The screeching of metal on metal and a sudden jolt abruptly yanks Steve from his deep slumber. With a start, he finds himself surrounded by the elegance of polished wood and gleaming brass from a forgotten era.

"Well, I guess it wasn't all just a dream," Steve mutters to himself, grappling with the surreal nature of the experience. The conductor's voice, reminiscent of crackling vinyl, echoes through the vintage speaker, declaring the arrival at the current stop.

" Transfer Hub."

Steve glances outside the window, greeted by a desolate panorama blanketed by an impenetrable overcast sky above and engulfed in eerie fog below. Multiple rails crisscross the scene, leading to dilapidated and deserted train platforms. In the heart of this forlorn expanse stands a lone brick building, its archways adorned with a weathered brown-and-white welcome sign swaying in a ghostly breeze. The conductor emerges at the front of the car, arm extended, signaling towards the door, eyes fixed on Steve.

“Guess this is where I get off,” Steve says, his voice laced with uncertainty.

The towering figure responds with a solitary nod, and a heavy realization descends upon Steve. He briskly shoulders his bag and steps towards the open door, venturing onto the silent platform. Scraps of paper and discarded debris skitter across the cracked concrete, remnants of tipped-over and battered trash cans. Carefully navigating the abandoned luggage, Steve picks up a single-page pamphlet depicting stick figures and peculiar scenes involving trash cans.

One is of a stick figure walking up to a trash can, the next shows the trash can growing teeth and eating the stick figure. These two have a red X across it. The last scene shows a stick figure shooting a trash can with a green check mark.

As Steve distances himself from the nearest trash can, he glances back to find the conductor leaning against the train, puffing on a filterless cigarette.

"Guess I should head inside. What do you think?" Steve asks.

The conductor's red eyes shift lazily to meet Steve's gaze, and he nods in agreement.

"Alright then."

As Steve proceeds along the desolate platform, he catches a mumbled utterance from the conductor that sounds like, “Udachi.”

Steve's footsteps reverberate through the vacant terminal as he ascends the yawning archway leading to a stairwell illuminated by dim yellow lights. Bracing himself for the unknown, he climbs the stairs, anticipating an otherworldly revelation. Upon reaching the summit, however, what meets his eyes is far more commonplace than expected. A simple, albeit outdated, train station unfolds before him.

The circular room features staircases leading down to various platforms, each adorned with brass numbers. Steve's own platform is designated as number three. Along the brick walls, unassuming wooden benches line the perimeter. At the room's center stands a solitary ticket booth. Within the booth, behind a glass panel and thick metal bars, an elderly man in a blue uniform akin to the conductor's rests. His matching hat completes the ensemble, pulled low over his weathered features. The old man appears to be dozing off at the counter, emitting intermittent snorts with each snore.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Steve clears his throat as he steps up to the raised counter, "Excuse me?"

The old man, now more alert, looks up with cloudy eyes. "Eh? What? You need a ticket?"

Steve glances around, noticing the lack of other passengers. "Well, I... uh, I have this." He shows the torn stub to the old man.

The old man peeks through his small reading glasses at the stub, his eyes narrowing. "This stub, kid. It serves a purpose, but getting a new ticket isn't one of them."

Steve blushes, realizing his mistake. "Oh, um, well, when is the next train back to Toronto?"

The old man removes his glasses, tucking them into his chest pocket, and regards Steve with a firm yet understanding gaze. "First time riding with us, eh?" Steve nods. "Well, kid, there's no train to Toronto from here. I mean, there might be one somewhere, somehow. Anyways, I'm afraid you won't be heading there today."

Steve's heart sinks at the realization that he might be stranded in this mysterious place. He swallows hard and asks, "So, where does the train go then? What is this place?"

The old man leans in closer, his voice dropping to a hushed tone, "This, my boy, is Transfer Hub. The trains that stop here go to places you won't find on any regular map. They lead to pockets of reality, fractured realms, and strange dimensions. Each stop is a different story, a different nightmare or wonder, depending on how you look at it."

Steve's eyes widen with a mix of fascination and trepidation. "So, what do I do now?"

The old man chuckles, his weathered with friendly smile lines. "You've already made the choice to get on the train. Getting off is something completely different. You can sit here and wait for a return train, but I wouldn't recommend it....not after dark. Or you get on the next train out."

Steve takes a moment to process the information. The idea of exploring unknown realms both terrifies and excites him. And if Steve was being honest with himself, what did he have to go back to a cold trailer with mom that probably never noticed he was gone, no real friends, a life of scraping by before getting a dead end job because he couldn't afford university.

After a thoughtful pause, he looks at the old man and says, "I'll catch the next train. Can you tell me where it's headed?"

The old man grins, revealing a hint of mischief. "Next stop? Well let’s put you on the next train to Haven’s Embrace. Got two other first timers heading out on it already."

The old man pauses in thought for a moment before shaking his head and continues, “How will you be paying?”

“How much is it?” Steve asks, pulling out his buddle of crumbled bills counting out what he had.

“What is that Canadian? Circa 2007?”, the old man asks, leaning forward to peer down at Steve’s meager funds.

“Ummm, yes.”

The old man sighs, leaning down he pulls out a thick book from under the desk. “ Let's see here.”

Flipping through the pages, he stops about halfway through the book and stabs his finger at a page, “ Bingo!” “ That will be 32.57.”

That was almost all Steve had, it left him with a few loose loonies and toonies to his name, but what choice did he have.

Counting out the exact change, Steve pushes the wrinkled bills and coins over the counter. The old man, with surprising agility, snatches up the payment and hands Steve a small golden ticket.

"Remember, kid, this ticket is the only way ride the train...safely. Hold onto it, and don't lose it. Now, head to platform five, the train should be there shortly."

Steve nods, pocketing the golden ticket. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the unknown adventure that awaits. As he walks toward platform five, he can't shake the feeling that this decision will alter the course of his life in ways he can't yet fathom.