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Thread: TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

  1. #1
    Shankbot de Bodemloze's Avatar From the Writers Study!
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    Default TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

    The Passenger


    5 Keywords:
    Train
    Winding
    Ride
    Space
    Subway

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  2. #2

    Default Re: TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

    WC: 498

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Can't think. Body numb. Heart throbbing, pounding inside my chest. A bullet whizzes over the top of the crate I'm crouched behind, clinging to my side where I have been stabbed. I don't know who is after me, but the events of last night stirred something up. The blood on my hand let me know that my normal life was over. I was part of something sinister now. The train blows its horn as it speeds past a small station. They control the train. Pain. More gunshots. Time and space beginning to blur. I had to make a move, or I would bleed out. I get in position and make a dive for the cluster of barrels on the other side of the car. A clear shot at a startled gunman. One bullet, simple and clean, to the head. Years of practice at the range taking their toll. With him dead, and the man who had stabbed me falling down the winding paths of the mountainside, I was at last alone in the car. I eagerly run over the the body to gather cloth to wrap around my wound, as well as making sure to take the dead man's gun. I didn't know the maker, but it was a beautiful gun. Would it serve me better than its old master?

    I decide that staying on this wild ride is too much danger for one day. After a few minutes the whistle blows once again, letting me know it is time to jump at the station. My timing is good, and I fall into a snow bank a hundred feet shy of the concrete. I can see no one at the station, waiting for either me or the armed thugs. The train continues on. Some service, I should've taken the subway to Carlton. Then again, my attackers had to be after me, and there was nowhere to jump out at in those old underground tunnels. The town that I walk into is called Dunesbury; a strange name for a little town situated on the side of a snowy mountain. It is named after an explorer, no doubt. Still nobody comes to greet me. My dress is ill suited to the temperature, and I begin to grow faint once more. At last I see the sign of a hotel, and manage to stumble up the front steps into the lobby before collapsing.

    I wake in a small bed with light blue bedsheets over my freezing body. As I come to my hands feel my body over, finding where my wound had been the last time I was conscious, and where I now found proper bandages. The cut is not too deep, but in the heat of the moment I had not been able to take a good look at it. My eyes search the room for any clues as to my situation, only to find a pair of soft green eyes staring at me from a head to my right.
    Last edited by Confederate Jeb; October 18, 2012 at 11:21 PM.

  3. #3
    Ybbon's Avatar The Way of the Buffalo
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    Default Re: TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

    Infracted, oops, I mean reserved!

    I have no idea where this "happy" tale came from!

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

    The Passenger

    I am the passenger and I ride these steel rails every day, I am the ghost of every victim of the killers who stalk these lonely tracks hunting down their victim's young and old. I haunt these carriages looking for the signs they show searching the faces of these men, and they are nearly always men, scrutinising them for the look they all have in their eye that tells of their inhuman desires. I am Ethel, killed for a simple locket in 1919, travelling to see my husband returned from the hell of the trenches to find the hell of a murdered wife. I am little Toby Fletcher, clutching my teddy bear by one hand and wearing an oh so adorable duffel coat – savaged, raped and killed by Bobby Clark because he just liked little boys in ways that mocked life itself.

    Janet, Jane, John, Mabel, Josh, Miranda, Charlotte, enough names to fill the whole of this train, and which one I am today it matters not as I ride these rails winding through hills and crossing bridges, leaping roaring torrents and deep gorges over arches and under mountains. Watching and waiting for the man to make his move towards the pretty blonde haired woman in the corner, or maybe the little girl with her head hidden, absorbed in her book or is it an iPhone? – reading, texting, not seeing the way he watches her every move, greedily drinking her in and plotting how he can have her all to himself, waiting for the tunnel and the moment he needs to grab his prey.

    I am watching, walking the train carriage or the subway car, over ground or underground it makes no difference to me, hunting the hunters, stalking the stalkers. Maybe it is the meshing of all those murdered souls, all the screaming and terror mingling into one, but now that I have corporeal form I can reap some measure of vengeance of those who died lonely, lost and terrified as the rails beneath counted the miles away and their life ebbed away. For each one that dies the stronger I get and I am coming for you. My revenge will be swift and my justice final with no second chances and no lawyers with technicalities, no judges with soft hearts. Dead is dead.

    I am the ghost haunting and hunting, chasing all of those killers down for their last reckoning, their own personal Armageddon and one-way trip to meet whatever waits in the Hell they are destined for. Straight to Hell Boys so make some room, leave some space because Bobby Clark, you are first on my list.


    w.c. 441
    Last edited by Ybbon; October 19, 2012 at 04:15 PM.

  4. #4

    Default Re: TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

    WC: 497 At one point it was actually 500 :O But I just had to ruin it....


    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Ah fudge - late for the train once again. I’ll have to wait in the subway for another 15 minutes amongst all those people only to finally ride to work, while having barely any space to breathe. Not only that but I’ll obviously be late for work as well and will get scolded for another 15 minutes by my superiors and as a punishment I’ll end up winding up watches so that I would “learn to manage my time and wouldn’t be late anymore”. It’s about time to search for a new workplace.

    But even knowing all that -here I am, waiting for the train to arrive, while forced to listen to people talking about nonsense, music being played way too loudly and oh, look at that – some lad being bullied by a group of delinquents and his loud cries for help.

    Help? YOU? Would you help someone in the same position? NO. You would walk away with your head tucked in, avoiding any eye contact and happy that you managed to NOT get in any trouble this time. So NO, I will NOT help you. There is no place for heroism in this world.

    Thus I continued to wait for the train to arrive while looking in front of me without any particular reason – only to be interrupted by someone roughly shoving his way towards the end of the platform and falling on the tracks, forcing me to step aside and observe.

    It was the previously bullied lad, thrown down there by the delinquents, who laughed loudly at their piece of work, like they did some praise worthy act, their faces filled with happy and quite stupid smiles.

    And the lad? His foot got caught under a rail and he was in too much of a panic to break it free, desperately pulling on it over and over again.

    So here I am, helping him get his bloody foot unstuck while the train is just around the corner. Not only that - the crowd behind me was filled with smart-asses who decided it’s better to shout “hurry up!’ instead of actually coming down and helping. Genius.

    If only the delinquents wouldn’t have ordered me NOT to help the victim. They just had to hit my weakness – the need to do the opposite of what I’m told.

    And so the foot is free and I’m helping the lad get on the platform, with the train already visible. But what kind of thanks do I get for my help? A kick at my chest by the same person I just saved, since he must have reached an even higher level of panic after hearing how close the train was.

    Thus astonished by how things turned out, seconds away from being splattered all over the front of the incoming threat, I give a little goodbye present to the crowd in front of me – my middle finger.

    Dying is easy, living is hard.
    Last edited by algirdasu; October 19, 2012 at 02:32 AM.

  5. #5

    Default Re: TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

    WC: 436, It is my first one here...good reading to all of you Hope you like it (Y)

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Tuesday 27th October,

    It was a very strange morning for me...although it all started innocently enough. In the morning, when I was at Glasgow subway waiting for the train and had arranged to go Edinburgh. So I arrived about 30 minutes earlier than train´s departion. It gave me time to think over my things in open space where possibly I had reached...then yet I didn´t see the reason to be happy about myself...I knew something was missing from my life...this was something, what really had me winding up for months now.

    Then my train arrived...and with that shut my thoughts. It took a few hours to get to Edinburgh, where I had to meet my contact. Before arriving in Edinburgh, I met a strange man during travelling, who presented him as Peter Schmidt. Didn´t know, was he German or not, nor didn´t had guts to ask it from him. He talked silently and said to me: "Isaac Newton is on this train, what a honour! Want to see him? I know which cabin he is.", first I thought, I had heard really wrong, but after few seconds of quick thinking, my ears weren´t wrong and I answered: "Pardon me dear sir, but I think you´re confusing Newton with someone else...you see Newton is dead.", but he didn´t seem to understand me..."YOU´RE WRONG!!! HE is alive, I know it!! How do you dare to say such a thing!!?" So I got real angry - "YES, DEAR SIR, I do dare say such a thing!! Isaac Newton was alive 250 years ago, but not today...It seems that you are a madman! Goodbye, dear sir!!" And I left...soon enough Edinburgh reached to my eyes...

    and so did my ride, which took me to City Council, where I had arranged a meeting with city officials. Suddenly, the same strange man had appeared there as well from nowhere, and that made me really nervous. We stared at each other, eyes on fire and we both were ready to insult each other like devils in furnace...if I had heard again that Newton is alive...I got out of control and punched him at least 10 times...that is why I had hard morning...probably will be rest of the day, I am anyways in jail for the moment...looks like there is no escape from the court now, because I am not able to apologize to him...now I try to calm and think, what to do...

  6. #6
    Derpy Hooves's Avatar Bombs for Muffins
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    Default Re: TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

    What is this post? A miserable pile of reserved! But enough talk, have at you!

    And yes I am working and planning on finishing it. I plan on being done with it sometime around 11am EST

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

    After presenting his ticket to the ticket master, the old man walked down the winding stairs. Dressed as he was in fine black silk suit, red tie, white buttondown and khakis, one might mistake him for any old businessman, albeit with gray hair. However, he was in fact the representative of the Noobean territories for the GGC (Gaiishan Global Council). Some might think since his territory is part of the Immortal Empire he should not have a seat, but if that was the case there would only be two representatives at the GGC.

    At the bottom of the stairs was the entrance to the space elevator, he had arrived just in time. He quickly moved into the elevator. Walking into the passenger room, the old man was astonished to see that it was not full, but neither was it empty. The room was semicircular shaped. Counting how many seats there were, the old man guessed that the elevator could comfortably accommodate a few dozen passengers. The floor was carpeted with a traditional pattern, one might find on the floor of a plane. The walls were a stained bone white. The seats themselves looked like booth seats from a train.

    Suddenly a bright female voice cried out of the loudspeaker, “All passengers, find yourselves a seat. The elevator will be departing for Theodoricopolis shortly.”

    The old man took several steps, and decided to sit across from a man who had his face almost completely covered. The man was dressed in a leather coat, black jeans, dark sunglasses and a gray fedora.

    “Do you mind if I sit here?” asked the old man.

    “Not at all,” the other man said. As the old man sat down the man across continued “It’s a shame that there are no windows. No way to see the fire, orange and yellow lights from the station.”

    The man's statement confused the old man, what lights was this man talking about? Why would he discuss it now anyways? Surely he had already thought of that on his ride up. Whatever, it’s not like it matters or anything the old man thought. Instead, the old man decided to go for a different conversational topic. “You know this elevator is really incredible. You know, it is one of the few transportation devices not conceived or built in war. The train and the automobile were invented in the same war, the Westmark Civil War. Even the subway was built, no, conceived during war.”

    “Oh? And which war was that?” inquired the man.

    “The Second, and hopefully last Regio-Janako War.”

    “What makes you think there will not be a Third Regio-Janako War?”

    “Well considering both of their histories, I would not be surprised if there were a dozen more Regio-Janako Wars,” the old man disappointingly said.

    Suddenly, the elevator car started shaking. “What in the gods’ names was that?” the old man asked.

    The man across from him offered a short reply, “It has begun.”
    Last edited by Derpy Hooves; October 21, 2012 at 10:27 AM.



  7. #7

    Default Re: TotW 162: The Passenger - SUBMISSIONS

    497.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The Passenger

    It had been a long day at the office, and I hurried through dark and deserted streets to catch the last train home. The entrance to the subway greeted me with the cold glare of neon lights. I bolted down the stairs and through corridor after corridor winding through the bowels of the city, the hollow sound of my footsteps reflecting from the walls. I made it to the train just in time. I was alone for the ride, the only passenger…



    … I must have dosed off, as I awakened with a start, at first confused as to where I was. Then I realised a man was sitting opposite me. He looked vaguely familiar, and I asked,

    “Do I know you?”

    “I was going to ask you exactly the same question”, he returned.

    It suddenly occurred to me that I might have missed my station. I looked at my watch, and the man said,

    “Is it important whether you have missed your station? Only if you really wanted to get off there. So think about that beforehand. Did you want to get off?”

    I hesitated, confused, answering, “Is there a choice? I am going home. I have to eat, I have to go to sleep. How else am I to continue my life?”

    “What if you had already missed your station?”

    “Well”, I said, “I would get off at the next station and go back.”

    “What if there was no next station? What if there was no going back? Imagine this train not travelling through a tunnel under the city anymore. Imagine it has somehow left the tunnel and is now travelling through space. Forever. It will never stop again. Outside, countless stars are shining in eternal blackness. You are the only passenger. There are no more obligations, no more appointments, no expectations on you on behalf of anyone. There is no tomorrow. Just you and the stars. Forever. Would you be happy?”

    I tried to imagine what this would be like. “Forever”, I repeated in a murmur, “It will never stop again. Outside, countless stars are shining in eternal blackness…”

    Suddenly, the lights went out, and all was dark. Just a power shortage, I thought. A faint glimmer was still coming from the outside, from the tunnel. It slowly dawned on me that it came from tiny little specks of light. I saw hundreds, then thousands, and then millions. I looked at the dim outline of the man opposite me and asked,

    “Who are you?”

    And the man asked, “Who are you?”

    I asked, “Don’t you know?”

    And the man asked, “Don’t you know?”

    And I realized I was not looking at another man, but a dim reflection of myself in the window. Outside, countless stars were shining in eternal blackness. I was the only passenger. There were no more obligations, no more appointments, no expectations on me on behalf of anyone. There was no tomorrow. Just me and the stars. Forever.
    Last edited by Strengelicher; October 21, 2012 at 04:57 PM.

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