Vol. 2a - BETWEEN STATIONS #3: Last Call

A STATION DARK public broadcast

Welcome to the signal.

Vol. 2a - BETWEEN STATIONS # 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Vol. 2b - THE LONG STAY # 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Vol. 1 - STATION DARK # 1 (of 18)

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Aiden is lost within the hidden spaces of his house after an ancient presence fails to take hold in his rural town. Something sinister is hunting him between the walls, and all he knows to do is keep running.

Read the first episode of BETWEEN STATIONS HERE

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Last Call

Aiden didn’t touch the freestanding door.

He stood where he was, close enough to see the scuffs that bloomed across the green paint and the faint scratches and tarnish of heavy use on the brass handle. He reached out, then stopped himself, his fingers hovering in the air. The station felt too still for that.

Instead, he turned. His footsteps echoed softly as he walked along the length of the platform, past benches worn smooth by people who weren’t there anymore. The lanterns above him glowed without heat, without flicker. Their light didn’t cast shadows so much as outline absence.

“Hello?” he called.

His voice carried farther than he expected, thinning as it went, returning from some distant place as nearly a whisper. He stopped and listened, wondering what other ripples he could hear in the silence. That was when he heard her. Just a voice, not loud but not close, carried gently along the ribs of the ceiling, as if the station itself had decided to pass it along.

“I don’t suppose you know if they’ve changed the schedule again?” it said.

The voice sounded…normal. Female. It sounded older and weaker, strained in the spaces between words. Was she talking to him? What did she mean? “Hello?” he said again.

There was a momentary pause. Then a response.

“Oh. Good. I was starting to think I’d missed it.”

The voice came from farther down the platform. Or maybe closer. Aiden couldn’t tell. The sound behaved like it didn’t want to be found, or maybe the station’s bones bounced their echoes the wrong way. His heart began to beat faster. He turned slowly, scanning the benches, the far wall, the dim ends of the platform. There was no one there. “Where are you?” he said, unsure why he whispered. “Hello?”

Aiden took a step. Then another. As he walked, the station seemed to subtly rearrange itself. Benches appeared where he was sure he’d already passed them, and signs overhead pointed different directions at each glance. The clocks on the far wall stayed where they were, but he noticed new ones had appeared closer now, all stopped at different moments in time.

“Aren’t there usually announcements?” the woman’s voice asked. “Someone should say something.”

“Where are you?” said Aiden, louder this time.

“That’s strange,” she replied. “Perhaps I should go…” Her voice trailed off, like she’d forgotten something and was wandering away.

Aiden broke into a run. “Wait!” he called. “Don’t leave me!”

His shoes slapped against the wooden planks, the sound oddly sharp in the vast quiet. The lanterns overhead dimmed slightly as he passed beneath them and brightening again once he moved on.

He rounded the far end of the platform and nearly collided with a bench, where a woman sat. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap around a small purse. She wore a heavy coat buttoned up to her throat and sensible shoes dusted with something pale and powdery. Her hair was pinned back carefully, though a few strands had escaped. She looked cold.

“Oh,” she said, startled. “Hello, there.“

Aiden stopped short, breathing hard. “Are… Are you lost, too?” he asked.

She smiled faintly, relief softening her face. “I suppose I must be. I don’t usually have trouble with these things.” She glanced around, frowning. “This station looks different than I remember.” She looked back at him warmly, as if a smile made everything alright. “What’s your name?”

“Aiden,” he said.

She considered his name longer than she should have. “My name is Margaret,” she said finally. “Mrs. Addams to you, I suppose. You look familiar. Did you live nearby?”

Something tightened painfully in Aiden’s chest. “I think I might,” he said. He remembered her now, the old lady who lived on Maple.

Mrs. Addams looked down at her purse, turning it over in her hands as if checking for something. “I was expecting someone to come by. I thought I heard them on the porch.”

“The porch?”

She nodded. “It was cold. I was just collecting the paper, I think.” She paused. “I’m not sure how I ended up here. I’m sure someone will be by.”

She sat very still after that, her hands folded over her purse, her eyes unfocused as if she were listening to something far away.

Aiden followed her gaze.

The clocks along the wall hadn’t moved. He was sure of that. But one of them had begun to make a sound. It wasn’t a tick, really, but more like a click.

Mrs. Addams frowned. “That’s odd. They usually tell you.”

“Tell you what?” said Aiden.

She hesitated. Then, slowly, she shook her head. “I’m not sure anymore.”

The lanterns dimmed. The station seemed to exhale. Aiden felt the pressure shift, the same feeling he’d had in the halls and tunnels before the dark closed in, like something was arriving.

“Mrs. Addams,” he said quietly.

She looked at him.

For the first time since he’d met her, her eyes sharpened. Something was still missing, but she recognized more. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she said.

Aiden swallowed. “I want to go home.”

She glanced around again, slower this time. The benches. The signs that pointed nowhere. The door standing alone at the center of the room. Her breath caught. “Oh. This is not right at all.”

The clicking clock stopped. The station somehow drew even quieter, like air sucked from a room before a wind blows through. Mrs. Addams pushed herself to her feet. She wobbled, steadied herself with one hand on the bench, then stood straight, smoothing her coat as if embarrassed to have been seen unsteady. “I’ve been waiting,” she said. “But I no longer remember what for.” She looked toward the freestanding door, which now stood just as close as before, even though Aiden had walked very far since then. “It’s open.”

Aiden followed her gaze. It had been closed before, he was sure of that. The door stood ajar now, the green paint catching the lantern light. Beyond it was darkness. Not the heavy dark of the halls he fled through to get here, but something lighter. Less lost, like it knew its purpose.

“Is that where you’re going?” asked Mrs. Addams.

“I think so,” said Aiden. “I think it’s the only way.”

Mrs. Addams hesitated. The station seemed to hold its breath with her. “I don’t remember leaving,” she said slowly. “I remember the porch. I remember thinking I should’ve gone back inside.” She pressed her lips together. “And then I remember waiting.” She looked at him for a long moment. “You’re very young. You shouldn’t be walking through places like this alone.”

Something shifted far beyond the lantern light. Aiden felt it as a presence changing shape. Mrs. Addams seemed to feel it too. She straightened, resolve settling over her like a coat. “Well,” she said, lifting her purse. “If it’s the last call, then I’d rather not miss it twice.”

She took a step away from the bench. The lanterns flickered. All the clocks ticked once. The sound rang through the station like a bell.

Aiden reached the door first. He paused and glanced back, and saw the station changing. The far ends of the platform blurred, stretching away into something indistinct. The signs overhead sagged, their arrows drooping. The benches looked farther apart now, less certain of where they belonged.

Mrs. Addams joined him, her shoulder brushing his. “You go first,” she said gently.

Aiden nodded and stepped through. The darkness beyond the door folded around him, cool and close. He felt the floor shift under his feet, felt the space decide how much room he was allowed.

Behind him, Mrs. Addams hesitated. The station made a sound like settling wood. Then she stepped forward too. The door closed behind them with a quiet, final click.

And for the first time since Aiden had arrived there, the station was truly empty.

*** End Transmission ***

Read the first episode of BETWEEN STATIONS, a parallel serial fiction exploring lost routes and hidden spaces, HERE

Go back to where it all began with the first episode of STATION DARK, a serial fiction in the surreal Midwest, HERE