<div style="background-color:#050505; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="background-color:#101010; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><img alt="" src="http://i.imgur.com/PaHWVdl.png" style="float:right; padding:6px;"/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #7b2424"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: Pristina;"><span style="font-weight: bold">J A M I E</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #6b1f1f"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: Pristina;"><span style="font-weight: bold">Transcending life through death's decree.</span></span></span></span><span style="color: #101010">____________________</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #d6d6d6"><div style="text-indent:1em;">Jamie felt like he was lying on a bed of nails. If he had known a little more about the past few hours he may have even realized that this was not far from the truth. His eyes opened to blue velvet skies above him, stretching out as far as the horizon in all directions. He blinked once, twice and then he shook himself awake. Where the hell was he anyway? The last thing he could remember he was taking the train from work. That's right; he was on his way and the train was different. Everything seemed a little fuzzy and he was struggling to remember what exactly had happened. It was dark and the train was taking too long. Memories slowly coiled back into his cloudy mind as he concentrated as hard as he could. Like dust motes collecting in scant rays of light cutting abstract wounds into his memory things began to come together. The last thing he could actually remember were the teeth.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The teeth and those dancing lights.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">It wasn't until all these many minutes of recollecting himself passed before Jamie realized exactly what surrounded him besides the infinite expanse of starless sky above him. He was lying on his back on some sort of shore. Faintly, as if many miles away, he could hear the gentle lapping of waves breaking on the shoreline but when he sat up, the pitch black sea that produced the noises was no more than a few feet away from where he lay. The beach he lay on, from a distance, would have looked like a great white paint stroke of pristine white sand and at first Jamie thought the whiteness, which stood as a stark contrast to the rest of his surroundings, was sand himself. It was only the texture that gave away what he lay upon was anything but sand. It felt like pebbles or maybe small polished stones or sanded wooden bits. It felt smooth to the touch but the small shapes left lots of jagged edges between each little pebble.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Jamie stood and surveyed the peculiar space which he alone seemed to inhabit. There was no wind and only the sound of the tide to keep his ears company. He was completely naked, which was really something he felt he should have noticed earlier but right now it didn't really seem to matter. He was completely alone and as such made no attempt to cover himself. In fact, he felt strangely calm about the whole thing now and as time went on he only felt more and more relaxed. All the buzzards in his head squawking shrill questions at his psyche were dying off and leaving him with something not unlike tranquillity. It was peaceful here. Lonely, but peaceful.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Hours passed and Jamie wandered around on the shore. The stones (or wood?) that nestled under his feet were uncomfortable at first but he quickly became accustomed to them. He lost perspective on how far he had walked before long and it just became aimless wandering. Always forward though. He had chosen a direction parallel to the tide and stuck to his guns. He wasn't overly concerned with finding anything out here but something inside his belly drove him to seek and discover more of this alien place. Eventually the sound of something slapping against water broke his trance and he snapped his gaze out to sea. On the cusp of the horizon a light was peaking its head over the blackness, eerie and pale the light bobbed hypnotically in the water and drew closer as he watched it. Rhythmic pounding against water added to the systematic sway of the light atop the black ocean and after minutes Jamie could have sworn that there was a faint song playing somewhere beneath the folds of the windless beach. It was something like a violin but far slower than he had ever heard one played before. It just hummed from all around quieter than a whisper.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The shape that emerged into his sight was, at first, silhouetted by the swaying light source. It appeared to be a large lump of black flesh in the water with something like a man standing atop it. The figure took his berth on the shoreline and Jamie wandered closer. The closer that the ex-reservations clerk got the calmer he felt and the louder the music reverberating in the back of his thoughts became. He could make out details of the thing now. It was a man, or at least something like a man but with arms far too long and thin, wrapped in a long dark cloak, the folds of which seemed to hold many lights almost too dim for Jamie to make out and he was riding on a large fish. A cross between an inky black manta-ray and an angler fish with a tail that arched gracefully out of the ocean and held on its crook a perfect sphere which emitted the pale light. Its head was hidden beneath the surface but there was no doubt in Jamie's mind that this fish was the monster he had seen on the subway. Oddly, that didn't bother him one bit.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"I'm dead aren't I?" Jamie spoke softly, his eyes dropping to his feet.</div></span></div></div><div style="background-color:#101010; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><img alt="" src="http://i.imgur.com/IjkT7Y7.png" style="float:right; padding:6px;"/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #7b2424"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: Pristina;"><span style="font-weight: bold">A M E R S H A M</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #6b1f1f"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: Pristina;"><span style="font-weight: bold">There's no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going.</span></span></span></span><span style="color: #101010">____________________</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #d6d6d6"><div style="text-indent:1em;">There wasn't much to be seen in Amersham station at any given time, let alone now due to the rumors of a terrorist organization. The place looked much the same as ever lit by the pallid bulbs of the platform. Most of the kiosks were closed, save for the Mystic Moon Cafe and a small ice cream parlor by the name of Elsie's Ices. Even the station performers were no where in sight. Out of the hundreds of frequent patrons that could be found boarding or exiting a train at Amersham station, there were maybe fifty people there at this time catching a train to or from work. Drunks mostly and a peppering of businessmen and women who seemed to be in a perpetual state of agitation that the train was late even though it wasn't due for another few minutes. The only truly peculiar sight was the lack of law enforcement or investigative personnel or yellow tape. For a suspected terrorist attack site there was little to be seen in the way of anyone taking any of this terrorism business seriously.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The main light source of the entrance to the station, down that long flight of stairs, was the sun that was in an eternal battle of hide and seek behind the cloud cover. Many of the lights that lined the corners of the ceiling had gone out months ago. Every few minutes the sun would vanish behind thick dark grey and the station would take a notably dark turn for a matter of seconds, even up to a minute or two, before reappearing for a similar amount of time. It wasn't until after almost twenty minutes that the sunlight vanished for longer than before and didn't seem to be returning.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The hiss of metal on metal filled the surroundings and a bright light tore the veil of the dark tunnel to the far left of the platform. The gearous whine of the breaks cut into the grim silence roughly and abruptly as a train pulled into Amersham. The twelve fifty five, the cross-town train of the afternoon. The train looked to be no different to its brothers in arms, a dirty chrome colossus tugging tons upon tons of metal cars each lit no better than the station that surrounded it. The sides of the car were covered in grime and paint, the odd tag visible on its armour.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Slowly but surely, the patrons catching their train to wherever shambled towards its doors. Of the slightly over four dozen waiting for the thing, the only thing that seemed off were random strangers who would wander towards the cars and slowly, subtly walk away from their initial destination and converge on one car in particular. The car third from the front attracted no less than six of the people catching the train. By any normal stretch it wouldn't look like anything odd. Perhaps the other cars had a smell to them or were filled with homeless who would be woken and kicked off once the train reached its last stop.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Whatever the reason, the third car seemed to be attractive to these few.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">To those among the station with an astute sense for the supernal might feel the air grow denser with the arrival of the train. Something lingered here. It smelled old and sweet like pomegranate which was just a bit too ripe. There was one criteria which some in the station may recognize instantly. It was the scent of death. Anybody among the bystanders who had spent time close to death, or perhaps even in death, would probably pick up on this particular aroma quicker than others.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Two minutes before the last train finished boarding, six more individuals boarded the third car, aware or not of the weighted aura it projected.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The train was more than welcoming of the many passengers who boarded it, a disproportionate amount of them choosing the same car. At first impression the train seemed relatively normal, it was lit by the same lights as its comrades and felt more or less like taking the train any other day. The only difference was in the atmosphere. The lingering heaviness and not quite tangible smell and taste were a little thicker here though not alarmingly so. As the men and women would enter the train there would be a short pause before anything happened, maybe a minute at most. The doors, all at once across every car would hiss and close, signalling that it was ready to depart. By now, any aware individuals would know that if anything were going to happen on the twelve fifty five, it was much too late to get out of dodge.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">With a screech the train began to lumber forward slowly at first but picking up speed as it dashed into the blackness between stations.</div></span></div></div><br/><div style="background-color:#101010; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><ul><span style="color: #7b2424"><span style="font-weight: bold">Notes:</span></span> <span style="color: #d6d6d6">There will be one round of posting before my next GM post.</span><br/><span style="color: #7b2424"><span style="font-weight: bold">Tags:</span></span></ul></div></div>