herself.
"Someday, Rosie... I will make you suffer for what you did, bitch...". I was very confused as to what I did wrong.
Maybe Odessa had an unfavorite complex.
It was two days later, and I was drawing fire watch along the line from Winchester all down to Southampton Harbor.
I chuffed quietly towards a quay with rails sloping down right into the sea, and saw Elbright looking rather disturbed and holding what appeared to be a United States made M1 Garand .30 caliber rifle with a clip of two .30-06 Springfield bullet cartridges right by the barrel he was sitting.
I had heard rumors of a blanket party for Elbright - some men had taken their beds' blankets and put soap bars in them, using them as improvised flails on Elbright as a form of corporal punishment.
The troops were to be shipped back home the next day, and I heard a faint whistle coming from Winchester.
It seemed as if someone had snuck a rifle and some ammunition out of the storage rooms.
I had found who did that, and it was after lights out there and Elbright was A.W.O.L.
"Oh... h-h-hi... Rosie." shivered Elbright as he sat there, loading the clip into the rifle.
I shone my lamp on him, and started backing nervously away.
"General, are those... live rounds?" I knew that there would be big trouble with Odessa if she got wind of what was going on.
He finished inserting the clip.
"Point three-zero caliber over here. In the States... seven point six two millimeter. Full metal jacket." purred Elbright as he enunciated every word.
"Elbright, if Odessa gets wind of what is happening, we'll all be in a world of scrap and crap!" I whispered, trying not to wake the rest of the harbor.
"We are... in a world of crap... and scrap iron, aren't we? But I'm getting us all out of it - by removing both myself and Odessa from the equation."
"You don't seriously mean, sir?"
"Yep. But Rosie... you have quite possibly been the only friend or family I ever had. Don't give in to the darkness like I have been forced into now" he said.
I was worried that this would spiral out of control, but he was still kind to me.
All of a sudden, he started executing drills and reciting the Rifleman's Creed...
THIS IS MY RIFLE! THERE ARE MANY LIKE IT, BUT THIS ONE IS MINE!
MY RIFLE IS MY BEST FRIEND! IT IS MY LIFE! I MUST MASTER IT AS I MUST MASTER MY LIFE! MY RIFLE, WITHOUT ME, IS USELESS! WITHOUT MY RIFLE, I AM USELESS! I MUST FIRE MY RIFLE TRUE! I MUST SHOOT STRAIGHTER THAN MY ENEMY WHO IS TRYING TO KILL ME! I MUST SHOOT HIM BEFORE HE SHOOTS ME! I WILL...
MY RIFLE AND I KNOW THAT WHAT COUNTS IN WAR IS NOT THE ROUNDS WE FIRE, THE NOISE OF OUR BURST, NOR THE SMOKE WE MAKE! WE KNOW THAT IT IS THE HITS THAT COUNT! WE WILL HIT...
MY RIFLE IS HUMAN, EVEN AS I, BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE! THUS, I WILL LEARN IT AS A SIBLING! I WILL LEARN ITS WEAKNESSES, ITS STRENGTH, ITS PARTS, ITS ACCESSORIES, ITS SIGHTS AND ITS BARREL! I WILL KEEP MY RIFLE CLEAN AND READY, EVEN AS I AM CLEAN AND READY! WE WILL BECOME PART OF EACH OTHER! WE WILL...
BEFORE GOD, I SWEAR THIS CREED! MY RIFLE AND I ARE THE DEFENDERS OF MY COUNTRY! WE ARE THE MASTERS OF OUR ENEMY! WE ARE THE SAVIORS OF MY LIFE!
SO BE IT, UNTIL VICTORY IS AMERICA'S AND THERE IS NO ENEMY, BUT PEACE!
This noise woke up the rest of the harbor, and I then heard a familiar voice ordering the recruits at Winchester back to sleep and the engines to remain in their sheds.
We had been found out by Odessa, and she was livid with hate for us.
"WHAT IS THIS MICKEY MOUSE CRAP?! WHAT IN THE NAME OF JESUS H. CHRIST ARE YOU TWO SCRAP HEAPS DOING IN MY HARBOR?! ROSIE! WHY IS GENERAL SNAFU DOING OUT OF HIS POST - AWOL AFTER LIGHTS OUT?! WHY DOES HE HAVE THAT STOLEN RIFLE WITH HIM?! AND WHY AREN'T YOU STOMPING GENERAL SNAFU'S GUTS OUT?!" she screamed at us.
"ODESSA, MA'AM; IT IS THE APPRENTICE SHUNTER'S DUTY TO INFORM THE HEAD SHUNTER, THAT'S YOU MA'AM; THAT GENERAL ELBRIGHT HAS A FULL MAGAZINE FOR HIS RIFLE, LOCKED AND LOADED, MA'AM!" I reported.
And it was at that moment when I saw my sister's face turn pale with fear - her perfectly disciplined way of life had failed her, and she wanted to instantly make me the scapegoat.
But first, she intended to get the rifle out of Elbright's hands and then use it as an improvised dildo to perform a very lethal anal rape of the General.
I looked towards Elbright, who underneath his psychotic demeanor, still thought of me as a friend in need and winked.
"Don't worry. The suffering ends now." he appeared to be saying.
Odessa then turned to confront and order him around for what was the last time.
The word Snafu came from an acronym for Situation Normal All Fouled (Fucked) Up, and everything Elbright represented was fouling up Odessa's life in more ways than one - so she lashed out by calling him Snafu.
"Now you listen to me, General Snafu, and you listen good. You Will put that rifle down on the ground, and you Will step away from it." she ordered, firmly but much softer.
She knew she wanted to avoid something nasty, but she still wanted to lash out and put us all through a world of (s)crap once he did.
"Only after you get your buffers away from my only friend Rosie, you BITCH!" Elbright then roared as he pointed the rifle at Odessa.
It was becoming a yelling match, and Odessa had chuffed towards the quay sloping into the sea!
"AGH! I OUGHT TO RIP YOUR BALLS OFF AND STUFF THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT FOR THIS! WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION, NUMBNUTS?! DIDN'T MOMMY AND DADDY SHOW YOU ENOUGH ATTENTION WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD?!" she screeched, and those were her last words before Elbright had fired the bullet across her forehead and through her smokebox.
The force of the impact had made her lose control of her wheels as she backed right into the water of the harbor.
Splashing into the water, she screamed out "GODDAMN YOU, ROSIE!" as she hit the bottom.
Man had killed a machine, and the rest of the town was soon waking up and coming out. I tried to calm Elbright down.
"It's all over, sir. You're free at last." I soothed, but those were the last words he heard me say.
I shrieked a big 'no' in horror as he sat back on the barrel, put the gun to his mouth and shot his own brains out.
A murder-suicide, and I had been privy to it all.
I was then sent to work elsewhere, and I eventually had become a preserved engine working with Stepney the Bluebell Engine.
He and I got on well together, working with the Bluebell Railway in Sussex.
I was so happy to be working with him and glad that I did not have to experience the events of that night all over again I soon forgot them.
But as I was allowed on the main line every now and then, I once stopped by the Kent and East Sussex Railway with a train of repair supplies that I was asked to bring for repairing an engine.
When I got there, I saw an SR USA Class 0-6-0T with the number 22 and a new name being given to it - Maunsell.
I thought it was an old friend of mine, until I saw the bullet hole through the top of its smokebox door emerging through the rear top of the smokebox.
To my horror, the people there were restoring Odessa.
All the painful memories I thought to have been happily forgotten would be coming back to haunt me once again.
I delivered the parts and returned to the comfort of my Bluebell shed where Stepney was there to comfort me.
Sometimes I had to deliver parts and goods to the Kent and East Sussex, and I hoped not to run into Odessa ever again.
But on my last trip there, my luck ran out.
As I was leaving, she arrived with a tourist train and saw me.
She gasped and wanted to lunge.
"You!" we said together as I raced back towards the main line.
Even so, I heard her scream out "I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME, ROSIE YOU BITCH! EVEN IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!".
And ever since, she hunts me...
"Why bust my buffers! So she blames you for letting her nearly die back in 1945?" asked Thomas, sideswiped by Rosie's horrific story of torture and pains.
"But what I can't figure out is why she was never happy with me to begin with. And I fear that her presence here on Sodor may be a bad omen!" said Rosie as they saw Spencer rushing away along the main line with the midnight goods.
"The night is young, so I'll tell you what. Why not look after the goods on my branch line while we keep your sister away? You can sleep in my shed with Percy and Toby - up near Ffarquhar." Thomas wanted to help an engine in need.
"Thanks, Thomas. You always know how to make an engine feel better. I wish there were more of your kind in the world today." sighed Rosie, trying to sound respectful out of Thomas being the only one of the LB&SCR E2s left.
This managed to bring a small smile to Thomas' face, as Rosie truly cared for him.
In the meantime, Spencer was making good time when he passed three mysterious engines on the down track beside him as they rumbled over the Rolling Bridge just outside Vicarstown.
As he was approaching the yard to drop off the mixed goods train, he then felt his smokebox and boiler tighten up and start to fill with painful gases and solids.
Just as he sped by, an internal bang ripped him out cold...