Author's Notes: Based on a dream I had. A very odd dream but I expanded on it and, with lots of editing, it is done. Hopefully forever.

*ahem* by the by this story belongs to me. Yes? Yes.

Armageddon Train

I was sitting by a window, watching the world pass by. Everyone else sat as far away from me as possible, a large personless bubble infesting the seats near me. Just because I ended the world. I sighed and stared down at the suitcase on my lap. People don’t understand I had the choice to make or break the world. I just decided to break it, that’s all. I glanced at my watch. 4:00, there’s still time. The builders of the train had installed fluorescent lights, a horrible thing to do but no one wanted to look out the windows anyway. Well, except for me, I suppose. Perhaps it was some sort of morbid fascination or maybe the other humans were too frightened of what was happening outside. Nonetheless I stared out of mine, peering past my own glaring reflection and out into the world.

It was dark outside. Not the type of darkness that comes from a moonless night or the blackness of a sealed room. It was a devouring darkness, eating the world piece by little piece. There was light, however. The Sun-lamps stood above the city, heads turned down as if in mourning. Sentinels standing alone against the encroaching night. The bright lamps, normally illuminating all of the buildings and streets many miles below, struggled to light halos around themselves. Spires, apartment buildings, office towers, and others silhouetted against the faint light of the Sun-lamps, crowded together like sardines, each black mark blending into the other.

Every building was empty by now. Windows staring like hollow eyes when the train passed close enough to a Lamp. There were some people who had not believed in the end, who had resolutely stayed in their apartments, huddled together, listening to the faint ricketing of the train as it passed above them. I was the only one who knew what had happened to those unbelievers. I had written about it, after all. First the lights would flicker; then go out. The Sun-Lamps would flare into day mode and for a few brief moments they would be able to see. They would see the darkness, I made sure of that. No, I had to make sure, for if I didn’t many would merely fade away, eaten by that same blackness. They had to be aware of their doom; they had to recognize that they were going to die. And after that realization had hit them so would the wave of darkness and they would become a part of it. The ones who listened, who watched the transmissions and waited, sweating for the old train to come by, they lived. My hands tightened around my suitcase handle. It was a horrible way to die, aware of your death and yet unable to do anything about it but I had no sympathy for the bloated maggots who squirmed about the carcass of the world.

People had long ago ploughed the world to death. Humans lived in The City, a giant tick encompassing all the world; going about by the light of the Sun-Lamps during designated daytime then skulking through darkness in designated night time. Pollution spewed from every chimney, the black clouds settling and sulking among the upper buildings. The government had been eradicated by business, each person struggling to cling to life as it was drained by massive conglomerates. There were the maggots, chewing and eating, hoping to transform into a fly and take off, leaving the cadaver behind. And then there were the rodents, sitting on the squirming mass of flesh and picking off their easy meals. Fortunately, they all died and I felt no guilt for ending their pathetic lives.

The train clattered to a halt, inertia carrying it forward before it snapped back. Several people cried out, clutching their babies or spouses. Yet they still avoided that invisible bubble around me. The doors groaned, rusty hinges protesting before sliding reluctantly open. The darkness had reached even here, I noticed with interest. I certainly had not written it so powerful yet things such as this were unpredictable at best. People stood in this place, Angels, wings flared out behind them, held lamps, creating a slightly lit trail into the gloom. From the faint lights provided I could see a vague impression of rocky walls and a beaten dirt path. Several of the winged ones glanced about nervously even though there was nothing there, shifting from foot to foot and wrapping their white wings protectively around them. An angel walked up to the doors, different from the others.

“Okay, people. File off the train calmly. Follow the lamps and you’ll get there eventually. Just don’t step off the light; you’ll be eaten by that darkness.” He stepped aside and herded the people, waving an almost empty hourglass almost as a cattle prod.

Families clinging to each other, children whimpering. Young teenagers, alone and frightened. Elderly couples, walking briskly into the gloom. All wide eyed and pale faced, glancing around fervently, jumping at every small noise. None stayed behind. I sat in my seat, holding my suitcase in my lap, breathing a less pungent air, watching the back of the last human round the corner and vanish into the gloom. The angel turned to me, sightless sockets unerringly accurate.

“Are you not coming?”

I smiled and patted my suitcase, “No, all my stuff is here.”

“You’re too materialistic.”

“I know. But it’s all I have. My family, my beliefs, my humanity… all of it was burned away long ago.”

“Well, I tried. Can’t fault me for that.”

“No… no.”

His voice softened, “Goodbye.”

I nodded and leaned back into the padded seat. The train doors creaked shut with a relieved hiss and slowly the train began to move. I placed my suitcase on the floor and opened it. The chain shimmered even in the fluorescent lighting, the ethereal links tying me to The Book forever. I lifted the tome, the link in the binding almost glowing with happiness as it was reunited with the manacle on my wrist. Or maybe that was my imagination. I flipped through the pages, my messy, large penmanship sprawling across each previously blank canvas. I smiled as familiar sentences jumped from the indented parchment; some full of rage, ranting against what our world had become; others of events I had caused, deaths and disasters each printed forever on yellowing pages. I reached the last page, still white and unmarked. I took up my pen and wrote: the lights in the train went out.

I placed the book on my lap in the darkness, my reflection no longer impeding the view of the world outside. The Sun-Lamps still shone, dotting the darkened landscape. This must be what stars looked like before. I watched as a nearby halo of light faded, slowly consumed by the shadow. A few in the distance winked out. The world would be gone, swallowed. Finally, I sighed and leaned back as the train rattled on.

At 4:30 all the world went black.