#Ghost Trains

[holycatsandrabbits]

Hey, writers! Looking to write a ghost story? There are 5 ghostly posts on my Weird Wednesday blog, with writing prompts:

The Greenbrier Ghost: Testimony from Beyond the Grave

Poltergeists: Noisy Ghosts

The Amityville Horror: Infamous American Haunted House

The Haunted Rail: Ghost Trains

The Mysterious Ouija Board: Who Are You Talking To?

A prompt for Ghost Trains:

Memento Mori. Hauntings that replay tragedies are called residual hauntings. They’re like an old movie, where none of the actors are actually present in your living room, but you can watch them over and over. Grieving characters might be drawn to the scene of a train crash on its anniversary for a last glimpse of a loved one who died on the train. Or they might hear rumors of vanishing-hitchhiker passengers and hope they might recognize one. A character could even contact a necromancer (a person with the magical skill to summon the dead) to try to keep the hitchhiker from vanishing.

DannyeChase.com ~ AO3 ~ Linktree ~ Weird Wednesday writing prompts blog ~ Resources for Writers 

Image credit

[locomotive-idiot]

What is the most hallowed ween train you have, gibbus

you have no idea how all-out the tweetsie goes for halloween my man

(honorable mention is the spirit of halloween from train sim)

also, also, also, you need to listen to "Ghost trains" by hank snow.

Ghost Trains - Hank Snow

that is all for what i have

go to train of though (the youtube channel) for some cool train ghost stories

i dont care that its november 1st

[hazel-of-sodor]

A Screech in the Night: Ch.1

Ch.1 The Uman and Din

Other Chapters

To the north of Harlech in Merioneth, lies a little railway, the Uman and Dim. Once a branch line of God's Wonderful Railway itself, the line had been closed by a Doctor who had odd ideas on healing the country's rail lines. The Doctor had been tasked with fixing the railways by men who knew the price of everything, and the value of nothing. The solution he came up with was to simply remove lines till the railway worked. 

 The Uman and Din was one of the lines closed, but as normally happens in the world, the people the line served knew the line's value better than the directors in London. The line was bought for the town and with it six engines. These were not diesels or even electrics as one might guess today, but steam engines, proper Swindon ones at that. This is the story of how they gained their seventh.

One cold winter's night, the railway received a visitor. Eight large driving wheels propelled a shadow across the yard towards the shed. Tendrils of shadow whipped off of the engine's form.

'Scare them,' a quiet voice whispered within the giant's mind.

 4702 chuckled lowly as she approached the shed. These engines looked so content and secure in this little shed. It was time to remind them how lucky they were to be saved from her fate. A glimpse of her fate would ensure they valued what they had been given.

"Quiet," came the quiet hiss just as 4702 was about to blast her whistle. She looked in surprise to see a 0-6-0 pannier tank of the 97xx class was awake and looking at her anxiously.

Before 4702 could reply, the tank engine spoke. "You're more than welcome to sleep here, we'd never turn another engine away, especially another Western, but please keep it down." She looked over to the Star class at the end of the shed. "Abbey only got back an hour ago and has to be up at daybreak. She needs her sleep."

4702 looked over the Star class. Even in sleep, exhaustion covered her features. The number 4061 on her cabside was faded and dull, as were the nameplates on her sides reading Glastonbury Abbey, but above her smokebox a lovingly polished nameplate reading Guinevere sat. She towered over the other engines in the shed.

The 97xx followed her gaze. "She's the strongest." She whispered quietly. "We help where we can, but she's the only one capable of far too many of the trains."

4702 surveyed the other engines, each bore exhaustion on their features heavily as they slept fitfully.

The 97xx looked no better, it was obvious she dearly wished to join her fleetmates in sleep. Painted across the side of her can the name Enid could just be made out.

'Wake them!' the whisper cackled.

4702 shoved the voice aside with all the strength her class was famed for. 

"Tell me little one," 4702's voice was a mere whisper, yet it echoed around them, bouncing back again and again from odd angles, filling the air as thoroughly as a siren. "why do you not sleep with your shedmates?"

The tank engine looked down sadly, "Vandals keep trying to steal parts from the shed...sometimes from off us. It's my night to stand watch."

'Scare theeemmm' the whisper hissed.

The giant flicked her tendrils in agitation, "Not tonight little one." The little 97 tried to argue, but 4702 continued, "sleep. I will stand guard. Any vandal will find themselves sorely regretting the choices that led them here this night."

4702 shimmered in place, suddenly facing out from the shed. She rolled quietly back into the shed, a shadow brushing coldly across the 97's cheek. She was asleep before 4702 had stopped moving.

'Revenge,' the whisper hissed sullenly.

"Not tonight," the giant rumbled quietly. "These engines have earned their rest."

The whisper subsided mutinously.

4702 allowed it a moment before continuing, "It is just for the night, tomorrow we steam for London. Then you will have your fill."

The whisper rumbled happily.

"Besides," 4702's smile stretched far too wide, "the night is not over yet. Who knows what vandals might stumble upon tonight."

The whisper's cackle rang throughout her mind.

Author’s Note:

Hey guys! This new fic will be coming out every Tuesday until I either catch up with where I’ve written (currently 7 chapters are done). Normally I wait till I’ve finished a Fic, but I honestly have no idea how far this fic will go. It was supposed to be a one shot and I’ve written 7 chapters and I’m not done with the original concept.

[dragon-storm-of-the-west]

Nimbasa Ghost Trains

LMAO GUESS WHO JUST GOT A FUN NEW IDEA

Fun new idea for a Horror/mystery au in which some.. strange.. events begin happening in the subways of nimbasa city..  :)

At the start, its just minor anomalies on the subways at night when things are shut down. First just a ping of something on the tracks here and there.  But any time its checked out, there's nothing.

Then a few people go missing.  But, as alarming as it is, its not assumed to have any connection to the minor anomalies at all.  People go missing,  And the subways are crowded.  As much as the nimbasa subway workers do their bets to keep traveling the subways safe,  its impossible to keep every bad thing from happening.  And thus, its inevitable that a few people might go missing down there. As horrible as it makes the Subway bosses and their depot agents feel when it happens.

Then people start saying they boarded trains that took them to the wrong platform. Or didnt stop at all for hours.  Some say when they got on the train, it just refused to move.  Or it did move, but when it came to a stop later, it was at the same platform as before.

But thats impossible!  The main subway controls and tracking showed no signs of any trains malfunctioning, no indication that any had rode for hours, or arrived at the wrong platforms.  All trains were accounted for! And none showed any signs of the things so many people were reporting.

Then the anomalies start to become more frequent. Before it was only once a week.  But now its nearly every other night.

Three people go missing all at once.

[teachanarchy]

The “Ghost” Trains That Split Up India

[paranormal-playground-podcast]

Phantom Train of Anza-Borrego Desert

Thanks for reading! If you have a suggestion for something to cover, let me know!

The Phantom Train of Anza-Borrego Desert is a chilling tale. This ghostly locomotive has intrigued many with its spectral sightings and mysterious origins. Nestled in the vast Anza-Borrego Desert, this legend continues to captivate both locals and tourists. The allure of the Phantom Train of Anza-Borrego Desert draws paranormal enthusiasts from around the world, all eager to catch a glimpse of…

[writerofweird]

The Skeleton on the Ghost Train

Over there, you’ll find a fair,Is it a place you should beware?It’s primarily for the undead,Ghosts and skeletons, there they’ll head,But don’t worry, it’s not obscene,The toffee apples don’t bite and the burgers aren’t green,It’s still a place where fun can be had,And here’s a skeleton with her two dads,Yes, Amelia rides the Ghost Train,And the set-up stays the same,Cloth ghosts drop from the…

[zegalba]

Seiryu Miharashi Station (The Ghost Station) is a railway station on the Nishikigawa Seiryū Line in Yamaguchi Prefecture, Japan. It has no entrances or exits, meant only to get fresh air and enjoy the scenery.

[bluegiragi]

do not pet (he bites)

early access + nsfw on patreon

[shotmrmiller]

there are two modes to simon. handsy and handsy.

handsy is the gentle hold he has on your wrist when you're watching a movie on the couch, his thumb brushing your knuckles, tracing ever bump and curve. it's a cozy arm thrown over your waist, weighty enough to leave your side sore after, with his leg slid between yours while he snores into your ear after a long day's work. the hand on your knee under the table while eating breakfast, lightly squeezing when you ask him if he wants more.

and then there's handsy. his grip tight around the soft of your waist, fingers creating little divots into your flesh as he tries to slow the pace you've set, feeling his climax too close too soon. it's how he fists your hair and maneuvers your head to the side without much effort while you're on your stomach, the light prick on your scalp only adding to the pleasure, as he mutters into your ear if you can give him another one. (guess you'll die, then.)

how he paws at your arse when he's got you on your knees with your face dug into a pillow as he pistons his hips, the occasional slap of his balls onto your clit making your ears ring and calves tense almost painfully, until he pulls you up, his chest and your back slick with sweat and you come with his one hand around your throat and the other jerking little circles on your stiffened pearl.

the two touches are so different from each other, one a tender thing as if he's afraid to hurt you and the other wanting to hurt, but a different kind of ache, the one he will always soothe with his fingers, mouth and cock.

(call him a triple threat.)

whether you like it or not, you've been conditioned. soft and gentle means affection and care, similar to him bussing the side of your head every morning before work while rough and firm means you're about to be ploughed until you're left to soak in a bath to recover from the onslaught.

and you'd been prepared to take this secret to the grave, to not tell a soul how he'd pulled you out of a pool with enough strength to feel your rear shoulder sting and you'd just about moaned in broad daylight. or how he'd moved you out of soap's trajectory during the first meet by the wrist and if you hadn't been wearing a jumper, your peaked nipples would've been visible to anyone.

but naturally, things never go your way. he'd found out in no time and now he uses that knowledge to his advantage. a quick sneaky fuck in price's bathroom during a barbecue starts with a vicious tug of your arm. getting ate out in the back alley of a pub: giving your thigh a squeeze so tight it could bruise while you sip on the swill you call beer.

and every single time he's pulling your pants down or flipping your skirt up, you're already dripping with want.

now to get him to stop manhandling you like that when the 141 are around.

(soap's left like a deer in headlights after he forcibly sat your tipsy arse down next to him because "LT said to keep 'n eye on ye," and a moan had slipped past your lips unbidden and now the girls boys are fighting someone help)

[grey-viridian]

Even death can't separate them

[holycatsandrabbits]

Hey, y’all, it’s Weird Wednesday! Where on some Wednesdays, I blog about weird stuff and give writing prompts.

Today: The Haunted Rail: Ghost Trains

“It is said that on that night, every year, all the train men that are on the road at a certain hour…hear and see and feel the spectre train rush by them. It sounds hollow and awful. Its lights are yellow, pale and funeral. Its train hands and passengers are sepulchral figures. … It even carries with it a whirl of wind as fast as trains do, but it is a cold, clammy, grave-like atmosphere, all its own. As it passes another train the shriek of its whistle and clang of its bell strike terror to the hearts of those that hear them.”

— “A Railroad Ghost Story” about the phantom funeral train of Abraham Lincoln, printed September 13, 1879 in the Rockland County Journal (New York)

When we’re talking about the haunting of mass transportation, whether it be plane, ship, bus, subway, or train, there are actually several varieties of legend. The first is the classic ghost vehicle, as described above: the train itself is a ghost, traveling on tracks still in use, or (more eerily) areas where tracks used to run. You can see and hear this train well enough to be terrified, but you can’t go on board. Usually these ghost trains are recreations of funeral trains or trains which crashed. Sometimes you get the crash itself reenacted, with the sounds of crunching metal and screaming passengers. The train may also be a death omen for anyone who sees it.

Check out the blog post for the whole story and some on-track writing prompts, such as:

Memento Mori. Hauntings that replay tragedies are called residual hauntings. They’re like an old movie, where none of the actors are actually present in your living room, but you can watch them over and over. Grieving characters might be drawn to the scene of a train crash on its anniversary for a last glimpse of a loved one who died on the train. Or they might hear rumors of vanishing-hitchhiker passengers and hope they might recognize one. A character could even contact a necromancer (a person with the magical skill to summon the dead) to try to keep the hitchhiker from vanishing.

DannyeChase.com ~ Ao3 ~ Linktree ~ Weird Wednesday writing prompts blog ~ Resources for Writers

Image credit

[locomotive-idiot]

THEN A LOUD RUSHING ROAR LIKE YOU NEVER HEARD BEFORETURNED THE BLOOD INTO ICY WATER IN MY VEINS

AS I WATCHED WITH RISING FEAR, SOMETHING STRANGE DRAWING NEARAND I SAW IN THE CLOUDS GHOST TRAINS

(GHOST TRAINS GHOST TRAINS WHAT A FEARFUL SIGHT)

THE CANNONBALL AND NUMBER NINE WERE RACING THROUGH THE NIGHT

JUST AS THEY PASSED ME BY

I HEARD THE ENGINEER CRY: "GIVE HER COAL, GIVE HER COAL, SHOVEL IT ALL!"

[hazel-of-sodor]

A Screech in the Night Ch:2

Ch:2 Firelight

Other Chapters

The firelighters arrived early before dawn. They stopped cold at the sight of the rumbling eldritch behemoth guarding the shed as if a dragon had come to protect its mechanical kin. But this was Wales, and after a moment the workers shrugged and began preparing the other engines.

The engines roused slowly as their fires were raised, 4702 watching their double takes at her presence with amusement.

Once the others were steamed, the firelighters glanced toward the giant apprehensively, "Do we light her fire as well?" One asked, mustering her courage.

"Oh, you certainly may try," 4702 cooed, reaching out with one of her tendrils to tap the firelighters rag.

The young woman dropped her rag hastily as it turned to ash in seconds.

"Leave her to me." The head firelighter stepped forward. He was an older gentleman with a head full of grey, short hair, the tips turning white.

4702 raised an eyebrow, "I will not be responsible for anything you lose in the attempt."

The whisper cackled in her mind.

The old man smiled knowingly, "I'll make you a deal young lady, if you're right, I'll make sure no one holds it against you, and you can go on your merry way."

The firelighter's smile suddenly grew challenging, almost predatory, "but if I can stream you, you have to pull our morning freight." 

'Do iiiitttt.' The whisper pleaded.

4702 smiled a shark-like grin, happy to agree with the whisper, "We have a deal."

The firefighter pulled off his gloves and moved to lay his hand on her running board.

'Yesss!' The whisper cackled with glee.

To both of their shock a warmth shot through her running board the instant his hand made contact. She couldn't help the shudder that shook her frames as she felt heat for the first time since her scrapping.

The firelighter met her eyes with a small smirk, " Would you be a Dear and pull up to the coaling stage, chun? You'll need plenty of coal and water for today." He patted her running board and walked towards the coaling tower.

'How...' The whisper sounded utterly dumbfounded.

The giant rolled forward slowly, uncaring that her curiosity was shown openly. Everything else she had touched had been reduced to ash in seconds. How could he touch her?

She stopped by the coaling stage and soon the lever was pulled and her tender filled for the first time in months. She fought to keep from squirming at the once familiar feeling. She was so focused on the feeling she almost missed the firelighter grabbing her tender handrail and clambered up on top.

The whisper grumbled about the unfairness of it all as the firelighter swung the water pipe over and began to fill her tender.

Before 4702 could respond a shout echoed through the yard. 

"Gywn Jones, just what do you think you are doing?"

The firelighter's head popped up, "Freda my cariad!" His enthusiastic greeting was met with an unimpressed stare. "I was just firing up the young lass, isn't she just beautiful!"

4702 blinked dumbfounded. She'd had many reactions to her appearance: screams, fainting, and the ever-popular "why are my eyes bleeding?"

Freda was unimpressed. "By yourself? And would I be right in guessing you haven't even asked the poor lass her name?"

"Erm..."

"I thought not." The woman turned to face 4702, "Forgive my husband. He sees a pretty locomotive and what little brains he had flies out the window. I am Freda Jones and the rude fellow on your tender is Gywn." She glared at her sheepishly smiling husband. She laid a warm hand on 4702's buffers, "Now dear, do you have a name you prefer?"

'I like her,' the whisper grudgingly admitted.

"Screech." 4702 said slowly, staring at the hand on her buffer, unaffected even when she poked it with a tendril experimentally.

"A proper name for a Night Owl!" Gywn crowed, seemingly not noticing as a tendril kept him from slipping off the tender.

Freda pinched her nose in long-suffering exasperation. "In my defence dear, I thought he would eventually grow up." She sighed, "I guess I better come alone or He'll find you both in trouble soon enough."

"He mentioned a morning freight?" Screech ventured.

"The Morning Pike then," Freda said walking back toward the cab. "A fish train. Ran express from Uman through to Din. It's heavy, but I suspect you'll manage, and it'll let poor Guinevere get some sleep."

As Freda climbed into the cab, Gywn had begun expertly lighting a fire. For the first time in months, or was it years at this point? Warmth spread through Screech's boiler. Snow began to fall lightly, deepening the drifts around the yard. Long before she expected, her safety valve lifted as steam escaped into the dark morning air. Her tendrils poked at it experimentally. 

"Let us be off Screech!" Gywn called from the cab, "We'll show the lorries a thing or two today."

As she set off towards the distant docks, 4702 wondered what she had got herself into.

Author’s Note:

Hey guys! Currently writing Ch.8 and 9, and I haven’t even reached the original story beats yet. This is gonna be a long one.

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny goes to a new School

So! When Danny got expelled from his High School, it wasn't really a big Suprise. He had missed for too many days or just walked out in the middle of Class, and his grades were lower than anyone else in the school. It was just a matter of time really.

When confronted by his Parents, he had just claimed that it was the constant ghost attacks getting to him (not a total lie) and that he was sorry.

Well, his parents tried to help.

After hearing about his supposed Fear of Ghosts, they decided that it was a good idea for him to go to school somewhere outside of Amity Park, so he could focus on his Schoolwork and not be distracted by the constant Attacks.

Of course no School wanted to accept a problem student like Danny, so they were forced to look into alternative schools to find one that would accept him. And they did! So they had Danny pack his bags, promise to call regularly, and shipped him off to his new School.

HIVE Academy.

[yooo-lets-go]

Elias Walker father of the year