This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/chootiepatootie on 2024-10-18 02:58:51+00:00.


I work the late shift at a small convenience store near the train station. It’s a quiet job, mostly just stocking shelves and occasionally chatting with customers. But every night, right around closing time, I get a regular who makes my skin crawl.

He’s an older man, disheveled, with a long trench coat that seems too big for him. He shuffles in just before midnight, mumbling to himself. I know I should call the cops on him, but he never causes any trouble—just buys a pack of gum and leaves.

Last Thursday, as I was ringing him up, he paused and looked at me with wide, sunken eyes. “You hear the train, don’t you?” he said, his voice a raspy whisper.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I replied, trying to keep it casual. “It’s pretty loud.”

“No,” he insisted, leaning closer. “Not the train. The last train. It’s calling for you.”

I chuckled nervously, not wanting to engage too much. “Yeah, well, I have to get going soon.”

But he just stared at me, and I could feel a cold sweat creeping down my back. “You need to be careful. It’s not what it seems.”

He left without another word, and I tried to shake it off, but his warning echoed in my mind. After closing the store, I walked to the platform to catch the last train home. It was already late, and the streets were eerily quiet.

When I got to the platform, the lights flickered. I waited alone, listening to the distant rumble of the train approaching. But as the train pulled in, something felt off.

The train was empty, the seats eerily clean, not a single passenger in sight. I hesitated but figured I’d just ride it home. As I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me with a deafening clang.

I sat down, looking out the window as the train began to move. The conductor’s voice crackled over the intercom: “Next stop, nowhere.”

Panic surged through me. What did he mean? I pulled out my phone, but there was no service. The train rattled along the tracks, and I tried to convince myself it was just a malfunction.

Then I noticed the lights flickering again. It wasn’t the train’s lights this time; it was something outside the window. Shadows darted past, almost too fast to see. I pressed my face against the glass, heart racing.

That’s when I saw them. Figures, dark and featureless, standing by the tracks, watching the train go by. They were everywhere, lined up as far as I could see. I felt their gaze pierce through me, freezing my blood.

I stood up and banged on the door, desperate to get out, but it was locked tight. “Let me out! Let me out!” I screamed, but the train just kept speeding along.

The conductor’s voice echoed again, “The last train always takes its passengers.”

My heart sank. I remembered the man from the store, his words replaying in my mind. I stumbled back to my seat, overwhelmed by dread. As I sat there, the train slowed to a stop, and the lights went out completely.

In the darkness, I heard whispers surrounding me, a cacophony of voices. “Join us. Stay with us.”

I felt a cold breath on my neck, and I whipped around, but there was nothing there. The door suddenly swung open, revealing a long, dark tunnel ahead.

Something in me snapped. I bolted for the door, leaping off the train just before it disappeared into the darkness. I landed on the ground hard, rolling to my feet and sprinting away from the tracks.

I didn’t stop running until I reached the safety of the convenience store. I locked the door behind me and collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

Now, every night, I wait for the old man to show up again, hoping he’ll give me some answers. The last train has become my nightmare, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s still out there, waiting for me to return.

If you’re ever near a train station at midnight, heed my warning: Don’t take the last train home.