The Last Stop

1. The End

It was dark. Almost everyone was asleep, or wishing to be. The sun still had not begun to rise over the buildings of the big city, and darkness shrouded everything. It was a cold autumn night, and droplets of water had settled everywhere. Somewhere in the distance, a train driver prepared to carry a few sleeping travellers to their destinations.

It was dark. Almost everyone was asleep, or wishing to be. The sun had just begun to rise over the buildings of the small city, and its cold rays were still not enough to illuminate and bring light. It was a cold autumn dawn, and droplets of water had settled everywhere. Somewhere in the distance a train whistle blew, and somewhere in the shadows someone smiled. It was time.

The train driver reached a small towns train station. He remembered when many trains stopped there, even important ones, but that stop had been cancelled for most faster trains except his, leaving only the slowest to stop there.

Somewhere along the rails, well after the platforms length, someone smiled. It was time.

The train driver sleepily pulled out of the station, just like every day. The sun was finally beginning to illuminate the tracks, but the days were getting longer, and the train driver knew that in a few weeks that area would still not be illuminated. He feared that time of the year most, ever since that winter of four years ago. Nothing would remove that small yet scary thud and the images afterwards from his mind.

Somewhere on the rails, right in front of the train, someone turned and smiled. It was time.

The train driver was shaken from his memories by something very strange: a silhouette of a human, right in front of the train. The poor man tried to pull the brakes, but it was all for naught. Just for an instant, the sun's cold rays lingered over the person standing on the tracks.

Then the train hit.