It was now exactly seven fifteen, and that moment the train rushed by until it finally came to a halt. The doors opened with a slight creak. I entered the cabin nearest to the driver and took a seat. The train moved off again as the doors closed behind me.
The atmosphere was very hot and humid; this made me take off my pullover. There was one passenger in the cabin. He had a funny-shaped nose, was pretty tall but his face was hidden behind an old fashioned hat. He was dressed formally: with a black suit; a red striped tie which stood out like a sore thumb and black leather shoes which looked striking.
We approached the next station – Green Hill. The passenger looked like he was getting off; he stood up and advanced towards the doors nearest to him. As the doors opened the gentlemen turned around at me and gave me a grin – an evil grin. Simultaneously he stepped out of the train and walked off hurriedly. Immediately, the doors closed and the train was off again.
Two more stops till Scarborough, I thought. The train moved calmly and swiftly through the tunnels. The train looked dark and evil and didn’t give out much light at all. This made the shadows more lively and energetic, as you could see them moving in and out of the cabins.
The journey seemed to take forever; one hour passed, two hours passed. I was starting to get a bit worried as the train should have been reached the next station by now. My eyelids were starting to get heavy, and I finally went off to sleep…
I woke up suddenly, trying to remember where I was. I then recalled where I was – on the train to Scarborough. Then, many things happened all at once: the lights went off; the train had come to a complete standstill; the doors opened with a bang and there was a sudden gust of wind – a ghostly kind of wind. I just stood there waiting for something else to happen but nothing did happen. I stepped out of the train to see where I was, but there was complete darkness. I couldn’t even see my own hand. The darkness made me shiver, not knowing what to do I returned to the train.
I advanced towards the driver’s cabin and tried the door, fortunately it was unlocked. I stepped in to the cabin glanced at the driver and gasped! His face was red and swollen – and covered with fleas. Angry red blotches swelled on his forehead – raw fresh flea bites. I raised my eyes to his hair and shrieked. His hair was moving! His hair was alive with fleas. The fleas were nesting into his scalp. I watched in horror as a flea leaped onto his nose. It started to gnaw at it deeper and deeper until a thin stream of blood trickle down his cheek.
Before I could move, the driver jumped from his seat. He reached out for me with his black-gloved hands. No, they weren’t gloves they were black with swarming fleas!
“Going to Scarborough?”, He snarled
