After last night’s encounter with the group of thugs, I was quite shaken. I didn’t know, however, what day three would hold in store for me…

I still kept to my people watching, and I still made up stories about my few lonely companions during the quieter hours, but not in an overly obvious and annoying fashion.

That’s how I came to notice a certain woman. She was middle-aged, wore a long skirt and a blue woolen sweater, and kept her hair tied in a ponytail.

At first glance, there was nothing wrong with her or her behavior. She was just another normal passenger, getting on the tram at point A and getting off at point B.

Things turned strange, however, when I noticed her entering the tram again at a later station further along the line.

At first I thought I was mistaken, and my eyes were playing tricks on me. This was a big city. Many people lived here, and I was sure some of them looked similar.

Yet as I watched her, I noticed the same skirt, the same sweater, and even the pony tail. No, this was, without a doubt, the same person.

This was impossible. How in the hell had she got here within ten minutes, a good kilometer from where she’d gotten off?

I couldn’t help but shiver, as I watched her getting off again a few stations later, and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when she reentered the tram yet again, after a good fifteen.

In total, she entered the tram on seven entirely different locations throughout the city in about an hour and a half.

She was, however, not the only one. There were others like her, almost a dozen in total.

One was an older man, about fifty years of age. He wore a suit, carried a briefcase, and I saw him a total of five times.

Some were children, just laughing children who entered the tram on their own, then left it, and then entered it again a few stations later.

They only ever appeared when the tram was empty or almost empty, at least that’s when I caught sight of them. Whenever I did, however, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Yet they did nothing strange, never looked at me or even approached me. They just rode the tram.

At one point, my eyes met those of an older woman during her fourth ‘iteration,’ as I came to call it, but she didn’t even bat an eye, and gave me no attention at all.

Still, this was one of the most unsettling things I’d noticed so far, and I tried my best to stay clear of these people.

Another strange passenger was a young man, dressed entirely in black.

I first noticed him in the early evening hours. He entered the tram and stayed on it, just like I did. For long hours, he just sat there, in the same seat.

At times, he stared outside, but at others, he watched the people around him, and occasionally, I even found him staring my way. When he did, an unexplainable wave of fear washed over me, and I couldn’t help but squirm in my seat. He gave me the feeling of being a trapped animal, of being prey.

The reason was his face. He wasn’t merely staring, but grinning, always grinning a comically wide grin that almost divided his face. He wasn’t grinning at anyone, however. Instead, he seemed just to grin to himself. It was the strangest thing.

At one point, I watched as he leaned forward, pushing his face so close to the woman sitting next to him, it almost touched hers.

I noticed how uncomfortable she was, but she never spoke up. She just sat there, squirming in her seat nervously, almost as if she didn’t see the guy.

She was, however, far from his only victim. He did the same to countless other passengers, and none of them called him out on his behavior.

The longer this went on, the longer I watched what he was doing, the more often I found him staring at me.

As much as I told myself to ignore him, to not attract attention; I just couldn’t. I was driven by the strangest sense of curiosity. This guy, whoever he was , or… whatever he was, he was just wrong.

It was shortly past midnight when I noticed the change. For the first time, the guy wasn’t grinning to himself anymore. No, now he was grinning right at me. I saw how he leaned forward in his seat, his hands on his seat, as if he was about to push himself upward at any moment.

I tried my best to stare outside, to ignore him, but whenever I took a sideway glance, he was still there, still grinning at me and each time, his grin seemed to have grown wider.

Eventually, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I was about to get up, to leave my trusty row of seats behind and flee to the back of the tram. Then I stopped. The strangest of feelings washed over me, one that told me I should stay right where I was. Somehow, I knew that if I were to get up right now, he’d get me.

It sounds ridiculous, but I knew. I saw the anticipation on his face, the way his feet shuffled over the ground and his posture, ready to pounce on me the moment I’d get up.

Finally, after half an hour of this game of sitting duck had passed, he just got up and left the tram.

Outside, he simply walked off without so much as looking back at me.

Even now, I’ve got no clue what the hell was wrong with that guy. Maybe it was just some asshole trying to fuck with me, but somehow, I feel, he was something far worse.

Yet, as terrifying as this half-hour encounter was, it shouldn’t be the most terrifying thing I’d witness on day three.

It was later that night, as I sat in my seat, unable to fall asleep, that I noticed the first change in scenery.

I told myself it was because it was night time and because of the darkness, but I’d ridden this damned tram for two and a half days by now. I knew the area it passed through. Hell, I knew what buildings were at what station!

Station 17: a giant mall.

Station 44: an old hardware store.

And so on.

Yet that night, I occasionally saw new areas, areas that were… different.

At one point, the tram passed through a street which was lined by nothing but giant, derelict tower blocks. Before long, even the tram tracks themselves seemed to deteriorate.

The tram rambled on through this forlorn area, shaking slightly, without ever stopping at any station. We must’ve been there for at least ten minutes without ever stopping at a station, which I know is impossible. On the way back, we never passed that area again, almost as if it never existed.

At other times, the tram took bends and went around corners that shouldn’t be there, and drove on through constricted, half-hidden streets and alleys that seemed almost too small for it to pass.

Whenever we reached one of these strange places, I couldn’t help but stare outside, strangely curious about them. Some streets were so narrow, the tram was only a few inches away from the walls of the building, allowing me to steal glances through open doors and windows.

What I saw was… utterly surreal, and made me question if I was even awake, or if all of this was nothing but a weird dream, conjured by two nights of barely catching any sleep and perpetually being stuck in a tram.

In one window, I was greeted by four people. They weren’t just inside their apartment, but were leaning out the window, their faces almost pressed against the passing tram. Their eyes were empty, their faces without any emotion. Yet when they were right beside me, I couldn’t help but inch away from the tram’s windows, afraid they might do… something.

In another window, one belonging to a tiny, inconspicuous building, I saw a giant hall that seemed without end. I saw only the floor, but no walls or ceiling. It just continued on seemingly endlessly, and was much, much too large for the building that contained it. Yet from the far back, off in the darkness of the most distant parts of that hall, I thought I saw eyes watching me.

Eventually, the tram approached a station in one such area, and then came to a halt.

Outside, I saw a strange figure. At first, I thought it was a drunk person, or maybe someone disabled, given their strange posture and gait. Then my eyes adjusted, and I realized something was entirely wrong with that figure.

It was some sort of deformed… thing. Its limbs were bent at strange angles, seemed to have too many joints in them and sprouted from places they shouldn’t.

As the tram stood there, it crooked its head slightly in my direction. Then its head pushed forward, its neck stretching further and further, much further than should be possible.

Sweat broke out all over my body as I found the ghastly creature measuring me up and down. This time, it wasn’t just fear that came over me, but full on panic. My body started shaking uncontrollably, and I had to cling to the seat in front of me to somehow keep the panic at bay, to not freak out completely at the surreal sight outside.

Slowly, the thing moved, approached the tram door on its long, spidery limbs and I already saw it entering the tram, saw it coming for me.

As it took these few select steps, I hoped, prayed, it would stay where it was. I think in the state I was in, I spoke, probably yelled those words repeatedly through the empty tram. Until, thankfully, the doors closed, and we left the waking nightmare behind.

For the next minutes, I just sat in my seat, my eyes closed, my knees below my chin and rocking back and forth like a scared little child. Eventually, when I opened my eyes again, all was normal, and the tram continued on its usual route, and did so for the rest of the night.

By now, it’s early morning. I haven’t been able to sleep yet, I couldn’t. Whenever I was about to doze off, I was afraid I’d end up at some unfamiliar surreal location again, and this time, the creature would actually enter the tram.

Instead, I spent the last hour typing this all out to calm myself down.

To be honest, I thought about giving up, to just get off and call it quits after what had happened. But then, I thought about it. I was on day three, on day freaking three. If I stopped now, my friends would never let it go.

Most important of all, however, as scary as these experiences were, they were also strangely fascinating. If I’d got off now, I’d probably regret it and wonder what else I might have seen on the Long Ride.

So I guess I’ll keep going for a while longer. See you all tomorrow.

Well, the second day of my little journey is over, the one I came to call the Long Ride, and boy, do I have to tell you a few things. Things took a turn for the worse, but more on that later.

After sitting in a tram for over twenty-four hours, I realized just how beautiful my city truly is. It’s breathtaking, full of old architecture, nice little parks, and a riverside panorama few other cities can compare to.

That morning, I actually took my very first toilet break. I don’t know how I lasted that long, but let me tell you, the moment I went, it was heaven.

The early hours of the day went by as usual. Once again, the tram was overcrowded, and a few times I noticed people staring at me angrily for not getting off my seat or at least moving my giant backpack aside.

Well, tough luck. This row is my home for this entire week. Before you ask, yes, I specifically chose where I sat. Second tram car, third row from the back.

The first interesting to happen that day was an encounter with an older man.

He must’ve entered the tram between nine and ten in the morning. I only remember because I’d just taken another short video for my friends, and when I looked back up from the phone, there he was, sitting only a few rows ahead of me. It seemed almost as if he’d just appeared out of nowhere.

Must’ve snuck in at the last stop, I reasoned.

Strangely enough, he just sat there as the tram continued on to the end of the line station, and remained seated as the tram turned around and went back the way it came from.

I couldn’t help but smile a little, but was also a bit confused. Were there other people who did the same dumb thing I did? Just riding the tram back and forth for no reason?

Well, who knows, maybe he’s just a bored old man with nothing to do. Maybe he just enjoys tram rides or the scenery, or, hell, he doesn’t mind getting on the tram early and taking a brief detour before reaching his destination.

I tried not to be bothered by him, but whenever I looked up from my book, he was still there, going back and forth and back again with me.

As I munched on another sandwich and some crackers, I couldn’t help but stare at the back of his head. It was two in the afternoon, and by now, he must’ve been on the tram for at least four hours. What the hell was he doing?

I’m not going to lie. He unnerved me a little.

A few minutes later, he got up, and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was about to get off.

Instead, he came and took a seat near me and turned his bald head towards me. I noticed that something was wrong with him.

His eyes looked glassy, almost hazy. The weirdest part, however, was his outfit. It just… didn’t fit. Not on his body, I mean, but in the twenty-first century. It reminded me of something I’d once seen in an old family photo album, a style popular multiple decades ago, long even before the reunion.

“Interesting to see someone here for as long as me,” he finally said.

I just stared at him, surprised by the gentle, well-meaning tone of his voice.

“Oh yeah, it’s… I guess a dare between friends? To see how long I can last.”

“Young people these days,” he mused. “But I sure did my share of stupid things back in my days.”

“How come you’re on so long yourself? Are you enjoying the ride, the scenery?”

He was quiet, and for a few moments, he just stared outside, watching the city pass by.

“Well, you aren’t wrong, young man. I’ve been on here for quite some time, longer than I’d ever have guessed, but it’s interesting to see things change. New lines, new stations. Feels just like yesterday that I rode on line five to the main station…”

What he just said made no sense. There was no line five. Sure, there’d been one, but it was discontinued over two decades ago.

“Wasn’t line five discontinued?”

“Ah, yes, you’re right. But once you’ve been here for as long as me, you sometimes forget these types of things.”

“What do you…? How long have you been here?”

For some reason, I suddenly felt cold. Something didn’t add up. Not just his hazy eyes or his outfit, but the things he said.

“Much too long, young man, but that’s just how it is for some of us. We can ride on and on, but we’ll never reach our destination.”

“The hell’s that supposed to-?”

“You should be careful, young man. This place, like any others has its dangers, especially for those who stay on for too long,” he said, getting up.

I said nothing. I could only watch as he walked on and entered the tram car ahead of me.

Then, for only a single second, what I saw changed. It was only for the blink of an eye, but it made me cringe in terror and I felt myself break into a cold sweat.

What had been a nicely dressed older man before now turned into a mangled, twisted corpse. Its upper body was caved in, almost torn apart. Its arms were dangling at its side, broken entirely. The worst, however, were its legs. They were nothing but a mass of ground flesh and bone.

Then it was over, and once again, I saw nothing but an old man. He turned to me once more, a well-knowing, sad look on his face before he gave me a little nod as if to say ‘be careful.’

Right at that moment, my phone vibrated, notifying me about a new message. I jerked and almost dropped it before I turned back towards the old man, or rather, where he’d been.

He was gone.

I scanned the train ahead of me, then behind me, but I saw nothing. He’d just… vanished.

I couldn’t help but shiver. What the hell had just happened? I thought about the mangled, twisted version of him I’d seen, the things he’d talked about. Had I just been visited by a freaking… ghost?

For the rest of the day, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. In the afternoon, the tram filled up again, then emptied out before the process repeated itself in the evening.

As it turned late, I settled back in my seat, put on some low music, and prepared myself for another couple hours of rest, hopefully a few more than yesterday.

As I sat there, I watched the few other late night passengers on the tram with me. In my mind, I gave them names and made up stories about them.

Right there, a few seats ahead of me, sat Jenny, a young woman in her mid-twenties who was on her way home after a late shift at the nursing home. Further ahead sat old Rupert, a bachelor in his early sixties who’d just enjoyed a performance at the state theater with a group of friends.

It was strange, but I almost felt a connection with these people, as if they were my people, the citizens of Tramonia, a nation comprising nothing but this one lone tram, going back and forth forever.

A few minutes later, a group of guys got on, guys who were clearly drunk. They were a loud, rowdy bunch, walking up and down the tram car, howling obscenities, and dangling from handrails like the idiots they were.

Almost unconsciously I felt myself drawn to them, and couldn’t help but watch them. They were breaking the laws of Tramonia, I thought, and would need to be punished.

As I sat there, half-nodding off, staring at them, I tried to come up with ideas on how Tramonia would handle crime and how those who’d committed them would be punished.

I didn’t realize that one of them had long noticed me staring at them. His expression wasn’t normal, not one of mild curiosity. No, he looked pissed, or at least up for trouble.

“The fuck you staring at asshole!?” he called out to me.

I jerked up in my seat, averting my eyes, but I could already hear them coming my way.

Shit, now I’d done it.

“Yo, bro, what’s up?” one of them brought out as he sat down in front of me.

I didn’t say a thing, and instead tried my best to ignore them.

“Hey, we’re talking to you!” his friend spat at me.

“Nothing, just on my way home,” I mumbled.

“Oh yeah, is that so?” the one in front of me said in a sing-song voice.

I gave him another ‘yeah,’ and tried my best to stare out the window. This promptly landed me a slap against the back of the head.

“What the fuck are you-?”

I couldn’t even finish the curse because one of them grabbed me by the throat, raising his fist.

“You think you can fuck with us, asshole?”

Right at that moment, the driver’s voice could be heard via the intercom, telling them to knock it off.

The guys stared at each other in surprise, but didn’t move, and neither did they release me.

A second announcement by the driver followed soon after, this one more serious. He assured them he was ready to stop them tram here and now, and call the cops should they not back down immediately.

Finally, I was released, and after throwing me another set of insults, the three of them walked away. A few stations later, they thankfully got off the tram for good, but nothing without sending me a few more angry glances.

When we pulled into the end of the line station, a place where trams would occasionally power down during the late hours of the night, the driver approached me.

“Hey there, not to bother you, but I’ve noticed you’ve been on the tram for quite a while. What exactly are you up to?”

“Well, I’m trying to get home, but-“

“You’ve been trying to get home for the past five hours?”

Shit, he got me.

“All right, no. To be honest, it’s a bet,” I started, giving him an embarrassed little laugh.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.

“I told my friends I’d be able to stay on the tram for an entire week without getting off.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, then furrowed his brow before he spoke again.

“That’s the dumbest freaking thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, it really is,” I agreed.

“Well, not like I can kick you off for something like this. You’ve got a ticket on you, right?”

“Sure thing, got myself a weekly pass just for the Long Ride.”

Once more, he raised his eyebrows, and I was quick to tell him it was the name I came up with.

“Well, it’s dumb, really freaking dumb, but as long as you don’t cause any trouble, that’s it. Just try to stay clear of guys like the ones before.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

With that, the conversation was over and the driver went outside to have a smoke or two.

About half an hour later, the tram started up again, and the ride continued.

That’s day number two, guys. See you all tomorrow.

I came up with the idea for the Long Ride a few days ago. My friends and I had met up on Friday evening to hang out, share some stories, and, of course, to have a few beers.

Before long, I ended up completely plastered. As I sat there, trying my best to not fall off my chair, my friend said something that got the gears in my brain turning, albeit slowly.

“I’m sure I can do it,” I brought out drunkenly.

“Do what?” one of my friends, Alex, asked, turning to me.

“What that Punchy guy did, the thing Derek just mentioned, about riding the subway back and forth.”

“It’s Pynchon, dude,” Derek corrected me with a sigh. “And he didn’t do it. He just wrote about it in one of his books.”

“Yeah, whatever, but I’m sure I can do it, too! And I can do it for an entire week,” I slurred.

“The hell you even talking about?”

“Riding the tram back and forth without getting off,” I said.

“Why’d you even do that?”

“Because I fucking can!”

“This has got to be the dumbest thing you ever came up with…” Derek mumbled.

That’s how it started. The next I woke up with a head-splitting headache and utterly hungover, but, of course, I remembered what I’d said, and, of course, I was set on doing it.

When I hit up my friends via WhatsApp and told them I was going to do it, they were less than enthusiastic, and didn’t even seem to care.

I was, however, and I spent the rest of the weekend getting ready for the Long Ride. I’d spend an entire week on the tram without getting off!

Well, almost getting off, I thought, and came up with a simple set of rules, which I promptly shared with my friends in a newly created WhatsApp group.

First, no getting off the tram, not to go home, and not to get supplies. The only exception was to go to the toilet, which I only allowed myself to do at one specific station.

I also told my friends I’d update them with a short video every hour, so they’d know I was still on the tram.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how right my friends were. This really was the dumbest thing I’d ever come up with. Yet I was also very, very excited about what might happen.

After what happened today, what I saw, and what else I might see over the course of this week, I decided to share this journey with you guys.

This morning, at 8am I entered my tram line of choice, line 4. It was by far the single longest line, going from one end of the city, all the way to the other, a single one-way trip lasting roughly an hour and a half.

I also made sure to come prepared and stocked up on pretty much anything I might need. I’d gotten my Kindle ready, a couple of books, three fully charged power banks, enough food and water to hopefully last me a week, and a single change of clothes just in case. All of this, I’d put away in a gigantic camping backpack half the size of a person.

In the early morning, the city’s trams are a crowded hell, filled to the brim with people going to work and students on their way to school and university.

Having been lucky enough, I found myself a seat and settled down with my giant backpack. Then I put in my headphones and blasted music into my ear to drown out the general bustle around me.

That morning, nothing strange happened, and I was quite happy when the tram grew emptier, and more people got off until only a dozen remained.

For the first time in a long while, I actually looked at my surroundings, the city, and the other people on the tram. Usually, I was occupied with my phone or my Kindle.

Yet the first hours of the Long Ride went by relatively uneventfully.

The only thing of note that happened was that an older lady sat down near me when I took out one of the many sandwiches I’d prepared for myself. She ranted on and on how I wasn’t allowed to eat on the tram, and pointed at a row of prohibition signs above us.

I simply ignored her and continued eating with a slight grin on my face. Before long, she left me be, shaking her head and went away shaking her head and cursing how us ‘young people don’t know no manners anymore.’

Yea, fuck you too, lady.

She was on the tram for another half hour and for the entire duration, she stared daggers at me. Yet she at least didn’t follow through on her promise to inform the driver and have me kicked off. That would’ve been a rather anticlimactic ending to the Long Ride, I thought, laughing.

The first truly strange thing, and the reason I’m posting this happened in the afternoon. Even now, though, as I’m typing this out, I’m not sure what I saw.

In the afternoon, the tram filled with people once more. Some are students from the nearby university, others people getting of work, and of course, children on their way home after a long day at school.

One group in particular caught my interest. It was a group comprising seven kids, a loud group. They were laughing, yelling at each other, blasting music, and jumping around.

I hated them.

As I watched them with growing disdain, I noticed that two of them looked exactly the same. Brothers, I reasoned, most likely twins.

The behavior of the two, however, couldn’t have been more different.

One of them was as energetic as the rest while the other just stood there, not moving at all, watching the rest, who seemed to ignore him entirely.

At first I thought nothing of it, but the longer I watched him, the stranger the whole thing felt. Then slowly, ever so slowly, the child’s face grew from a dejected, uninterested look to a grin, an almost hungry grin, one directed at his brother.

This went on for almost fifteen minutes. His friends never noticed his weird behavior, and similarly the child never noticed me staring. As much as I told myself he was just a child being a child, I couldn’t help but find the entire situation weird, surreal, even.

That face-splitting grin. It wasn’t normal. This wasn’t what a child should look like. Hell, could look like!

I leaned forward, took out my phone and was about to take a picture when the tram came to a halt. Amongst the general bustle, I lost track of the kids who left the tram amongst a multitude of other people.

Eventually I saw them again, outside at the station. I noticed something right away. By now, there were only six of them, not seven.

One of the brothers, the twins, was gone. The other just stood out there next to his group of friends, not doing anything.

A second later, the tram doors closed. In that instant, the kid’s head jerked in my direction. His eyes were wide, his face still distorted by the same twisted grin, and he was staring right at me, and only me. And then, he opened his mouth, wider than should be possible, and jumped forward, as if to throw himself through the glass.

I cringed back in terror, away from the window, almost toppling over my backpack and sending a handful of supplies onto the floor of the tram. Within moments, and thanks to a few helpful other passengers, I was quick to pick everything up.

When I stared back, however, the kid was gone, and was now hurrying after his group of friends, seemingly without a care in the world.

Even now, I don’t know what to make of this. I told myself he was just being a kid, just being stupid after he’d noticed me staring at him. That face, however, that mouth…

The thing that has me most worried, however, was the number of kids. I knew there had been seven before, and only six of them got off.

For long minutes, I scanned the interior of the tram, trying to find the missing kid and to see if he’d stayed behind on his own. Yet there was no hint of him. He seemed to have vanished.

The general bustle of the day soon evened out as afternoon turned into evening. Then picked up once more when people set out to hit the bars, or to meet up with friends.

I nodded off at about eleven in the evening.

I was jerked awake long past two in the morning when I was almost pulled off my seat. When I opened my eyes, I found myself face to face with some asshole who’d tried to take a hold of my backpack.

Yet I was no idiot. Before I’d gone to sleep, I’d made sure to carefully wrap the backpack’s strap around my arm.

For a few seconds, the guy just stared at me, a dumbfounded look on his face before he realized what was going on. A moment later, when the tram came to a stop, he rushed away and outside.

I could only stare at him. The fucker had just tried to steal my shit.

After he was gone, I checked the backpack’s contents to make sure none of them were gone.

Then I took out my phone and typed this all out. And now, I’m just sitting here, trying to catch some sleep.

If I witness any other strange things, or something else of interest happens, I’ll keep you all updated.

I bet you’re laughing right now. You probably think I’m just some idiot with a terrible sense of direction. To be honest, you’re right about the latter, but I assure you, what I experienced is no laughing matter.

The day I got lost, I was working. Theoretically.

My colleague Frank and I were sent to represent our food company at one of the country’s biggest trade fairs.

It’s not a great job. Our boss couldn’t be bothered to pay for any of the extra baggage that came with it. No compensation for traveling, no extra payment for setting up the stall, nothing.

Even worse, our work hours would be long, as so often. We’d have to man the stall from early morning until late in the evening, pretending to be as happy to be there as the fairs many visitors. All the while, our boss insisted we wore those stupid caps with our company’s name on it.

Yet Frank and I had a little arrangement going to make the best of our shitty situation. He’d been in the trade business for most of his life, and he knew trade fairs inside-out. He knew when things would go slow, especially in the early morning or the late evening. Frank also knew that one person was enough to man the stall during those times. This allowed the other to roam the place, to relax or even take a nap.

The fair we attended that day was huge. It was held in a giant, sprawling complex comprising various halls, out areas, restaurants and much more, all connected by a variety of hallways. It was the equivalent of a small town.

After we’d finished getting the stall ready for business, Frank offered to take care of the morning shift. I was quick to agree.

I’d been wanting to have a look around ever since I arrived. It wasn’t a luxury we could usually afford since we were trapped in our stall for the fair’s entire duration.

What can I say? I like food, especially meat. When I’d seen there was an entire hall centering on exotic meat products, I had to go.

I wished Frank the best of luck with the morning shift, stuff the damned cap in my pocket and set out on my merry way.

Being the idiot I am, I just started walking and promptly got lost. The place really was huge, and even worse, everything looked the same.

After finding and tinkering with one of the interactive map displays, I figured out where I was and where I had to go: hall 19.

It wasn’t long, however, before I got lost again. In frustration, I consulted another map display, and learned I’d somehow taken a wrong turn, and was now in hall 12. Great, that’s in an entirely different wing of the complex.

This time, I snapped a picture of the map and followed it to the letter. Whenever I entered a new hall, I checked the big sign telling me which one it was before I cross-checked my position on the map.

I left hall 12, walked past hall 11, and eventually through hall 9. All that was left was to cross hall 14, and I’d be at my goal.

After crossing hall 14, however, and following another hallway, I suddenly found myself in front of hall 24.

I was dumbfounded and pulled out my phone again. For almost a minute, I went over the map, but as much as I searched, I didn’t find a hall 24. The highest hall number I could find was hall 22.

Still confused, but not sure what to do, I entered hall 24. After a few minutes of stumbling around, I found another map display. The small red dot told me I was indeed in hall 24. I frowned. How the hell was there even a hall 24?

When I compared the map in front of me to the one on my phone, I noticed something right away. The map in front of me was different. It was bigger and several halls seemed to have been added.

For a moment, a strange feeling washed over me and my eyes darted around looking for…I don’t know what. Everything around me was as normal as it could be. Visitors were checking out stalls, talking to sales representatives or indulging in the various samples.

Soon enough, however, something made me look up. So far, I’d hurried over the fair, not giving any of the stalls a better look. Now that I did, and really looked at them, I saw how strange some of the advertised products were.

Right in front of me, a stall was presenting a fruit called Fallarius. By that point, I’d been working in the food industry for a good few years, and I considered myself having a rather solid grasp on it. Yet in all those years, I’d never heard of a Fallarius. When I googled it, I came up with a big fat zero.

With my interest piqued, I approached the stall. Who knows, it might be one of those weird new mix-breeds that had grown in popularity.

What I saw, however, looked unlike anything I’d seen before. It was a slimy, bright orange thing, covered in some sort of spiky fur. The moment I’d made it to the counter, I couldn’t help but reach out for it. When my fingers made contact, however, the thing twitched and produced a disgusting wet squeak.

Cursing, I cringed back, landing me a few annoyed glances and not a few giggles.

For a few more moments, I stood there, staring at the stall and the weird orange fruit. Then, I shrugged, and went on my way.

Phone in hand, and staring at my map, I tried to find my way back.

After following what I assumed to be the same hallway I’d entered from, I should’ve been back in hall 14.

Yet the entire layout was different. A swift look at the hall sign told me I’d somehow ended up in hall 27. How the hell had I even gotten here? I’d followed the same damned hallway!

There should be an exit to my right, leading to an outer area, but it was gone. Instead, I saw another hallway, one that supposedly led to hall 31.

I frowned. How was the place that big? There shouldn’t even be a hall 31. Hell, there shouldn’t be a hall 27, and I should be in freaking hall 14! At least, if I were to trust the map on my phone.

For the next few minutes, I stumbled on, trying my best to ignore the strange, unknown products all around me. Here and there, I stopped, desperately searching for a map display, but saw none.

Suddenly, someone called out to me.

“Can I help you, sir?”

When I turned around, I saw an info desk worker. The woman had stopped a few meters away from me and must’ve noticed my predicament.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I got lost,” I admitted, giving her an embarrassed laugh.

The woman, too, laughed, or rather giggled. It was a strangely throaty giggle. Only now that I focused on her did I see that most of her face was hidden behind strands of thick, dark hair.

“I’ve been trying to find hall 19, but the maps are…”

My voice trailed off. The longer I stared at the woman, the more I felt something was wrong with her. She just stood there, and I watched as she pulled out some sort of electronic contraption.

“Problem with maps,” she started, in a now much quieter voice. “Old versions.”

What the hell was she going on about? This was one of the biggest, most prestigious fairs in the entire country. Why’d they display older versions of the maps and how’d they just add a dozen new buildings to the complex? No, something didn’t add up.

“Where you want to go, sir?” she mumbled in her half-whispering voice.

She still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t bothered to brush her hair aside. As I listened to her, I wondered once more what the hell was wrong with her. Even her way of talking was strange. Her English was over-accentuated, but at the same time, it seemed to take her an effort to bring out each individual word.

“Hall 19,” I brought out eventually.

“Not far,” she simply said.

Then she turned around and began walking. The way she moved was as unnatural as the way she spoke. Instead of stepping forward, she merely shuffled her feet, dragging herself forward as if something was wrong with her legs. It made her entire body move in a strangely jerky motion.

“Coming, sir?” she asked after a few moments, but didn’t bother to even turn around.

Instead of moving, I just stared at her. Somehow, I knew I shouldn’t follow her. This woman wasn’t normal, not normal at all.

“No. I mean…I’m sure I can find it on my own. Thank you very much.”

Not even waiting for an answer, I hurried away. I half-ran past stalls and visitors, and only once I’d made it past a corner did I feel safe enough to relax.

I took a deep breath. Then I looked around, trying to find my bearings. It hadn’t been more than a few seconds when I heard the same half-whispered voice again.

“Can I help you, sir?”

It sounded exactly the same as before. The same over-accentuated English. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw her there, only a few meters behind me, staring at me from behind those thick strands of hair.

I couldn’t help but shiver. Why the hell was she following me?

Instead of saying anything, I turned around, hurried towards a hallway, and fled into another market hall.

Yet this new hall was even more different. Things just didn’t add up. The layout made no sense. Stalls were just placed haphazardly, with no rhyme or reason. When I checked the sign above to find out what hall I’d ended up in, I almost laughed. Instead of a number, all I saw were strange symbols.

The stalls, too, were covered in them. The products presented were even stranger than the Fallarius I’d seen before. They were utterly alien, seemed half alive.

I rushed past stalls and disgusting…things, as an overwhelming feeling of being lost, of not belonging, came over me.

Eventually, I stopped. I hid between two stalls, far away from the bustle of visitors, and closed my eyes. Don’t give into it. You’re okay, idiot. Just calm down.

Yet when I opened my eyes, I realized it wasn’t just the environment that was strange. The people were, too. They were all acting normal, but the way they moved, the way their bodies and limbs worked, was…wrong.

As I stared after a person, I couldn’t help but think that someone had taken them apart and put them back together the wrong way. They were human, yes, but a few details didn’t add up. Their arms seemed backwards, their facial features slightly warped, and their torso…

No, don’t focus on it. Just find your way back. Fuck hall 19, and go back to where you came from.

Taking another breath, I approached one of the strange people around me, a woman. I tried my best to ignore her weird body and strange face.

“Excuse me, I’m trying to get back to hall 7, but I’m-“

I trailed off when I noticed her wide eyes and confused expression. A fearful noise escaped her mouth before she turned around and hurried away.

As she did, I saw the way her legs moved. It looked like there were too many joints in them.

For a moment, I almost lost it because of the surreal situation I found myself in.

Then, I heard a strange, half-whispered, over-accentuated voice from nearby.

Sweat broke out all over my body. It’s a coincidence, I told myself. Yet when I turned around, I saw the same strange woman. This time, however, she wasn’t alone. She was talking to a pair of security guards. Both of them looked as strange as she was, and I shivered when I noticed the same jerky movements.

When she turned in my direction, I ran. I knew I shouldn’t, no, couldn’t be found by her again.

Yet when I looked over my shoulder, I saw that all three of them were looking after me.

I dashed away, turned right, then left, past haphazardly place stalls, not even sure what exactly I was running from. As I did, I pulled out the damned cap and threw away the jacket I was wearing. It wasn’t much, but maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t recognize me.

The layout of the hall, however, was too disorienting. There wasn’t a place to hide, and I knew if I stayed here, it was only a matter before they’d discover me.

Then I saw a tightly knit group of people making their way toward a hallway. I instantly ran in their direction, trying to mingle, to hide between them. When I reached them, however, I saw how wrong they all were. Some were too short, others too tall. Some were shambling around while others were slumped over. In-between, I saw children running here and there. They were moving on all fours, more like animals than human beings. When one of them focused on me, I saw glaring animalistic eyes.

I pulled the cap deeper in my face before I pushed myself past the strange gathering and entered the hallway ahead.

This hallway, however, differed from any I’d seen before. It was small, almost constricting, more a tunnel than anything else. The floor was dirty, and the only light that reached me came from randomly placed yellowish lamps.

As strange as the place was, however, I could do nothing but hurry on. Driven by an almost primal fear of the woman and her companions, I ran on and eventually entered the hall at its end.

I’d barely crossed a few meters when I noticed just how strange the place was.

This wasn’t an orderly market hall. Neither was it one of the disorienting, haphazardly thrown together ones.

No, this place didn’t feel like it had been planned out or even constructed. It looked more like a shanty town, a place that had grown bigger and bigger over a long period.

The ground was as dirty as that of the hallway and a variety of stains and fluids covered it. I saw caskets and boxes everywhere, saw empty cages, and, occasionally, chunks of meat, discarded and left to rot. The air was heavy with a disgustingly sweet smell.

In an instant, I pushed myself past empty crates and behind a stack of boxes.

What the hell was this place?

My eyes darted around, trying to find out where I’d ended up at. Eventually, I found the sign, but the hall’s number was all wrong. At first I didn’t know what it said, but after a few seconds, I could decipher it. It was supposed to be hall 37. The numbers, however, they were backwards and distorted. They looked as if someone who’d never seen numbers before had written them.

That’s when it clicked.

It wasn’t just the sign, it was this entire place. This wasn’t a fair or a market hall. It was an imitation, one that was all wrong.

The people, the things populating this place, they too, were nothing but cheap imitations of the human form. They wore mismatched pieces of clothing, ones that were too small or too big, and shoes that didn’t fit. Their entire form was warped, as if something horrible was hidden below their outfits.

When I focused on one such person, a cold shower went down my spine. My entire body felt cold. A nervous chuckle almost escaped my mouth, and I had to scream at myself not to move until they’d passed.

What I’d thought was a face wasn’t. It was a mask, a drawing of a happy face frozen in a perpetual half-smile. But it was too simple, too cheap and reminded me of a child’s crayon drawing.

The strange person shuffled past my hiding place and then stopped in front of a stall, or something that was supposed to look like one. It was nothing but a crude construction made from wood and rubble, an amalgamation of trash. Hooks dangled from it here and there, each sprouting a chunk of raw, bloodied meat.

I watched as the thing approached a hook. In a swift motion, it tore down one of the dangling chunks and pushed it below its mask.

For a few seconds, it seemed to chew on the meat. Then a long, black tongue slithered out from under the mask and I watched as it licked blood and pinkish goo from its misshapen hand.

A while longer, the creature just stood there, staring at the remaining chunks of meat before it shuffled on.

By now, I saw that a similar creature manned the stall, one wearing another of the crayon-masks. A strange, grunt-like sound escaped its mouth when it saw the empty hook.

I watched in confused horror as it approached something covered by a piece of clothing. It was a cage and for a moment, it moved the cloth aside and seemed to check what was inside. When it did, I heard something: sobbing. The sobbing that was unmistakably that of a human being.

Another grunt. The cloth went back down, and then the creature vanished behind the stall, tearing aside a curtain I hadn’t even known was there. I only saw it for a moment, but I could’ve sworn I saw blood and gore, and something that might once have been a human body.

I barely covered my mouth and drown out the scream that had wanted to escape my mouth.

Then, still huddled between crates and boxes, I realized what those stains, those fluids on the floor all around me, had to be. Blood. Human blood.

Then those chunks of meat…

This time, I could do nothing and threw up right where I was.

Almost instantly, heads turned to where I was, heads sprouting the same smiling crayon-faces. In a frantic motion, I stumbled out from between crates and boxes. Before any of the creatures could react, I ran. I rushed past them, past the non-stalls they’d erected, and then back into the dark, tunnel-like hallway.

I’d almost made it, had almost escaped this hellhole of a place when a hand closed around my arm.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The same words, the same damned words. The same over-accentuated voice. As if to mock me, the strange woman, the thing in front of me, repeated them once more.

“Can I help you, sir?”

This time, I realized what was wrong with her voice.

It wasn’t the half-whispering, neither was it the over-accentuated English. No, it was the voice. It sounded as if someone, or something, was trying to emulate English. Another cheap imitation, another one that was all wrong.

“No, let me go! Let me fucking go!” I screamed at the thing.

I tore at the arm holding me in place, twisted my body, only to be pulled backwards.

At that moment, the hair that had covered the face was thrown aside. For the first time, I could make out its face.

I instantly cringed back. It wasn’t one of the simple crayon-like fakes. No, it looked almost real. Almost. It was a mask, but one made of skin, of lifeless, human skin. And then, something moved, but something that was hidden below. I could see a hidden mouth, could almost see it turn into the outlines of a twisted grin.

I screamed in terror, tried once more to get away, but it was too late. The commotion had been noticed.

From the entrance of the not-hall in the back, hulking, shambling figures were making their way towards us. By now, they weren’t even trying to keep their imitation alive anymore. No, all that remained of it were the empty, half-smiling crayon-faces.

“Can I help you, sir?” the thing next to me repeated once more.

This time, the words came out in the same throaty giggle I’d heard before.

The image of those cages returned to me, of the hooks and the chunks of meat dangling from them.

That would be me, I realized. This was what awaited me.

And then, my fear, my terror, was pushed aside by rage. No, it wouldn’t. I was not livestock. My free hand shot forward, and in a single motion, I tore apart the disgusting, dead skin covering the creature’s face.

What I saw below was nothing but twisted flesh and scar tissue. An inhumane shriek, one of outrage escaped its mouth, and I felt the hand holding onto me let go.

As the thing covered its face, I dashed away. I was out of the tunnel in an instant and then back into the disorganized hall. I didn’t lock back, didn’t want to see what was coming after me.

No, I just ran.

My legs led me through hall after hall, each stranger than the one before. They were all twisted and wrong. One seemed to be built vertically, with stalls stacked on top of one another continuously. Another was populated by stalls that seemed to have grown and were more alive than the beings moving between them.

More than once, figures pointed and stared at me. Some cringed away, for I was as alien to them as they to me. Yet sometimes, I felt hands reaching out for me, trying to hold me in place.

In sheer and utter panic, functioning purely by adrenalin, I ran on. My lungs were burning, my legs were getting weak. I had no goal, no direction. I just ran on, trying desperately to flee the surreal place my world had become.

Then I collided with someone stepping out in front of me. I stumbled, lost my balance, and crashed to the floor. I cursed, fought myself back up, and was about to rush on when a hand closed around my arm.

In my mind, I could already hear the same words, the same question.

Instead, I found myself face to face with a man who looked entirely human, a security guard. Yet I didn’t stop. I tried to get away and eventually pulled my arm free. This was nothing but another ploy, another fake who was out to get me. I stumbled another step, then another, before I fell once more.

My eyes darted around, searching for hulking, shambling figures, but all I saw was faces, normal faces. Some seemed worried, others confused. A group of teenagers nearby snickered behind their hands. I even saw a couple dragging their son away the moment I stared at them.

Yet they were all unmistakably human.

By now, the security guard had motioned for his colleagues to come over.

As they stood in front of me, their mouths moved, yet my brain didn’t seem to function.

Once more, one of them got a hold of me, pulling me to my feet. In an instant, however, I tore myself free again.

“The hell’s the matter with him?” one of them brought out.

Another mentioned the words ‘drunk’ and ‘drugs.’

I finally opened my mouth and began rambling about being followed, and hunted down before I closed it again.

“You saw what? Someone’s following you?”

“No,” I started shaking my head. “I mean, yes, there’s this woman and those men, but…”

My voice trailed off when I saw their expression and how they stared me down. It was clear they didn’t buy a word of what I was saying.

“I think it’s best for you to leave the premise, sir,” the one holding onto my arm eventually said, or rather, commanded.

With that, they swiftly escorted me from the complex.

Still confused, but more than relieved to finally having escaped the place, I made my way to our hotel.

When Frank arrived, he was pissed.

While I was sitting on the bed, he laid into me. He ranted on about where I’d been, what I thought I was doing, and even told me he’d informed the boss about me skipping out on the job.

I only half-listened, still plagued by what I’d seen just hours ago.

Eventually, Frank got a hold of my collar and pulled me up close.

“The fuck’s the matter with you, Danny?”

At first, I only stared at his angry face, but then I opened my mouth.

“I don’t know. I think I got…lost? No, never mind.”

When Frank heard this, he let go of me and the anger on his face evaporated.

“What happened? What did you see?”

Instead of answering, I shock my head and told him he wouldn’t believe me, anyway. For a moment, Frank continued staring at me, before he grumbled something, but left it at that.

Later that evening, though, when the two of us went out to have some beers, I finally opened up to him.

Frank listened without saying a word. Once I was done, though, I couldn’t help but laugh again. I told him I must be overworked, or that I’d had a panic attack.

Frank, however, didn’t join in my laughter. Instead, his face grew dark.

“No, you did get lost.”

“What are you-?”

“Listen, Danny, these days, they make these places, these fairs, too damn big. There’s too many people. It’s only natural that some get lost or end up in…places they don’t belong. Happens all the time, just no one ever talks about it.”

“How do you…?”

Frank didn’t answer. Instead, he just sat there, staring at his beer, avoiding my probing eyes.

“Best thing you can do is not to wander around and just stay at your stall,” he finally whispered.

When he looked up again, I saw his expression, saw the sad, anxious look that now filled it.

For the next couple of minutes, I pressed him to tell me what he meant. I asked him if he’d gotten lost himself, but Frank never said another word about it.

—

It’s been years since it all happened. I’m not working with Frank anymore, and I neither do I work at trade fairs.

I just…couldn’t do it. Whenever I went near those giant, disorienting halls, and saw the countless people entering them, I was pushed into a state of almost-panic.

In time, however, as the years went by, what happened that day became nothing but distant memories.

Just recently, though, having finally gotten over my fears, I visited one of our local trade fairs with a friend of mine.

As we walked from hall to hall, I couldn’t help but look around and watch my surroundings.

I saw them.

I saw the few select people who seemed bewildered and confused, who seemed lost. It’s always people who are a tad bit different, a tad bit wrong. People who just don’t seem to belong.

And I can always see those who are preying on them. Figures who pretend to be info desk workers, security guards and even sales representatives. And I can see them lead them away, lead them into directions that shouldn’t lead anywhere, or that lead somewhere else entirely.