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Prologue: 80 years earlier1,498 words
Chapter 1: the Nightmare Begins2,024 words
Chapter 2: Fear and Trembling1,392 words
Chapter 3: A Nightmare on Sodor1,048 words
Chapter 4: a Gateway to the Past1,675 words
Chapter 5: Agony of the Damned1,588 words
Chapter 6: of Gods and Daemons: the Battle of Brendam1,475 words
Epilogue: Legacy of Evil315 words
Credits236 words

Chapter 4: a Gateway to the Past

Thomas took in the sight of this engine before him, with a crazed glint in its eyes and a crazy grin stretching across its face.

"So," he said, "you are real."

"The night is also foggy," the engine replied. "Care to state the obvious any further?"

"Who are you?" Thomas asked, scared but trying his best not to show it.

The engine smiled once more. "Of course. "My name is Timothy. I worked here a long time before you did, so it's no wonder the people and engines of this island either don't know me or forgot I existed."

"You can hardly blame me for that!" Thomas replied. "I hadn't even heard of you until a few weeks ago. That story and the stories in the archives are the only records that you ever existed. But I understand how you feel. As you probably know, I'm an E2, and not only that I'm the last of the class. I have no siblings, and in a sense I am alone... and yet you don't see me behaving like a psychopath!"

Timothy grinned again. "Perfect. That's right Thomas, latch onto all that pain and anger, the feeling of loneliness, the memory of ungrateful humans who promised you everything, then stab you in the backplate when you need them most!"

"No!" Thomas replied. "I refuse to stoop to your level. There is nothing more to be said to your story. You decided to end your life and took 80 odd people with you. How can you justify that?"

This seemed to finally blow Timothy's fuse, as he lurched forward and crashed into Thomas. "Shut up! Do not legislate on things you don't understand! You have no idea what I've been through, the pain I've endured, none of it! The voices of the driver, the screams of the coaches and the passengers, the very moments their lives ended- I've been carrying all that around for over 80 years. You have never seen such things. So how can you say you understand me at all?"

"Then tell me the truth!" Thomas exclaimed. "If you truly want me to understand what happened the night in 1965, tell me your backstory. The only way we can move on is through understanding each other. Timothy, please, tell me! It's the only way to put your soul at rest!"

There was a pause, and Timothy closed his eyes. Seconds later, he reopened them, but any sign of craziness or physchopathy were gone.

Meanwhile, Luster Dawn had gone in search of help, and wandered across the fields trying to find an inhabited building. The wind continued to blow quite nastily, and she shivered as she walked. "Perhaps wearing a skirt today wasn't the smartest of ideas," she said to herself, as her legs now felt quite cold. She trudged across the field, the cold air still getting to her, until she decided to shelter in a nearby phone box.

A few seconds passed, and the fog seemed to briefly lift. Luster Dawn reopened the door and stepped outside to look about.

"Hello?" said a ghostly voice.

"Hello?" Luster Dawn replied. "Is somebody there?"

She would find out soon enough, as she walked along. She turned a corner, and standing before her was the ghostly figure First Base had seen. "Bah!" she cried, in shock. "Oh, sorry, you just gave me a bit of a fright standing there."

"I have that effect on people, I seem," the ghost replied, looking glum. "I guess it should come as no surprise. I am dead, after all."

"You're a ghost?" Luster Dawn asked. She wasn't scared; she was actually quite fascinated. "Who were you originally?"

"My real name was Sarah Gainsborough," the ghost replied. "But most people called me Starlight Glimmer. I lived here about 80 years ago. If I were alive now, I'd be 95."

"What did you do in life?"

Starlight nodded. "Amongst other things, I worked on the railway. Back in the 1960s, things were very desparate, and the line was on the verge of closure. People thought I was mad taking a job with British Rail, but I did it to support my family. You see, the Island's economy was in a much weaker state back then than it is now. You didn't have all the tourist jobs and railway enthusiasts coming, and for the most part things were badly run down. We did what we had to in order to survive, and the mainland wasn't looking much better either, what with all the Beeching cuts going on."

"I don't mean to sound insensitive, but... which engine did you drive?"

"His name was Timothy. He was a red tank engine with a gentle smile and good manner. We got on very well. But I never had any clue he would try to kill himself, let alone take me with him."

Luster Dawn looked shocked. "What happened?"

Thomas looked shocked. "What happened?" he asked. "Tell me!"

Timothy looked up. All signs of that sickening glee were gone. In its place was sadness, and soul crushing guilt. "The truth of that last day was never known, as although people did survive the crash, none of them knew what I was feeling, or why I did what I did. It was to remove him from this world."

"Who's 'him'?" Thomas asked.

Timothy began to explain. "I suppose an introduction is in order. My original identity wasn't Timothy. I was originally number 5521, built at Swindon in 1927. One of the first of the 4575 subclass of Small Prairies, I spent the first 20 years or so of my working life in the West Country on branch lines in and around Devon, being based out of Newton Abbot shed. Whilst there, I recall meeting a Pannier Tank who waddled as he ran along."

Thomas' face lit up. "He lives here on the island! His name's Duck!"

Timothy sighed, then continued. "In 1958, I was transferred to the North Western Region, a portion of the network that was running almost exclusively on hand me down rolling stock and engines. The company was in a right state, and the buildings and track needed mending. It wasn't like now where it's all been lovingly restored to how it would have been. Back then weeds grew between the rails, the sleepers were rotten, and passenger numbers were dwindling. With the increasingly dilapidated rolling stock, it's no wonder the passengers went by bus."

Thomas looked shocked. "That sounds awful."

"As bad as it was, the straw that broke the camel's back was yet to come," Timothy continued. "We weren't cared for. My parts weren't replaced, I couldn't get steam up, and my brakes didn't work properly. The Regional Controller that BR had assigned hated us. It was almost as if he was solely interested in syphoning off as much money as he could to Head Office and then get the entire North Western system closed. As we got weaker, he demanded more and more out of us, breaking up any engine that couldn't work." The engine closed his eyes as a tear rolled out of one. "I can still hear the screams of those he had hacked to death. If they had been humans, he'd have been jailed for murder. And yet the genocide that humans perpetuated went on unnoticed and unpunished." He paused again. "I decided that I had to stop him. The only way this would end was to get rid of him and prevent the cruel murders of my fellow engines. So, one night, a docker's train was waiting to depart, and the Controller boarded the train alongside them as he had to get back to Knapford. This was my only chance, so I set off as if everything was normal. I believe you know the rest."

"That's awful!" Luster Dawn said. "But there's one thing I don't understand. Why are you a ghost?"

"You're not the first to ask that," Starlight Glimmer replied. "When I died, my body was never buried, although there is a tombstone, and as a consequence my soul is still bound to this world. I've watched my friends grow up, have families of their own, wither, grow old, and die, whilst I just go on and on. They say that only the dead have seen the end of suffering. If only that were true. In order for my soul to finally be free, you need to destroy Timothy, and then bury my body. It's the only way to make this nightmare end."

Thomas sat in silence as Timothy finished his story. "Timothy," he said. "I understand the pain you felt and the problems you faced. Southampton Docks was very similar in the 1960s, and I only survived the cutter's torch due to a clerical error. But you can't live the rest of your life like this. All the anger and hate will consume you until you are nothing but a bitter shell. Please, work with me Timothy."

Timothy looked up, the cold grin back on face. "No," he said. "Not while my work is unfinished."

"What?"

"You don't understand, do you? That controller had a very young son who was taken by his mother and uncle to America. Whilst there, many years later, the son had a daughter, and she in turn had a son of her own. They recently returned to Sodor, and now I have a chance to finish what I started and end their cursed bloodline. They will suffer with me, and eventually so will everybody!"

Thomas was left with a horrified realisation as Luster Dawn climbed onto the footplate. He suddenly remembered a throwaway remark that Luster Dawn had made earlier.

" A passenger service fell through a defective bridge and landed in the Ell River, killing almost everybody on board, Azure's grandfather being one of them."

"Luster, you have to call First Base now!" Thomas snapped.

"What? Why?" Luster asked.

"He's in serious danger!" Thomas replied. Luster Dawn's jaw fell open in shock when she realised what Thomas was getting at.

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