Another one of those I stumbled upon while reading some stories. Now before I begin, reminders for newcomers, this will be a really scary story (Well, depending on how you see it). So, if you are one of those who doesn't like horror genre stuffs, I suggest you better find other posts in my blog rather than CREEPYPASTAs. As a ritual, before I ruin your imagination, please enjoy this beautiful picture/art while you have the chance to leave.
Anyhow, let's begin...
(As usual, I'll summarize.)
NOTE
The main character is a first person "I"
PLOT
I opened the old door where I used to grew up, and I can smell the dust rushing in my nose. The sound of boards creaking as I walk in, this brings back both good and bad memories, only a reminder of Train Man.
Once when I was a young boy, I used to live in this old house.
One day, me and my little brother decided to investigate an old tree house that my mom told me about. It was built by my uncle while he was out in the middle of the woods.
At that moment, I didn't expect anything to happen, but as we walked on, our surrounding starts becoming unfamiliar. My brother was starting to panic that we might got lost. I, on the other hand, tried to calm down and assess my surrounding, and I noticed an old tree house. Without telling my brother, I walked towards the house.
We climbed the ladders which leads to the house, and we start investigating. There were lots of magazines on the desk, and my brother would find this place like a Heaven for us to hang out. Upon searching, I noticed uncle's private notebook.
During our investigation, we could hear our mother's beckoning call from the woods, telling us to go home. As we walked back, I heard a soft rustle behind me, and to my reaction, I looked back. I tried scanning any changes that happened, and that was until I looked up at the tree house. In the small window hole I saw a glimpse of a man more than three times my age staring down at me hauntingly. Dark, dead black eyes, wild hair held only back by a train conductor’s hat, and dark green disgusting teeth, that slowly grew into an grisly smile. My foot got stuck on a tree's root, and I ran as fast as possible, not looking back at that devilish figure.
As I got home, I told mom what I saw, and she got mad and told me to never say such things. Even my brother didn't believe me. I got no support after going through that traumatizing moment, and I feared that I might've gone crazy.
Fear blocked me from almost anything, but my curiosity grew, and I wanted to know who the man in uncle's tree house was. So I went back, and as I entered the house, my first instinct was to look at uncle's notebook.
I pulled open to a random page and saw writings my uncle had made. They explained things he did and saw, dreams he had and wanted, and told a tale of an experience not so different from my own. My uncle wrote that he and his friend Toby saw a homeless man sitting on the railroad tracks in the road, drinking beer and rambling to himself. They stared at him curiously and laughed when he began to doze off. When he saw them, he got aggressive, and threw his bottle at them. They sprinted away back into the forest and went back to the safety of my uncle’s house.
My uncle called him the Train Man, which is where I first thought to call him that. A simple name, I thought, for a man so eerily frightening. At the time I had no proof that the man my uncle saw was the man that I saw in the tree house, but I knew that he was in fact, the Train Man. While reading the notebook I heard a raspy cough and distorted laugh beneath the tree house.
I start panicking, and dare not look into the exit hole and start looking for an object of protection, and found a pocket knife. As the noise gets closer, all I could do is crouching in the corner. The noise of the man climbing the ladders, the noise of those creaky board. I could feel him standing next to me with his disgusting aroma, but dare not open my eyes.
He grabbed my neck from the back of my neck and held me up like a prize. He gripped my throat hard and stopped me from breathing. He pulled my face level with his own and croaked, LOOK AT ME BOY, I AM THE TRAIN MAN! He bellowed this again, and again, until I finally sprung my eyes open and stared into his dead black marbles.
KNOW ME, FEAR ME, AND ALWAYS REMEMBER ME! The Train Man’s voice transferred onto my face like a blanket of musk and forced me to cough fearfully. WHO AM I?? The Train Man said this with the look of absolute hate in his eyes, with the face of death, claiming another soul. WHO…. AM… I???? ANSWER ME NOW, BOY! I slowly told him what he wanted to hear, what I dreaded having to say, the Train Man…
The Train Man’s evil grin returned and he dropped me to the floor with a thud. I began to cry deeply and shut my eyes again.
The page after the picture is something my uncle wrote, a story about
him and my mother walking through the woods with a friend of theirs.
"The other day, when me and Michelle were walking down to the lake, this boy named Jared asked us if we wanted to see something cool. Michelle was kinda nervous about it but I told her it would be fine and we walked with Jared to the railroad tracks that entered the forest. We walked along it for a few minutes before Jared told us to go this way, and he made us go into this one part of the woods. I started to get a little scared when he said this, but I didn’t want Jared to think I was a baby so I went along with him. After a minute Jared told us to be quiet, and showed us this small wooden house on the ground. We slowly creeped over to it and Jared told us to look into the a small window on the outside of it. Inside on a small dirty mattress was the Train Man that me and Toby saw before, drinking on the railroad tracks. I don’t know why but this scared me and I almost started to cry. Jared then pulled out a match book and lit one, then tossed it into the window. Jared told us to run over and wait behind a tree. We did, and after a moment smoke began to come out through the windows. Jared could not stop laughing, and Michelle started to cry. I didn’t know what to do so I just started to grab Michelle’s arm and slowly back away. Suddenly, the Train Man ran out of his hut with a knife in his hand and started to look around. Jared’s laughing and Michelle’s crying gave us away immediately, and he ran over to us. Me and Michelle ran away, but Jared just stood there laughing. Michelle ran away to the train tracks, but I stayed and watched. The Train Man grabbed Jared by the throat and slammed him hard against a tree. Jared’s feet were kicking but he did not scream, I could not see his face but I assumed he was as scared as I was, The Train Man then rummaged through Jared’s pockets and pulled out the match book, and crumpled it in his hands. The Train Man, still holding Jared by the throat, carried him over to the burning hut and tossed him inside. The Train Man, wielding his knife, then went inside after him. When I saw this I ran away back towards the train tracks and Michelle."
I close the notebook and stand up. It’s dark now, the moon is out and full, and the heavy night is making itself very aware to me. I leave the house and head towards the woods, where the Train Man lives.
As I reach the tree house, I hear the all too familiar sounds of the Train Man’s laughter filled me with an ancient dread. I turn around and there he stands, the same dirty train conductor’s outfit, the same old hat barely holding back the agelessly unkept hair, and the same evil smirk, shining brightly beneath those two pitch black eyes. I quickly rush to the floor where the notebook lay and retrieve it. The Train Man pulls out his knife from his overalls and puts it in a slashing position. I take the notebook and turn the lighter on beneath it. This does little to slow the Train Man down, and he slices my left arm, making me drop the notebook to the floor, and making me fall backwards. He did his best to keep me away from the notebook. The Train Man begins to laugh loudly at me and then bellows, YOU CAN’T KILL THE TRAIN MAN BOY! NO ONE CAN KILL THE TRAIN MAN!
I ignored and kept reaching for the book, and as I reached it. I light my lighter on the corner, and a small ember start appearing on Train Man. The once cocky man with dead eyes now grew to have more life than ever before. As I start burning the corners of the book, ember grew bigger.
From the ground I slowly stand up and grab the knife from the Train Man’s hand and I stab him in the heart. The knife stays in his chest and the fire inside of him turns the Train Man’s eyes to a dark blood red. And right before the Train Man turned to ash, he looks at me, and smiles.
I leave the tree house, not having to worry anymore, and I can finally say goodbye to Train Man.
CRITICS
The story is good, and it does gives me that chilly feels, as if someone was about to choke me. The concept of the Train Man himself, however, kind of reminds me of Freddy from "A Nightmare On Elm Street", and the ending itself reminded me of Harry Potter's "Chambers of Secret", in where you must destroy the book. I never cared about that part, I mean, authors need some references to motivate their writings, but one thing that pisses me off while reading this is the grammatical error in the story. I changed some part in my summary, but I still put some part in where they made errors, like "He grabbed my neck from the back of my neck and held me up like a prize". How can there be a neck from the behind of your neck?! And don't let me start on the error usage of past and present tense of the story. I normally would ignore such errors, but as I continue reading, more of 'em are made and this literally ruins the whole story AND changed the whole meaning. I mean, I am here to tell you how good your literature skills are NOT becoming an English teacher who has a damn hard time trying to understand what my student is trying to write. Still, I re-read the whole thing only to check back the errors and read it normally with the errors corrected, and TBH, it is much better with less errors. I could've rated the story higher, but it just doesn't deserve an 8 or 9, yet again, not so embarrassingly boring that I would rate it 4 or 5. So I would say it's an OK story for intermediate Creepypasta lovers.
For full story, CLICK HERE!
(As usual, I'll summarize.)
NOTE
The main character is a first person "I"
PLOT
I opened the old door where I used to grew up, and I can smell the dust rushing in my nose. The sound of boards creaking as I walk in, this brings back both good and bad memories, only a reminder of Train Man.
Once when I was a young boy, I used to live in this old house.
One day, me and my little brother decided to investigate an old tree house that my mom told me about. It was built by my uncle while he was out in the middle of the woods.
 |
| Just added this to give some feels |
We climbed the ladders which leads to the house, and we start investigating. There were lots of magazines on the desk, and my brother would find this place like a Heaven for us to hang out. Upon searching, I noticed uncle's private notebook.
During our investigation, we could hear our mother's beckoning call from the woods, telling us to go home. As we walked back, I heard a soft rustle behind me, and to my reaction, I looked back. I tried scanning any changes that happened, and that was until I looked up at the tree house. In the small window hole I saw a glimpse of a man more than three times my age staring down at me hauntingly. Dark, dead black eyes, wild hair held only back by a train conductor’s hat, and dark green disgusting teeth, that slowly grew into an grisly smile. My foot got stuck on a tree's root, and I ran as fast as possible, not looking back at that devilish figure.
As I got home, I told mom what I saw, and she got mad and told me to never say such things. Even my brother didn't believe me. I got no support after going through that traumatizing moment, and I feared that I might've gone crazy.
Fear blocked me from almost anything, but my curiosity grew, and I wanted to know who the man in uncle's tree house was. So I went back, and as I entered the house, my first instinct was to look at uncle's notebook.
I pulled open to a random page and saw writings my uncle had made. They explained things he did and saw, dreams he had and wanted, and told a tale of an experience not so different from my own. My uncle wrote that he and his friend Toby saw a homeless man sitting on the railroad tracks in the road, drinking beer and rambling to himself. They stared at him curiously and laughed when he began to doze off. When he saw them, he got aggressive, and threw his bottle at them. They sprinted away back into the forest and went back to the safety of my uncle’s house.
My uncle called him the Train Man, which is where I first thought to call him that. A simple name, I thought, for a man so eerily frightening. At the time I had no proof that the man my uncle saw was the man that I saw in the tree house, but I knew that he was in fact, the Train Man. While reading the notebook I heard a raspy cough and distorted laugh beneath the tree house.
I start panicking, and dare not look into the exit hole and start looking for an object of protection, and found a pocket knife. As the noise gets closer, all I could do is crouching in the corner. The noise of the man climbing the ladders, the noise of those creaky board. I could feel him standing next to me with his disgusting aroma, but dare not open my eyes.
He grabbed my neck from the back of my neck and held me up like a prize. He gripped my throat hard and stopped me from breathing. He pulled my face level with his own and croaked, LOOK AT ME BOY, I AM THE TRAIN MAN! He bellowed this again, and again, until I finally sprung my eyes open and stared into his dead black marbles.
KNOW ME, FEAR ME, AND ALWAYS REMEMBER ME! The Train Man’s voice transferred onto my face like a blanket of musk and forced me to cough fearfully. WHO AM I?? The Train Man said this with the look of absolute hate in his eyes, with the face of death, claiming another soul. WHO…. AM… I???? ANSWER ME NOW, BOY! I slowly told him what he wanted to hear, what I dreaded having to say, the Train Man…
The Train Man’s evil grin returned and he dropped me to the floor with a thud. I began to cry deeply and shut my eyes again.
...
I ran back home with the notebook, and promised to never come back again.
20 years have passed, and now I'm back to my old house I used to grew up in. I went to the tree house and start digging up to look for his notebook and I start reading. Nothing concerning the Train Man was here, or on the next page, or the
next. I keep flipping through the book until I get to a part where a
picture is drawn. It’s the Train Man, sitting against a tree drinking
and holding a knife. Behind the tree a pair of small legs are jutting
out, and a pool of blood is beginning to form from them.
"The other day, when me and Michelle were walking down to the lake, this boy named Jared asked us if we wanted to see something cool. Michelle was kinda nervous about it but I told her it would be fine and we walked with Jared to the railroad tracks that entered the forest. We walked along it for a few minutes before Jared told us to go this way, and he made us go into this one part of the woods. I started to get a little scared when he said this, but I didn’t want Jared to think I was a baby so I went along with him. After a minute Jared told us to be quiet, and showed us this small wooden house on the ground. We slowly creeped over to it and Jared told us to look into the a small window on the outside of it. Inside on a small dirty mattress was the Train Man that me and Toby saw before, drinking on the railroad tracks. I don’t know why but this scared me and I almost started to cry. Jared then pulled out a match book and lit one, then tossed it into the window. Jared told us to run over and wait behind a tree. We did, and after a moment smoke began to come out through the windows. Jared could not stop laughing, and Michelle started to cry. I didn’t know what to do so I just started to grab Michelle’s arm and slowly back away. Suddenly, the Train Man ran out of his hut with a knife in his hand and started to look around. Jared’s laughing and Michelle’s crying gave us away immediately, and he ran over to us. Me and Michelle ran away, but Jared just stood there laughing. Michelle ran away to the train tracks, but I stayed and watched. The Train Man grabbed Jared by the throat and slammed him hard against a tree. Jared’s feet were kicking but he did not scream, I could not see his face but I assumed he was as scared as I was, The Train Man then rummaged through Jared’s pockets and pulled out the match book, and crumpled it in his hands. The Train Man, still holding Jared by the throat, carried him over to the burning hut and tossed him inside. The Train Man, wielding his knife, then went inside after him. When I saw this I ran away back towards the train tracks and Michelle."
Reading this, I realized that the Train Man is just another homeless man, living in the forest. But during my childhood time, he was an evil spirit.
Through the book there were multiple tales of encounters with him,
written by both my mother and my uncle. My mother had known about the
Train Man, I thought. I flipped to the very last written page in the
notebook and found something my mother had written. It was written very
sloppily and was almost illegible.
"Adam is dead, THE TRAIN MAN KILLED HIM, we went back to see what
happened to Jared and we saw the Train Man’s dead body in the ash of his
hut and HE CAME BACK TO LIFE. He got up from the ground and killed him
with his knife. I couldn’t do anything, he was so big! I’m telling mom
and everyone that he drowned in the lake and the river took him away.
Nobody would ever believe me! I’m writing this so somebody knows, so
somebody wont get killed by the Train Man!"I close the notebook and stand up. It’s dark now, the moon is out and full, and the heavy night is making itself very aware to me. I leave the house and head towards the woods, where the Train Man lives.
As I reach the tree house, I hear the all too familiar sounds of the Train Man’s laughter filled me with an ancient dread. I turn around and there he stands, the same dirty train conductor’s outfit, the same old hat barely holding back the agelessly unkept hair, and the same evil smirk, shining brightly beneath those two pitch black eyes. I quickly rush to the floor where the notebook lay and retrieve it. The Train Man pulls out his knife from his overalls and puts it in a slashing position. I take the notebook and turn the lighter on beneath it. This does little to slow the Train Man down, and he slices my left arm, making me drop the notebook to the floor, and making me fall backwards. He did his best to keep me away from the notebook. The Train Man begins to laugh loudly at me and then bellows, YOU CAN’T KILL THE TRAIN MAN BOY! NO ONE CAN KILL THE TRAIN MAN!
I ignored and kept reaching for the book, and as I reached it. I light my lighter on the corner, and a small ember start appearing on Train Man. The once cocky man with dead eyes now grew to have more life than ever before. As I start burning the corners of the book, ember grew bigger.
From the ground I slowly stand up and grab the knife from the Train Man’s hand and I stab him in the heart. The knife stays in his chest and the fire inside of him turns the Train Man’s eyes to a dark blood red. And right before the Train Man turned to ash, he looks at me, and smiles.
I leave the tree house, not having to worry anymore, and I can finally say goodbye to Train Man.
CRITICS
The story is good, and it does gives me that chilly feels, as if someone was about to choke me. The concept of the Train Man himself, however, kind of reminds me of Freddy from "A Nightmare On Elm Street", and the ending itself reminded me of Harry Potter's "Chambers of Secret", in where you must destroy the book. I never cared about that part, I mean, authors need some references to motivate their writings, but one thing that pisses me off while reading this is the grammatical error in the story. I changed some part in my summary, but I still put some part in where they made errors, like "He grabbed my neck from the back of my neck and held me up like a prize". How can there be a neck from the behind of your neck?! And don't let me start on the error usage of past and present tense of the story. I normally would ignore such errors, but as I continue reading, more of 'em are made and this literally ruins the whole story AND changed the whole meaning. I mean, I am here to tell you how good your literature skills are NOT becoming an English teacher who has a damn hard time trying to understand what my student is trying to write. Still, I re-read the whole thing only to check back the errors and read it normally with the errors corrected, and TBH, it is much better with less errors. I could've rated the story higher, but it just doesn't deserve an 8 or 9, yet again, not so embarrassingly boring that I would rate it 4 or 5. So I would say it's an OK story for intermediate Creepypasta lovers.
For full story, CLICK HERE!
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