The signalman at Knapford woke up feeling unwell. He still tried to work, but after accidentally diverting the express onto the down line, he collapsed and went unconscious. The Fat Director came to see Noah.

"Knapford's signalman, John Dickens, has reported sick: he fainted under mysterious circumstances. Therefore, I'd like you to take over for him until he either gets better or another replacement is found."

"Of course sir, but what about this signal box?" asked Noah.

"An assistant signalman will man it," the Fat Director answered. "Hopefully, none of the other signalmen at Knapford are ill as well: it wouldn't do to have you man the signal box all day."

"Indeed not," agreed Noah.

When he arrived, he saw something strange. The signal box stank, and it looked abandoned.

"That's funny: there's no way a signal box still in use can look like that," remarked Noah. "And I assume that smell is due to a skunk."

Walking inside, he noticed something red covering the levers. At first, he assumed they were just locks. Except it didn't look like a signal lock: it seemed to be more like some kind of liquid. He touched one of the levers and found the liquid was…sticky.

"Blood…" Noah hated blood. It reminded him of the monster he truly was. The surrendering soldiers he'd shot as they begged for mercy. Not all of them did, but those that begged… "God, why did I do that? What sort of monster am I? Maybe I should end it all right here…No, that would be wrong: I have a brother and will one day have nephews and nieces who will need me. I must stay alive, I must stay strong, I must…OW!"

He paused his speech when he felt something bite his neck. He felt it, and was surprised to feel that it was like that of a human.

"Vampire? No, there is no such thing as a Vampire…"

As he turned around, he thought he saw a woman who looked familiar. She vanished before he could get a good look.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

As Noah walked around, trying to figure out what had happened, the bell from the previous signal box rang twice, informing him of a train entering his section. As he accepted it, he noticed someone on the track.

"Who is that man? And why is he standing there?"

As Henry approached, Noah began to panic.

"Clear the track! For God's sake, clear the track!"

The man didn't do anything, but Henry did.

"Driver, stop, there's somebody on the line!"

The driver slammed the brakes, but there wasn't enough time. Henry closed his eyes, embracing for the impact. Suddenly…nothing! He had just stopped, and felt nothing hit his buffers!

"This makes no sense: he was standing there, I saw! How could I not feel him?!" Henry asked in panic.

"Maybe he managed to jump out of the way," suggested the driver.

"No, he's the ghost! I'm lost! He's got me! I swear, he's got me!"

"Calm down, Henry!" soothed the driver.

"Don't tell me to be calm, you idiot! The ghost will possess me for sure! I know it!"

"If you were possessed," the fireman pointed out, "you wouldn't be screaming right now: those who are possessed speak with the voice of the possessor."

Henry tried to answer, but came up with nothing.

"Let's continue our journey. We're running late as is," said the driver. They did so, though Henry still felt worried. Noah, on the other hand, stared at the scene in complete confusion. How could a man simply disappear like that? Was it the ghost that was being talked about, or just imagination?

Henry didn't stop shaking until they reached Tidmouth, and even then, his crew could tell he wasn't fully in spirit. He decided Henry needed a nice drink to calm his nerves. The Hybrid felt better, but still couldn't help but feel a little nervous.

Some minutes later, Dante arrived with the 12 AM midnight express, having somehow been the only engine available to do so. The run had gone without a hitch, but something felt off to his crew.

"What is up with you, brother?" inquired Dante. "You don't seem to be your usual selves."

"You should feel on edge too," said his driver. "This ghost has been haunting us since this month began and it's been three weeks now."

"Ghost? Pah! There's no such thing," snorted Dante. "This is a lovely July night… What day was it?"

"July 19, why do you ask?"

"Uh, no reason driver," said Dante.

Later, as he prepared for the return journey, Dante's brakes froze.

"That's odd: surely, it's too hot for brakes to freeze," Dante remarked.

It became weirder, as the ice didn't thaw, no matter how many buckets of hot water were thrown at Dante's brakes. Henry had to be called to take his return train.

It was around 3 AM when the train departed. Henry felt nervous as he travelled along the line.

Up ahead, a green signal led into a deathtrap: the signalman who'd fallen ill stood in the middle of the tunnel. Henry began whistling frantically!

"Get out of the way!" he called. The signalman only stared at him. Henry braked with all his might but there was no stopping what happened next: Henry felt the body of the signalman being thrown under his wheels, where his weight reduced the poor man to pieces of body parts.

Henry stopped around 50 metres later, in the platform. He was hyperventilating.

"Everything ok, Henry?" asked TKE #2.

"I think…I ran…"

"Ran what? A red signal? There were no other trains here before you."

"Not a red signal," Henry said. "Something worse."

The Coffee Pot took a look at Henry: there was something red covering his buffers, darker than his bufferbeam.

TKE #2 was horrified as she slowly understood what happened.

"Did you…kill somebody?"

Henry's stare told her all. He began to cry.

"I'm…I'm sorry that happened," she said.

"Why are you sorry? You're not the one who ran him over!" Henry shouted. "It's me who should be sorry!"

All TKE #2 could do was stare, unsure what she could say. It took a while to console Henry enough to get moving again.

Next morning, an investigation was launched into the accident. Henry was brutally cross-examined, much to his discomfort. Eventually, he started crying, and the Fat Director had to shoo the investigators away.

"You are making a mistake, Topham! Why are you protecting this machine?" asked an investigator.

"Can you NOT see how upset Henry is?" the Fat Director retorted. "He's already feeling guilty-enough, he doesn't need hardcore investigators like you making things worse."

"I'm doing what is necessary," said the investigator.

Eventually, Henry was declared innocent when the Fat Director pointed out engines can't control when they stop. Even so, Henry still felt guilty.

"How can I be innocent?" Henry asked. "I ran him over! I…"

"Henry, you didn't make him stand on the track," said the Fat Director kindly. "He chose to stand there for whatever reason we'll never know. It wasn't your fault and never will be."

The Fat Director walked away.

Later, everyone was arguing about how to deal with the ghost.

"I'm telling you," said 98462, "the only way to get rid of a ghost is to get rid of where they're haunting. We must destroy the tunnels surrounding Knapford!"

"And what good will that do?" asked Edward. "Petunia spotted this ghost around Kellsthorpe Road."

"Besides," put in Lily, "if we destroy the Crosby and Tidmouth tunnels, we will have to rebuild them to continue operations. Besides, at least one of those tunnels may have a house or two above them."

"Then relocate the houses to another area!" 98462 said.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to move houses?" asked Edward.

"The inhabitants can be relocated," added Emily, "but it could be expensive. And where would they move to?"

"Alright, I get it!" " shouted 98462. "Well what else can we do?"

Selena spoke up.

"Maybe we can suck it into a vacuum cleaner," she said.

98462 burst out laughing.

"And where would we get a vacuum we can lift up into the air?" he asked. "Admit it: they're way too heavy for a person to do that."

"Well excuse me for making a suggestion," snorted Selena.

While this had been going on, Noah continued his work as usual. It was still very busy, but Henry's accidental murder did have him on edge.

"He's coming for me… Well, he won't have it easy. Only question is how to stop him: he's not physical like the Germans, so I can't use violence or guns. Perhaps I can use light…won't be enough of it to illuminate the tunnels. Besides, he can teleport to other parts of the island. Man, who knew trying to defeat a supernatural enemy would be so hard?"

He then looked out the window and saw a church nearby. Deciding they might have the solution, he telephoned the Fat Director and asked him to provide a temporary replacement, explaining why when he did so. Once a replacement was found, he immediately left his post and went over to the church.

Upon entering, he went up to the altar, where a priest stood.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Hi, I'm in need of holy water," said Noah. "There's a ghost haunting the Tidmouth Tunnel that needs to be dealt with."

"And what makes you think holy water is the answer?" asked the priest.

"You got any better ideas on getting rid of a ghost?" Noah asked in reply.

"An exorcism."

"This is a ghost we're dealing with, not a devil," Noah pointed out. "I don't see how an exorcism can banish a ghost."

"It still won't hurt to try," said the priest. "Besides, if you just use holy water, it'll take more than I have with me."

"Alright, fine," said Noah. "Come on, I'll lead the way."

The current plan was to attempt to make the ghost pass on to the afterlife. Nothing guaranteed it would be easy, but they had to at least try.

Noah led the priest and a few others down to Tidmouth Tunnel. The icy wind returned, and they all braced themselves for the ghost. At last, it formed in front of them.

"Who dares to disturb me? What's this? The Church? How pathetic: your lives are all wasted."

"Evil spirit! Begone!" shouted a priest.

Nothing happened. The ghost began to laugh.

"Do I look like a demon to you? I'm no demon, and I'll stay until the railway is gone, there ain't nothing you can do to stop me!"

"We'll see about that," said the lead priest, holding up a cross. The others followed suit and all began chanting.

"The power of Jesus compels you!"

They chanted over and over again.

The ghost was affected by that. His shape flickered repeatedly. The icy wind stopped.

"No. Stop! STOP!" he pleaded. They didn't stop of course, but it would soon be over: as the ghost fell to the ground in pain, Noah grabbed the chalice and poured it over the ghost. The ghost roared in pain, and began to slowly vanish. At last, it was gone.

"Well, that went better than I thought it would," said Noah.

"We're not done yet," said a priest. "His corpse is the physical attachment that didn't allow him to pass on. We must find it and burn it, then give the man a funeral."

The party had to convince the Fat Director to allow the tunnel to be excavated, but after getting it, it took only three hours to find the corpse. Decayed and nearly completely rotten, all that remained were overalls and a skeleton.

The skeleton was burned nearby, and the ashes put into a coffin, which was then buried. As nobody knew the name of this man, his grave was simply titled, "The Unknown Worker".

"What do you suppose will happen now?" asked Noah.

"Perhaps he'll finally do the honourable thing and move on," said the Fat Director. "Whatever the case, he's not welcome on my railway."

The ghost never returned, or at the very least, he stopped haunting others. However, to this day, some people say the icy wind can be felt every year in early July. And that when this icy wind blows, the same ghost can be seen standing above the Tidmouth Tunnel peering down at the passing trains. I wonder if these people are right, don't you?