The number 12B Train was on its usual journey from Royston to Monkton taking workers to and from the coking factory. The day was supposed to be wet and gloomy and a mist is said to have swept in from the east that cold autumn night. The moon was full looking over Royston that night but still wives and children waited patiently for the men to return home .......SAFELY.
The train hurried along that night leaving behind the company of the factory and entered the bleak and lonely night. The train was nearing the tunnel that night but the driver saw an old man crossing the tracks so he ordered the train to halt. It was too late the man was hit and the driver wandered where the man's body was, until the old man appeared before him and stated these words 'Sleep safely this night as it will be your last' .
Every one who was on that train died mysteriously that night and the tracks were closed, but now the superstition has passed and the tracks will open again.
There's a girl driving along I-70 on the way back to Colorado after visiting her relatives in Illinois. It's about 1:00 am and it starts raining when she realizes she's almost out of gas. She sees a sign for a gas station about 3 miles ahead and breaths a sigh of relief. But when she gets there she sees it's one of those old run down family-owned gas stations. She's scared to stop but she really has no other choice. As she pulls in an old man with a disfigured faces comes running through the rain. He puts the pump in the tank and asks for her credit card. She hands it to him over the top of the window and he runs back inside.
After a few seconds he comes back out and tells the girl she will have to come inside, her card has been denied. Reluctantly, she walks inside. The old man grabs her and tries to tell her something but she hits him with a can of oil sitting on the counter. She runs back to her car and takes off with the old man screaming and flailing his arms at her. After driving for a few miles she turns on the radio and starts to relax. As she looks in the rear-view mirror, she sees someone pop up in the back seat holding an axe above their head. It's the last thing she ever sees. Apparently, the old man at the gas station was trying to warn her.
'Creak', a sound, faint, distant, but still heard.
'Crack', something snapping, or being trampled on.
The man sits in his room, reading. The room is silent except for the quiet fire burning.
'Creak'..Just the the house settling, nothing more.
'Crack', Perhaps some small animals outdoors.
'Whoosh', Was that the wind?
The man stands up and peeks out the window. A clear night is all he sees, the full moon brillent in the sky. Laughing at his nervousness, he returns to his book.
'Creak', the man now silently chuckles at the sound.
'Crack', how could he have been scared of some sounds.
'Whoosh', must be breezy out tonight.
'Thump'...did that come from within the house?
The man stares into the fire, trying to calm his jangled nerves.
'Whoosh'...will the sounds never cease?
Closer, he thinks, the sounds are getting closer. He shuts the book and closes his eyes, and thinks of something besides his wild imagination.
'Thump'...'Thump'...'Thump'...a pause? The man moves quietly, slowly, towards the door with a nervous gait. 'Thump'...a step back...'Thump'...yes, it's getting closer. 'Thump'...he stares at the door, trying to somehow see through it...'Thump'...he reaches slowly for the doorknob, hand shaking, no longer able to take not knowing...'Creak', a loose floorboard, near the door outside...'Thump', he slowly opens the door...