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Mischa's grandfather was poor, but respected throughout the community as a hardworking man. He looked old and gray when he was young. Some say he worked himself to death. He had four children in his thirties and another on the way. It was difficult to care for four children, but he still loved them all. He was a normal hardworking man. Nobody in town knew what was going on in his mind. He kept a journal of his thoughts and feelings. He wrote new entries when a voice called out to him.
It spoke to me through the curtains. Beckoning me to go to the train tracks alone. It happened last week as well, but it was quieter, less intense. Last night it was more persistent. I believed it was my imagination, but it seems so real.
And it went;
"Follow me, follow me. Follow me, follow me"
Then it got louder.
"Follow me, follow me. I have something to show you
Eventually, people around town noticed his behavior was changing. He was absent from work for the first time in years. Grandma got a call from the pastor telling her that he husband was nowhere to be found. She ran to the church to find him, but he wasn’t there. He showed up three days later with no money and his shirt on backward. He had black and blue bruises on his body. He was sore for days and could barely move. He called out to his daughter, Tamara, and he told her “If you ever had a son, let him know that his grandad loves him, but by the time that he’s grown be sure this seed is sown deep down into his dome; don’t ever, ever walk to the train tracks alone.” With that, he got up like his injuries were healed, reached for his jacket, limped to the door, told her not to act up while he was gone, then left. Never to be seen again.
Fifteen years later she had a baby, Mischa, a boy who never knew his father or grandfather. His grandfather was known as a rambling man who worked himself to death and gave up when he reached his breaking point. When Mischa was a child, his mother told him stories. Most with the same message. “Never go to the train tracks alone.” He relished the stories. Excited to hear another one. But everything must come to an end and Mischa stopped caring about things. Only interested in loud rap artists and parties. Parties his mother didn’t want him to go to. He became rebellious. One day he left his mother to go to a party. His friends slipped something into his drink and deserted him. Left him abandoned in an alleyway. High out of his mind. He saw horrible monsters. His grandfather’s corpse. The small maggots covered his body. They writhed, squirmed, and ate his flesh and bone. His grandfather smiled at him and waved his hand. Maggots fell off, but they immediately climbed back onto his body. He wanted to vomit. The maggots slowly left him and crawled toward Mischa. The bugs covered his arm as he frantically tried to get them off. They swallowed his arm whole. Crawling around begging for more food. More flesh. He tried to imagine something else. Anything else? Anything would be better than this pain. He could hear his grandfather laughing. Laughing at his pain.
He blinked away the tears forming in his eyes and they were gone. The maggots disappeared, but he could still feel them skittering across his body.
He could hear voices in his head, mumbling, wanting him to go to the train tracks.
And so he did.
He wandered to the train tracks to ease his body off the drugs. He walked along the train tracks ignoring the tiny voice in his head telling him to run. Run home and don’t look back. He knew the stories his mother told him, but those were just stories. Stupid fables that weren’t real. The drugs had worn off a little bit, but he could still feel the woozy buzz coursing through his veins. He had to keep moving because if he sat still he would picture the maggots and feel them crawling on his body and eating his flesh. He walked until he saw a silhouette of a boy around his age. The boy's eyes were dark brown, he had black hair and fair skin. He smiled at Mischa. The smile was a bit uncanny, but it made Mischa’s cheeks feel warm. “It’s a nice night for a walk. Would ya mind if I joined you?” The boy looked him up and down, making Mischa even more nervous.
"Do what you wanna do.” Mischa tried to create an aloof aura
"Well, that's great, 'cause I'm going to.” A boy around his age walked along with him.
“And not to annoy you but, see, I really have to ask, what a young dude like you's doin' out by the tracks? You waitin' on a train?" The boy got closer. Maybe too close. He stared at Mischa with a toothy grin on his face. Mischa shuffled away from him.
"Nah, man, let me explain"
"Alright"
"I'm mindin' my business so maybe you should do the same. I've just been a witness to something sick and sadistic so twistedly disgusting you should feel real lucky you missed it"
"Ooh, but easy with the tongue. Try to listen carefully. What you've seen is scary, but nothing when compared to me. I could show you things to paint all your dreams haunted.” The boy stood in front of him. He grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. He could feel the boys' hot breath on his face.
“I could make you scream if I wanted,” Mischa swore he saw the boy's eyes turn red just for a split second.
“Or…” The boy let go of his collar and stepped back, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and pulling Mischa closer to his body. “I can be the bee in your bonnet, your best friend forever. Two peas in a pod flockin' like birds of a feather. And you never need to beg, work, or steal.”
“If all this sounds worth it, then let's make a deal.” The boy stopped and held his hand out, waiting for Mischa to shake it.”
“All you want in life for the price of your soul.”
He could have his grandfather back again. He didn’t have to deal with friends that would leave him stranded in an alleyway.
“All the money you can fold, the power that you can hold.” The boy moved in front of him pulling him closer by his collar. This time the boy wasn’t trying to conceal his shining, bright red eyes. The boy smiled. It should’ve creeped him out, but something about his toothy grin was strangely comforting, It was like this boy was his long-lost friend he hadn’t seen in years.
“I'll put you in control. Only if you're down to roll down these train tracks tonight"
"But where we gonna go?"
Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train
Looking down the road, ain't never gonna go back
Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop
Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight?
Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train
Looking down the road, ain't never gonna go back
Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop
Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight?