Hey there, everyone, sorry for the lack of updates. After what happened on day six, I just needed a few days to get myself together and to get some well-needed rest.

Things got out of hand, more so than any other day before, and I’m more than lucky to even write this. But more about that later.

Let me start day six by telling about my encounter with a familiar face. It was the old man who I’d met on day two.

This time, he wasted no time and sat down next to me right away.

“Guess you’re still on here,” he said.

“Same as you. Guess we both enjoy riding the tram,” I brought out half-jokingly.

“It’s not all fun and games, young man, but I’m sure you know that by now, given how long you’ve been on.”

“Sure do,” I said, laughing.

The old man didn’t join in, but gave me an expectant stare. And so, I told him about my experiences over the course of the past days.

When I told him about the strange undescriptive people and the station I’d encountered on day four, his expression changed. It became one of sadness, of longing, but said anything.

Eventually, I told him what had happened the day prior, about my encounter with the waving man and what the homeless guy had told me.

“That man’s right indeed. You’ve stayed on for far too long. As I told you, certain things might notice you, and now they have.”

Once more, I felt a shiver running down my spine. I was in for it now, was I?

“You better stop this madness now and get off. It’s not worth it, young man.”

“Well, to be honest, I want to, but this is day six, and I told myself I’m going to set this out. There’s no way I can give up now.”

When the old man heard this, he just shook his head.

“Let me repeat myself, it’s not worth it, but I guess your mind’s set. I hope you don’t find to regret your choice.”

With that, he got up from his seat, walked off, and settled down in the tram car ahead of me. For a few more minutes, he sat there, but the moment I took a glance outside, he was gone.

The next couple of hours were rather quiet. It was Saturday afternoon and only a few people here and there entered the tram on their way to the inner city area.

The moment we left it behind, I soon found myself all alone again.

We’d just made it to the outskirts of the city when the tram doors opened behind me, and I was greeted by loud yelling and laughter. A second later, a group of six kids rushed past me. They were so fast, they seemed like nothing but colorful blurs.

They began causing a ruckus in the tram car, then rushed back past me, giggling. I began rubbing my temples and was about to yell at them to knock it off when one of them slapped me on the shoulder.

“You’re it!” he called out before he and his friends rushed past me once more.

I watched as they hurried to tram car ahead, and how they tried their best to hide themselves. I thought nothing of it and couldn’t help but sigh a little when I saw one of them crawling below a set of seats and another trying to hiding himself behind the ticket machine.

Others, however, were doing… strange things, impossible things, and I felt myself shivering in my seat. I watched as one kid almost folded into himself, becoming smaller and smaller while another one seemed to melt between two seats, vanishing.

I sat there, closed my eyes, and then opened them again. By then, all six kids were gone. Yet every once in a while, I could still hear muffled giggling.

I just sat there, trying my best to ignore it. This is just happening because I’m all alone on the tram. All those things, they only ever happen when I’m completely alone. Just wait till other people get back on, then it will be over.

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“The kids are waiting,” the hand’s owner cackled from behind me.

I froze. Without moving, I took a glance at the hand resting on my shoulder. It was old and wrinkly, but its fingers were too long, much too long.

A moment later, when the sun pushed itself out from behind the clouds, I saw the shadow of whatever was standing behind me. It was a giant, monstrous shadow that seemed to spread over the entire tram car, stretching further and further.

“Well, why aren’t you going?”

“No-no. I’m-“

I didn’t get to finish my excuse. The creature’s hand closed around my shoulder and I felt its nails dig into my skin.

I cringed in pain, but kept my mouth shut. Don’t scream. Don’t move. Yet with each passing moment, the creature squeezed harder, and I felt its nails dig deeper into my flesh.

Finally, I saw the tram approaching the next station, and I could see a group of people waiting for it. When the tram came to a rest, I was released.

“Let’s go kids,” the thing behind me screeched and right away all six kids reappeared, jumping out from behind seats, and from place they couldn’t possibly have been.

For the first time, I could make out their faces. I wish I hadn’t. They were nothing but mockeries, estimations of children’s faces that were only half-right. What made it even worse, however, was that I somehow recognized them. In the deepest corners of my mind, I knew I’d see them before.

I couldn’t help but shiver again as they raced past me.

Then they were gone. When the tram moved again, driven by a strange sense of curiosity, I turned around.

What I saw outside was a group of kids, standing around an old lady who seemed to smile down at them. A second later, she turned towards me and her eyes found mine. In an instant, her face changed. What had been a kind, smiling face before became nothing but an angry, twisted visage.

My breath caught in my throat and I jerked back around, more than happy to leave these ghastly children and their guardian behind.

This, however, wasn’t the only scary thing that happened during the day. As always, the same recurring passengers entered the tram. By now, they’d long become an almost normal part of the Long Ride. Just another strange thing amongst a plethora of them.

Yet when my eyes followed one of them, an older woman, I noticed the change right away. She wasn’t minding her own business like she usually did. That day, I found her frowning slightly, measuring me up, almost as if she was probing me.

I remembered what that homeless dude had said:

“He’s marked you, and now others know as well!”

I took a deep breath and averted my eyes, trying my best to ignore her, but I could feel her continuing to stare at me until she got off the tram.

Only a few stations later, she got on again, and once more she stared at me. I didn’t look at her directly, only took a single, side-way glance, but I could’ve sworn her frown was getting deeper.

This behavior was true for every single one of them, and like her, they too became angrier with each iteration.

It made me feel restless, and not a tad big anxious. I felt trapped, haunted by multiple pairs of eyes staring at me and only me.

When it became evening, the bustle of partygoers started again, and for the first time in hours, I felt myself slightly relaxing. Under the constant bustle of people entering and leaving the tram, I felt hidden.

And yet, I knew they were still there. I could still feel their glances even amongst the general chaos that ruled over the tram.

Finally, though, as the tram grew emptier once more, I found almost a dozen of them staring at me. It also seemed that under the cover of the partygoers, they’d gotten closer. By now, they were all in the same tram car as me, seemed to have encircled me.

At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore and finally spoke up.

“The hell do you want from me!?” I called out.

Yet nothing changed. I got no answer. They just continued to stare at me.

Before long, however, they reminded me of the guy in dark clothes I’d encountered on day three. They didn’t just sit in their seats anymore, didn’t just stare at me, but were leaning forward, their faces distorted by unadulterated rage. Their hands were on their seats, their feet shuffled over the floor as if in anticipation of… something. The worst, however, was that with each station, more of them entered.

If it’s just one set of eyes staring at you, you can ignore it, you can handle it, but when it’s more than a dozen, you just… can’t.

With everything I’d heard, with all the warnings I’d received, I knew something was going to happen. It just seemed they were… waiting for something.

In that instant, fear washed over me, raw and hot, fear that soon turned into panic, and I finally decided that was it. I wouldn’t just stay on here until god knows what would happen to me! Fuck the Long Ride, fuck the tram, this is over.

I closed my hand around my backpack, was about to get up, but at that moment, their angry glances changed. They turned to smiles, hungry smiles. The same feeling I’d had when I tried to feel the guy in black clothes came over me. If I’d get up now, they’d come for me, wouldn’t they? That’s what they were waiting for, wasn’t it?

I just stood there, at my seat, my hand closed around my backpack’s strap, unable to move. Then the tram turned a corner, a bend that shouldn’t be there, and we encountered another un-location.

Half-defeated, and knowing I was trapped either way, I plopped down on my seat again, and stared outside with a feeling of miserable wonder.

The entire area outside was covered in nothing but small buildings, shanties comprising nothing but rubble and trash. They seemed to have been put up without rhyme or reason, were almost growing from the ground like mushrooms. Between them, I saw things moving, twisted things I could tell weren’t human.

Yet it wasn’t merely this shantytown we’d arrived at. No, they were all part of another location, were built around it as if they were part of an infection that spread further and further.

The dim red light that flooded the tram was enough, and one glance ahead told me that were once more approaching Club Red.

No, I thought, not this place again. I hoped the tram would pass it by, that we’d return to reality, that other people would enter the tram again, and I’d be able to flee.

Instead, the tram approached a wide, arching opening and then drove forward and straight into Club Red itself.

What I saw in there was utterly surreal. All I’d seen on night four was the building’s exterior, and it was nothing but a taste of the insanity the place contained.

It was nothing but a cesspool, an amalgamation of sin.

All around us, the same strange psychedelic non-music was blaring. I saw stalls everywhere. They were offering drinks, food, but also… other things. In some of them, I thought I saw bound humans or things that might have once been human.

Here and there, people were having sex, copulating with creatures that weren’t human. In other places, I saw orgies, strange rituals, people praying to disgusting, twisted idols and so much more.

Even here, even inside, the place defied the laws of physics. The walls were covered in doorways, all connected by a mad network of stairs, but stairs that shouldn’t work. And yet, they did. It was as if the works of M. C. Escher had become reality.

Then the strange, fascinated trance that had come over me broken, and I jerked back as I remembered where I was and what was happening to me.

While I’d been staring outside, and I’d not given them any attention, it seemed all the reoccurring passengers had inched closer towards me, were now surrounding me.

I opened my mouth to throw them another set of insults, to tell them to stay the fuck away, when the tram’s doors opened.

Instantly, the air filled with a disgustingly sweet odor, a stench so oppressive it almost made me cough. It smelled of strange spices, of body fluids, but also… blood.

Yet this wasn’t the worst. I noticed something approaching the tram, and before I could even react, the creature had entered it.

Its limbs were bent at strange angles as if they had too many joints with them, limbs that sprouted from places they shouldn’t.

I watched as its head pushed itself forward, its neck stretching further and further as it scanned the interior of the tram.

And then, one step at a time, the monstrosity made its way through the tram on its spidery limbs, slowly getting closer towards me.

I just sat there, mouth open in shock, not able to do anything but stare ahead. No, it couldn’t be. Why was this thing here? Why the hell was it back!?

Cold sweat broke out all over my body, and I just sat there, my hands holding onto the seat in front of me. Then I began to shake uncontrollably. Oh god, I thought, as I watched it getting closer. It’s coming for me. This time it’s actually coming for me!

By now, the people around me were all grinning. I understood now. This was what they’d been waiting for. It seemed almost as if they weren’t able to do anything to me, weren’t able to hurt me, but this… this thing could!

As I watched the twisted creature take another step, as it stalked forward in my direction on its spidery limbs, I just… freaked out. I screamed in terror, jumped off my seat, and dashed for the tram doors. I didn’t want to go out there. Hell, I shouldn’t, but I wasn’t in control of my body. It was nothing but pure, primal fear that drove me on, but then the doors closed right in front of me. For a mad second, I clawed at them, tried to pry them open with sheer force, but before I could, the tram started to move again, trapping me inside.

Fuck! What the fuck do I do!?

Then, with no other option, I rushed to the back of the tram, praying we’d return to reality, to my city, to another station that would allow me to get away.

Outside, we left Club Red behind, but then continued on through the ever-extending shantytown. Fuck! Why aren’t we back yet!?

I sat in the back, huddled together behind a seat, trying to keep the panic at bay, but one glance forward made it impossible.

By now, the disgusting creature had almost reached the last tram car and, for a moment, its eyes focused on me. Its jaw fell open, unhinged like that of a snake, and a distorted bout of guffawing laughter escaped from it.

At that moment, I couldn’t fight the panic anymore. I jumped up, my hand closing around one of the glass breakers. And then, with all the force I could muster, I swung it against the window. It crashed against the glass again and again before the window shattered.

A moment later, I threw myself outside.

I landed hard on the asphalt. My hands and knees exploded with pain. I felt the skin of my hands being scraped away and felt my knees crunch hard against the asphalt.

Then I felt myself being propelled forward, rolling over the street.

I heard a horn, heard brakes screeching, but I somehow avoided the oncoming car by a hair’s breath.

As I lay there on the ground, I was panting and in terrible pain. When I finally looked up, all was normal. There was no hint of any un-location. Instead, I was on an entirely normal street in my city.

By now the driver of the car had jumped out, his face a mixture of anger and worry, and a moment later, the tram driver followed.

While the car driver asked if I was okay, the tram driver began laying into me. He called me crazy for destroying the window and for jumping off. He spat at me, accusing me of being drunk, on drugs, or insane.

Instead of reacting to any of these words, I stared back at the tram. It was empty. No one was inside. None of the reoccurring passengers, no twisted, spidery monsters. I could only listen as the tram driver explained to the other man what had happened. I’d apparently jumped off my seat, screaming and freaking out before I’d broken a window and jumped off. Even though I’d been entirely alone on the tram.

I opened my mouth to tell them what had happened, but then closed it again. What could I even tell them?

In the end, all I could do was to drag my battered body to the sidewalk and sit down. By now, the tram driver had called the police and informed them about what I’d done.

To be honest, I could’ve tried to run, to get away, but in the state I was in, it seemed impossible.

As I sat there, I thought back to the old man, to the vision of his torn apart and broken body.

If that car had hit me, something similar would’ve most likely happened to me.

Was this what this had all been about? Had all those people, and this creature, been nothing but visions to drive me over the edge, to get me to go crazy and end up being run over?

When the police arrived, they were quick to take the statements of both drivers before they spoke to me as well. Then they took me to the station and questioned me for almost an hour.

In the end, I told them I’d had a panic attack, that I couldn’t breathe and thought I’d die of a heart attack unless I get off the tram.

They were skeptical to say the least, and subjected me to not only an alcohol, but also a drug test. When both came out negative, I essentially let off the hook, but not scot free. They charged me with vandalism and I’d have to pay for the tram window I’d destroyed, which would come down to almost a thousand Euros.

They also told me I should consult professional help and see myself checked in.

I mumbled a thanks and could eventually leave.

And so, the Long Ride ended on day six, in the earlier hours of the morning.

What I’m now left with is nothing but a tale, a tale I can share only here because you guys are the only people willing to believe any of the things I’ve seen.

Thank you all for staying with me, for your thoughts on what happened, and for following me along on this crazy adventure.

I’d have never thought things would get out of hand like this, and there are still so many questions I’ll probably never find answers for.

Yet I’d also like to give you guys a word of warning, or reiterate those given to me multiple times. Don’t do it.

There are things out there who wait for people who linger, who stay in the same place for too long. They are dangerous things, things that will find you and will come for you.

And maybe, just maybe, you won’t be as lucky as me and get away.

Hey there, everyone. I officially made it through day five of the Long Ride. Quite a few things happened today, but while some of them were strange and terrifying, I also had a rather interesting conversation with a fellow passenger. Still trying to figure out what to make of it, though…

The morning started fantastic right off the bat. After I’d typed out the events of the previous night, I felt like utter shit. I was hungover; the tram was overcrowded, and the collective noise of all those people cut through my brain like a searing knife.

Eventually, I just didn’t care anymore. I pulled out one of the remaining two cans of beer my friend had gotten me and decided to down them, hoping they’d somehow be able to ease my hungover and allow me to sleep. Needless to say, people weren’t too happy about it.

As I said, no one cares to enforce the ‘no drinking on the tram’ rule, but that didn’t mean people were happy to see you drinking in the early morning hours.

I opened my can of ‘hungover cure beer,’ took a deep sip and could already feel the pain in my brain receding. I leaned back, took a deep breath, and then another sip. This behavior didn’t go unnoticed, of course. I saw the stares, and I could almost hear the whispers, but really, I couldn’t care less. I was just too damn exhausted.

It wasn’t long before I felt someone’s hand resting on my shoulder. When I turned, I saw an older man. His attire screamed blue collar. He was staring me down, waiting for me to take out my headphones.

The moment I did, he spoke up.

“Drinking first thing in the early morning, eh, but not even moving the damned backpack to make room for other people?”

I just looked at him and was about to give him a ‘fuck you,’ but he wasn’t the only one laying into me.

“There’re children here, you know? Can’t you at least think about what an example you’re setting for them?” an older woman chimed in.

“How about you just move the damned backpack and get up? Maybe standing for a bit might sober up,” Mr. Blue Collar spat at me.

Without waiting for an answer, he got a hold of my backpack and was about to pull it off the seat. I was quick to hold it in place with my free hand.

This time, I said it out loud.

“Fuck off, okay?”

He didn’t like me mouthing off one bit, and this time, he pulled on the backpack with all the force he could muster. The backpack slid off the seat, and I was promptly pulled after it. In the process, I spilt a good part of the beer all over myself.

I cursed, only to be greeted by snickering and more whispers all around me.

“Already drunk at this time of the day,” I heard a middle-aged lady say.

“Probably homeless, and slept on the tram,” someone else added.

“Should just kick him off,” I heard a teenager say to his friends, who enthusiastically agreed with his idea.

“Fucking hell, all right,” I finally said, and got up from my seat.

Then I got a hold of my backpack and pushed myself through the more than annoyed crowd of passengers to find myself some room.

As I did, it felt like the entire tram staring at me. Occasionally, people moved out of my way, their disgust at my drunken self visible on their faces, while others weren’t shy to elbow me or push me aside, trying to provoke yet another scene.

Eventually, I made to a spot near the tram doors and pushed myself against the side of the tram and began massaging my temples.

I still heard people whisper and still felt the glances. Yeah, you can all go fuck yourselves, I thought.

Yet some weren’t just satisfied by mere whispers and glances. When the group of teenagers from before got off the tram, they all bumped into me, one of them so hard, I almost lost my footing. In an instant, I jerked around and pushed the fucker. He tumbled off the tram and promptly crashed to the floor.

He got up a second later, was about to throw a punch, but then froze. His eyes grew wide, fear distorted his face, and he cringed back, just staring at me. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. His friends asked him why he didn’t ‘punch the fucker,’ but he wasn’t able to say anything.

Now, I’m sure I look like shit, probably like a homeless person, but that reaction, that fear… It wasn’t normal. I don’t know what he saw. Maybe it was me or maybe it was something else, but it made me more than anxious.

I just stood there as the tram doors closed again. Could it be that whatever otherworldly influences I’d been subjected to had done something to me?

Before I could think about it any longer, the same man from before was yelling at me again, telling me he’d no problem to kick my drunk ass off the tram if I’d ever do anything like that again.

Eventually, more and more people left the tram, Mr. Blue Collar amongst them. He gave me one last angry stare before he got off. As he did, I heard him mumble to himself about ‘worthless scum.’

Soon enough, only a handful of people remained, and I could finally return to my trusty row of seats. I considered opening the last can of beer I’d left, but I could tell the driver had it out for me because of the earlier commotion. Unless I didn’t want to get kicked off for real, I’d better lie low for a bit. So instead, I decided to just settle down, close my eyes, and catch some sleep.

I was awoken in the late afternoon by the sound of someone knocking against the tram window. I jerked up, turned, but saw no one. Great, I thought, probably a bunch of kids who’d fucked with me.

Then I saw him. There was a guy who stood a couple of meters away, on the other side of the street. He was staring at me. His face showed a slight, cheeky smile, as if he’d just played a trick on me. And as if to make it even clearer, he made a little knocking motion. So it had been him, but… how? How’d he be able to knock against the glass from over there? I mean, there was no way he’d been fast enough to knock and cross the street.

My eyes continued to rest on him until the tram drove off. The moment it did, his smile grew a tad bit wider, and he slowly raised his hand to wave at me.

I don’t know why, but he instantly crept me out. The hell was wrong with that guy?

I shook my head. No, don’t think about it. It’s probably just some idiot who saw me jerking up and decided to fuck with me.

At least, that’s what I told myself until we arrived at the next station. I’d just been sitting there, staring outside, but the moment we pulled in, I noticed a person waving.

At first, I thought it was someone waving at a friend or one of the other passengers, but then I recognized him. It was the same guy, the same freaking guy from the last station. How he’d gotten here was anyone’s guess.

He was still smiling happily, but now he seemed to have gotten a tad bit closer to the tram.

By now, I should’ve gotten used to these strange events, and I should’ve just ignored it. Hell, seen it as a normal part of my day, but I just… couldn’t. I don’t know why, but him looking entirely normal, his smile nonthreatening, was so much worse than any of the ghastly grins I’d seen so far. I told myself once more to look away, to ignore him, to focus on my music, but I found myself staring at him.

Finally, we drove off again, and once more, he waved at me, his eyes trailing after me.

When we pulled into the next station, I somehow knew he’d be there. We were still a good hundred meters away, but I could already see him waiting for me. And as the tram pulled in, he waved at me again. Once more, he seemed to have gotten closer.

I couldn’t help but squirm in my seat. This freaking smile!

Every time the tram pulled into a new station, that guy was there, and every time he was doing the same thing, happily smiling and waving at me.

I’d seen lots of weird shit, but this was just too damned bizarre.

And then, I did it. After more than a dozen stations, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I raised my hand, and waved back at him, just to see if anything would happen, if anything would change.

The moment I did, there was indeed a change. His hand went down, his eyes grew wide, his smile grew bigger, and then… after staring at me for another few seconds, he just left.

A wave of fear like no other washed over me, and I started shivering. I don’t know what I’d just done, but I knew I’d made a mistake, a huge fucking mistake!

As I sat there, shaking in my seat, I couldn’t help but stare outside, stare at the internal departure schedule to see when we’d pull into the next station. What if that guy was there again? What if he was waiting for me, or, hell, he’d get on the tram to come for me? Just because I… reacted to him.

Then the announcement of the next station was broadcast over the internal speaker by a friendly, yet monotonous, voice.

I froze. There he was. At least I thought so at first, but then I realized I was wrong. It was another person, another man, just waiting for the tram.

That waving guy wasn’t there. Yet as I sat in my seat, I knew this wasn’t over. I knew he’d be back, eventually.

Slowly, ever so slowly, afternoon turned to evening, Friday evening. Which meant the tram would be packed the entire evening.

I watched as teenagers and older people alike flooded into the tram. I saw guys dressed in suits, girls in short skits and knee highs, older ladies in classy dresses and even a group of guys in sweatpants, carrying two caskets of beer.

Almost the entire city was out to party tonight.

The later it got, and the more alcohol people seemed to have consumed, the more excitable they became. Here was a group of drunks bellowing a raunchy song through half the tram. Over there was a couple making out and further ahead I saw a group of girls so scarcely clad, you might think it was the middle of summer. I even saw two older gentleman, costly dressed who shared a bottle of disgustingly strong herb liquor between themselves.

For hours, I watched the going-ons, and the various people out tonight. To be honest, it was extremely interesting, and for the first time, I found myself ignoring the outside of the tram, not looking for weird locations, but instead, just watching people.

It was at about two in the morning when the tram grew emptier that she entered.

She was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, and my eyes grew wide. Her hazel eyes wandered over the tram in search of a seat, and I watched as she brushed aside a rebellious strand of brown hair that dangled in front of her face.

For a second, all the noise in the tram die down, and everyone seemed to stare at her.

Then, slowly, normalcy returned, or at least, a sense of normalcy, for she was still the center of attention.

The strangest thing, however, was how plainly she was dressed. Instead of a fancy evening dress, she wore a pair of roughed up jeans and a white tank top, but this made her even hotter.

As her well-measured steps led her through the tram, I couldn’t help but stare at her. I told myself to look away, to stop being a freaking creep, but I couldn’t. This girl, whoever she was, was exactly my type; a fantasy become flesh.

Then she noticed me. In an instant, I averted my eyes. Shit, you’re acting way too freaking creepy.

I did my best to just turn away and stare out the window, but then, only a few moments later, she was right there, standing next to my row of seats.

“Hey there, is this seat available, or is it reserved for your backpack?” she asked, giving me a hint of a smile.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ, I can die happy.

“Oh yeah, it is, I mean, it’s reserved… not reserved, available, I mean. Just let me get this out of the way.”

With that, I heaved the heavy backpack over to my side, and then, with all the force I could muster, pushed it between my legs. It barely fit, and I was damned sure I’d just ruined a fair bit of the food still inside, but I didn’t care. I’d have thrown the damned thing out of the tram if it meant having a short with this girl.

She watched my efforts, slightly giggling, before she sat down next to me.

“So, are you out to party?” she asked.

Her voice was pure seduction and the smile she gave made my blood rush through my veins.

“Ah, no, I’m…”

Shit, what the hell do I tell her? If I told her what I was really doing, she’d probably think I was the biggest freaking idiot on planet Earth. Which, honestly, wasn’t too far from the truth.

“No, I’m going somewhere,” I eventually brought out.

“Hmmm,” she mused. “Why don’t the two of us go somewhere together? To be honest, I’m really bored tonight, and am looking for a bit of fun, you know?”

After she’d said this, she gave me a little wink.

Believe me, I wanted to, I fucking wanted to, but I couldn’t just give up like that, could I? Not on day fucking five!

Then she put her hand on my leg, caressing it slightly.

“Why not take a chance for once?”

At that moment, I was done. Fuck the Long Ride, fuck the tram, and fuck my friends who’d most likely call me out for giving up. I didn’t care anymore.

The tram rumbled on, and then came to a stop. At that moment, she got off her seat, and held out her hand toward me. Without even thinking, I took it and got up myself. Yet before I could leave my rows of seats behind, something unexpected happened.

Some idiot who must’ve sat behind us and was on his way towards the tram doors as well bumped right into her. Her hand was torn from mine and she stumbled a few steps forward. I was about to yell at the fucker, but at that moment, something changed. She changed.

For the shortest of moments, the beautiful girl in front of me… wavered, for lack of a better word.

In an instant, her brown hair and hazel eyes vanished, and something not human replaced her face and comprising nothing but bone and scare tissue. I cringed back, almost toppled over my seat, and crashed hard against the tram’s side.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” I heard from behind me and when I turned, I saw a scruffy-looking older dude.

When I turned back towards the girl, she was all hazel eyes and brown hair again.

“Are you okay? Are you still coming?” she asked, but this time, the illusion wasn’t complete.

For a moment, her face was replaced by what I know recognized as some sort of beak, and the hand she held out to me was nothing but a twisted set of claws.

Once more, I pushed myself against the side of the tram. When she saw my reaction, her entire act fell apart. Her smile was gone, her eyes had turned hard, and an expression of pure and utter anger came over her face.

For a second, I thought the thing might throw itself at me, but then she just walked off.

I couldn’t help but stare after her, after… it.

“Wouldn’t look for too long, or you fall for it again,” the scruffy guy said. “Care if I take a seat?”

I measured him up for a moment, wondering if this was another trick, another ploy by some strange thing to get close to me, but when I saw no sign of ill will on his face, I nodded.

“Thanks, I guess,” I eventually brought out.

The dude gave me a shrug. When he did, a rain of dandruffs descended from his head, and I couldn’t help but inch a tad bit away from him. Now that I had time to get a better look at him, I saw he wasn’t just scruffy. He was dirty, his clothes nothing but rags and smelled way worse than I did after five days on the goddamn tram.

He had to be a freaking hobo, I reasoned. Probably on the tram for the night to catch some sleep in a warm place.

“How did you know about this… thing?”

The guy chuckled, but then started to talk. When he did, I could smell disgustingly heavy liquor on his breath.

“When you live where I do, you catch on to a thing or two. Seen it before. Almost fell for it myself once.”

“What is it?”

“Haven’t gotten the slightest clue. But sure is nothing good. I can tell you that!”

As I stared ahead, I saw that the woman had already found another guy, and was seductively talking to him. A moment later, I watched as she pressed her mouth against his and couldn’t help but shudder.

“What’s it you see?” the guy next to me asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The thing, what’s it look like to you?”

“Brown hair, hazel eyes, wearing jeans and a tank top.”

The guy next to laughed.

“See, that’s how it gets you. Knows what type of woman we like, then shows it to us!”

“What’s she looking like to you, then?” I asked, giving him a slight grin.

“A blond with a pair of killer knockers!”

I burst out laughing when I heard this.

Then I watched as the woman got off her seat, the guy she’d sat with trailing after her. I was about to get up, to do something, but for just a second, she shot me a threatening glance. That made me freeze.

A moment later, she’d dragged the guy from the tram.

My eyes wandered towards the station, towards the two of them. The guy was still grinning like an idiot, enamored by what he assumed to be the girl of his dreams.

As they went on their way, I could see their shadows, cast by a nearby street light. His was normal, but hers was entirely different. It was a giant, lurking thing, something akin to a sort of bird, a bird of prey. The image of a vulture appeared in my mind, a lurking, preying vulture read to devour its prey. Then the tram drove off, leaving the two of them behind, and the guy to whatever terrible fate the creature had in mind for him.

“So, what’s your deal?” the guy ended the silence.

“What do you-?”

“Been sitting here with no intention of getting out, carrying that damned thing with you. You sure don’t look like party people to me.”

Guess I really stuck out. In a few words, I told him about the Long Ride, and that I was already on day five.

When he heard this, his face grew dark.

“Doing a stupid thing like that,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Staying on here for so long, even overnight.”

“Aren’t you doing the same thing? I mean, aren’t you on here to catch some sleep?”

“God no! I might live on the streets, but I ain’t stupid! I’m just on to get away from those damned party people. Can’t sleep with all that shouting and what not. Stayed on here once, but it’s not worth it. Not with all the crazy shit happening.”

“What do you mean?”

He stared at me for a moment, probing me.

“Sure you must’ve noticed them by now. Them people who just up and vanish, strange creatures like that thing before and those places who shouldn’t be there but somehow are. Like this one!”

With that, he pointed outside, and I saw we were just passing another un-location. This time, it was a scrapyard. It was a huge, constricted place, looking almost labyrinthine. As I focused on it more, I saw its giant heaps comprised nothing but old, rusty toys, all stacked upon one another.

I shuddered when I saw strange figures shuffling around between these heaps, figures that seemed as mechanical as the rest of the place.

Eventually, I gave the guy a nod and began telling him what I’d seen over the past days. When I told him about the waving man, he cut me off.

“You did what?” he asked in shock.

“Like I said, I waved back? Why?”

“Goddamnit! Tell you what,” he started, leaning over towards me, staring me deep into the eyes. “You better get off this damned thing right here, right now!”

“Why? What’s going to happen? What’s he going to do?”

“Ain’t going to do a damn thing, but now he knows you’re on, and that you’ve seen him. He’s marked you and, now, others know as well?”

“What others?”

“God knows what they are. Might be ghosts, might be demons, but they sure are trouble. As I said, best to call it quits about your damned game and get off!”

“Wish I could do that, but to tell you the truth, I’m prepared to sit this one out.”

Once more, the guy shook his head.

“Wouldn’t do it if I were you, but I guess you’ve made up your mind.”

After he’d said this, he got off his seat.

“Well, time to get going. I sure don’t like taking my chances.”

I gave him a nod.

“Well, thanks for the warning! Ah, hold on. Here for saving me!”

With that, I handed him my last can of beer.

The guy’s face lit up the moment he saw it. He almost tore it from my hands and it vanished in one of the many pockets of his jacket.

“Tell you again. Get off while you still can.”

Then he made his way toward the tram doors and once the tram came to a halt, he left it behind.

Outside, I found him looking at me, giving me a well-meaning nod before he walked off.

For the next hour, I sat in my seat, thinking. He’d said I’d been marked, but… what exactly did that mean? I’d thought he was just some crazy hobo, but it was clear he knew what was going on here, and he knew more than I did. I cursed to myself for not having asked him to stay on longer and to share more information.

Well, nothing I can do about it now. So instead, I typed out my experiences of day five. It’s close to five in the morning now, and I’m getting tired, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to sleep, at least not until the sun is up.

That’s it for now. See you all tomorrow. At least, I hope so.

Hello there, everyone. Day four is officially over, and it was a strange one to say the last. It was, however, similarly terrifying as the prior day, for… various reasons.

As I said, I hadn’t slept and even after I’d typed out the day’s events; I wasn’t able to. Before long, the first people on their way to work entered the tram, and I damn well knew I wouldn’t get the chance to catch some sleep for the next hour or two.

And so, before things grew too crowded, I set out for another toilet break, and also to change my clothes. I might be a bit of a weirdo, or hell, an idiot for doing this Long Ride, but I’d try to at least not look and smell like a freaking hobo.

It didn’t take long and once I’d pushed my used clothes to the bottom of my backpack; I set out for the tram again. Needless to say, it was packed by this point, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. Once the tram approached the city’s outskirts, I could finally return to my trusty row of seats.

Once there, I put in my headphones, turned on some low-fi chill mix and settled down for some sleep. I guess I really was exhausted because I promptly slept through the rest of the morning and almost the entire early afternoon. When I woke up, I had a stiff neck and a painfully twisted back. Those damned tram seats really weren’t comfortable. I cursed at myself for not investing in a travel pillow.

It was around four in the morning, after another one of my short, hourly updates, when my friend Derek hit me up.

He asked if I was fucking with them by posting old videos, or if was I still at it.

I assured him I was. After all, I told him; I set out to do this for an entire week. I mentioned, however, I’d see how it goes, given certain things that had happened.

When he asked me what I meant, I thought about telling him about what I’d seen last night, but there was no way he’d believe me.

He said he was out in the city right now, and asked when I’d pass our city’s central mall. After a quick check, I told him I’d be there in about an hour. He was quick to tell me he’d join me for a couple of stations and see how I was holding up.

The moment he said this, I got an idea. Sure, I still had some sandwiches left, but, to be honest, I was sick and tired of the same ham and cheese ones by now. So I asked Derek if he could get me a few supplies.

He told me to just get off the damned tram and get them myself, but I told him that would be breaking the rules. Then I offered to pay him double for anything he’d bring me.

We ended up exchanging a few more messages before he yielded and said he’d do it.

I thanked him profusely before I gave https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/11udmre/i_challenged_myself_to_ride_the_tram_for_an/him the time my tram would arrive at the mall station.

And wouldn’t you know it, there he was, holding two shopping bags in his hands. He noticed me the moment the tram arrived and sat down in the row in front of me.

“You know you’re a freaking idiot, right?” Derek said, laughing. “You’re really set on doing this an entire week? Why?”

I shrugged.

“Made it half-way already, so I can’t call it quits now.”

“This really is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Also, you look like shit, dude.”

“Can’t sleep for shit on a tram, you know?”

“Well, duh, idiot,” he said, shaking his head before he handed me the grocery bags.

The first bag contained an assortment of snacks, some canned food, and even a few vegetables. When he handed me the second one, my eyes grew wide. It was full of cans too, but the best kind: beer!

When I stared at him, he gave me a shrug.

“Thought you’d want to have a drink every once in a while.”

“Sure do man, sure do. After the shit I’ve seen…”

He raised his eyebrows, but I gave him a dismissive gesture.

“It’s nothing.”

“Well, I got to go. Still got a ton of things to do, and not everyone can keep doing stupid shit all day. You know, some of us got jobs and all,” he said, giving me a wink.

“Yeah, whatever, man,” I said, laughing, and gave him the finger.

He left and the next station and I was on my own again. Got to say, it felt damned good to actually talk to someone. Most of the Long Ride was pretty damned boring.

I guess today would be slightly different, though, I thought as I pulled out the first of the many beer cans.

It was late in the afternoon anyway, so I might as well have some fun.

Now there’s a rule against getting plastered on the tram, and technically against drinking at all, but no one really cares to enforce it.

So, cheers, and bottoms up!

I did my best to be as inconspicuous as possible, but I still noticed a few glances from people here and there. Especially the hardworking, productive members of society on their way home from work couldn’t help but frown at the idiot happily drinking his beer at five in the afternoon. Yeah, I felt guilty.

As the evening progressed, and I got drunker, I noticed strange things again. Same as the day before, I noticed the same people getting on and off the tram at various stations. Some I’d seen before, others I hadn’t. They all crept me out, even in my drunken state.

The tram also passed weird places again. It felt almost as if the longer I was on, the more consecutive hours I spent huddled in the same place, the more my reality wavered, and the more surreal it became.

The first one was a giant playground, one much bigger than any other I’d seen before. The tram rose past it for almost an entire minute. I saw a giant steel climbing frame that rose into the sky, and I saw an entire small town comprising nothing but wooden forts, ladders, and slides. It was nothing short of surreal. Even stranger, though, even now, in the dark of the night, the place was still populated by a multitude of kids. A shiver went down my spine as I watched the going-ons out there, and I was more than relieved when we finally left the place behind.

I saw the next unreal location, or un-location, as I came to call them about an hour later.

The tram made its way through the alternative part of town and rode past bars and clubs before it eventually approached a building I’d never seen before.

The tram rode towards it before it began sneaking around the place. Holding my can of beer, I stared at it in fascination.

The place was exclusively lit by red lights, and covered in an assortment of signs proclaiming it to be the ‘Destination of Dreams,’ ‘The Place to be for the Night,” and above it all, the name ‘Club Red’ sprouted from the wall in giant, neon letters.

The entire building was filled to the brim with people, even on a Thursday evening.

As we drove past it, I could hear music, but not just any music. It was a strangely warped, droning type of music, one you might call psychedelic, but it felt almost too random for that. It was nothing but an assortment of sounds, something trying to have a melody, but somehow, wasn’t able to get it right.

As I continued staring at the building, my eyes hurt. At first, I thought it was the red light, but the longer I focused on it, I realized it was the building itself. Things just… didn’t add up.

I don’t know how to explain it, but the layout just didn’t make sense. I stared at windows, one after another, but there were too many, too many to fit the front of the building. It was the strangest sensation.

Imagine a building whose ground floor comprises nothing but four giant windows. Now imagine the floor above has seven, seven windows of exactly the same size and equally spaced as the ones below. It shouldn’t work, be impossible. Yet there they were.

It was the strangest optical illusion I’d ever come upon, and while I saw it, my brain couldn’t handle it, couldn’t understand this warping of the laws of physics.

In all these windows, I saw people. They were pushing and shoving against each other. Some were dancing, others leaning outward, and here and there, I even saw some sitting on the window sills.

The building’s size, too, made no sense. It wasn’t big, nothing more than a handful of floors. At least, I thought so at first. The moment we were closer, and I stared upward, I could always find yet another floor above the one I was looking at. Each one of them became more and more surreal, bigger and covered in more details, sprouting more windows. I even saw balconies, bridges connecting different parts of the building, and staircases that snaked around the building’s outer walls and let up and down, in and out. It was an amalgamation of architectural impossibilities.

The people too, as well as what they were doing, became stranger the longer I watched. At first it seemed to be normal people, partying, but then… I saw strange figures doing it right there in front of windows or on balconies, their forms as twisted as the building they were in. At one point, I even saw what I assumed to be some sort of ghastly ritual or sacrifice.

Finally, I came upon rows and rows of seats, chiseled in the building’s front, reminding me of a concert hall or a stadium. It was packed to the brim with people, distorted people. They were all watching the street below, the tram, and maybe… even me. They seemed to go crazy about it, applauding, laughing and pointing as we rode by.

Each time we rounded a corner, I thought we’d be done, and would finally leave this impossibility of a building behind, but we didn’t. At first I thought we were circling it, but each corner greeted me with yet another part of it. Each one stranger than the last, and in each one more twisted and deprived things were happening.

Eventually, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. My head was hurting too much. I turned and watched the other side of the street. All the while, the building’s dim, red light still flooded the tram.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. The red light was gone, so was the music, and the tram continued on its normal course. I turned around and stared back, but all I saw was a long, straight road, one that led through the city’s alternative area. All I saw were the same well-known clubs and bars.

I know I should’ve been unsettled, should’ve been freaking out, but somehow, I was almost used to the strangeness of these un-locations by now.

Or, I might have been too drunk.

A few minutes later, I took out my phone, and looked for a place called ‘Club Red,’ but I already knew what I’d find: nothing. There was no sign of any such club ever having existed in my city, and to be honest, I was more than happy about it.

Finally, I settled down in my seat, turned up my music, continued on my beer, before I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, I felt slightly hungover, but still pleasantly buzzed. My neck was in terrible pain yet again. I cursed, and rubbed it for a good minute before I shrugged, and decided to have another beer. Who knows, maybe it would help me go to sleep again.

It was only when I opened the can that I realized the tram wasn’t empty anymore. No, it was packed.

As if this wasn’t strange enough, the tram was entirely quiet. No one was speaking. No one was moving. Everyone was just sitting in their seats, unmoving and staring straight ahead.

I knew instantly that something was wrong. Even though I felt cold, sweat broke out all over my body. For a moment, I just sat there, trying to hide my presence, but then drunken curiosity won over fear.

I turned my head to see the person sitting in the row next to mine.

What I saw made me freeze. Not normal. This was not a normal person.

What I saw was a face that was undescriptive. It looked almost like a… blank slate, as if someone had forgotten to add all the characteristics and details that made someone a human being.

Even though the person was only about a meter away from me, I couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman, or… if they were human at all.

My drunken eyes wandered over the rest of the passengers near me, and I realized they were all the same. All of them were… empty, for lack of a better word.

Even in my drunken state, even though I’d downed nine beers over the course of the night, fear washed over me. Seeing these weird things outside was one thing. You felt strangely safe inside the tram, protected by its mighty steel chassis, but now, now it was happening inside as well! I felt very, very vulnerable, and very afraid.

I began shuddering, and had to will myself to be quiet, to not move.

What the fuck even were those things and why were they here?

Once more, my eyes darted around, but then I told myself to stop. Do nothing. Just sit here and wait till they are all gone or get off the tram. Don’t let them notice you. If they do, if they realize you are here, they might…

No, stop. Calm down. I put one of my hands on my knees to stop the leg from shaking. With the other one, I clutched onto the beer like a safety anchor, and continued drinking, or tried the best I could.

Then I turned to look outside, to watch my city pass by.

To be honest, I expected to find another un-location outside, and that I’d ended up at yet another different place, the place these things belonged to. This time, however, the outside was just… empty.

There was no city at all. All I saw was undescriptive ground. It was as empty as all the people around me. Another undescriptive blank slate.

Where the hell was I? How’d I ended up in a place like this?

When I saw the tram approaching a tunnel, I started shaking again. At this point, I almost lost it, and freaked the hell out.

This didn’t feel like the other un-locations before. This felt different. So far, there was one thing that had never changed. The tram was always outdoors, no matter how much its surroundings had changed.

But now, now… I wondered if this was the end. If this tunnel would just swallow me up, to never return.

I cursed at myself to stop once more. Just go back to sleep or wait till its morning. And yet, I couldn’t. All I could do was to watch as the tunnel’s dark, dilapidated walls passed by me.

Then, after long minutes, the tram left the tunnel behind and we arrived at a station, if you can even call it that.

It was a quiet, unrefined place. There were no lights, no details, no maps or departure schedule. It was nothing but a single, undescriptive platform.

Yet the moment the tram stopped and opened its doors, all the strange, undescriptive people got to their feet, and in unison filled out of the tram.

After only a minute, I was alone. I stared outside and watched as they walked away and vanished in the dark of the night.

It wasn’t long before the tram’s driver, a different one than the one I’d spoken to before, approached me. He hurried through the tram’s cars, his face distorted by a mixture of fear and confusion.

“We’ve made it, sir,” he brought out in a shaken voice. This is the end. You’ve got to get off. You’ve reached your destination.

For a moment, I just stared at him, then towards the tram doors and the dark, undescriptive plane outside and shivered.

“N-no, I can’t! I’ve got to get back to the city. Whatever this place is, I don’t belong here!” I almost screamed at him in my drunken state.

When he heard my voice, the man stumbled back. Then he measured me up and down, saw my backpack and the can of beer I was holding.

A few seconds later, he just nodded, and without another word, he headed back to the driver’s cabin.

We stayed at this strange station for a while longer, and I could feel the driver watching me via the tram’s security camera the entire time. I don’t know what this place was. I don’t know how I ended up here, but I knew I shouldn’t have. It was a place not on any map, a place that couldn’t be reached, yet it was still there. It was a place even further detached from reality than all those other un-locations I’d come upon before.

Or, maybe, I was just too goddamn drunk.

With that, I opened up beer number ten, settled back in my seat, and like clockwork, the tram’s doors closed and we drove on.

After only ten minutes, we were back in the regular city. It was an instantaneous change, one I missed entirely. At one moment I was staring at the same undescriptive plane outside, and then, suddenly, I stared at buildings cone more.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and finally, I began to drunkenly type this all out. It took way longer than usual, almost two hours, and by now, the morning’s bustle has already begun.

My head hurt, both from drinking and the noise of the people around me, but also from trying to understand what I’d seen tonight.

Either way, that’s it for today. See you all tomorrow. I know there’s more weird shit to come. The Long Ride continues, and I’m sure the weirdness does as well.

Trying to catch some sleep now. Wish me luck guys!

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.

What do you do with a room full of old, musty suitcases?

That was the first question that came to my mind after I’d had a look through my late uncle’s estate.

He’d recently passed away, and as his only living relative, his home fell to me by default.

To be honest, I knew right from the start I wouldn’t find much of value.

Sure, his old farmstead was big, but it was in terrible condition. Most of the furniture was old and the many tools he’d amassed were rusty and hadn’t been touched in years.

I found the suitcases in a storage room at the back of the house. They filled the entire room. I blinked, shock my head and then stared at them. What the hell? I knew some people owned multiple suitcases, hell, multiple sets. This, however, was different. Who the hell owned an entire room full of them?

It didn’t take me long to solve the mystery. My uncle had worked as a market trader in the later years of his life. He bought cheap products in bulk before he sold them on the weekly markets in the area. One of his last purchases had apparently been these suitcases.

I tried to figure out how many there were, but it was impossible. There had to be hundreds of the damned things.

Hoping they’d at least be worth something, I gave one of them a closer look. They were big, huge even, but cheaply made. Even worse, they had to be decades old and were clad out with some sort of strange inner fabric.

Nonetheless, a few days later, I took one of them to a pawnshop in a nearby town. When I handed it to the owner, he frowned. He turned it around a few times, opened it up and checked the inside before he shook his head.

“Hope you didn’t pay much for this because it’s pretty much worthless. The design is shoddy and old-fashioned and the material’s shit.”

I sighed.

“Well, I expected as much, but don’t you think collectors or vintage enthusiasts might be interested in them?”

The man shrugged.

“You could give eBay a try, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Guess you don’t want to try it yourself, do you?”

The man laughed and shoved the suitcase back in my direction.

“No dice, too much of a hassle.”

I picked up the suitcase again, thanked the man, and made my way back to my uncle’s home.

Eventually, I began sorting through the suitcases, picked out a select few in better condition, and brought them downstairs.

I put them on the floor in a room I’d already stripped bare, my uncle’s old bedroom. There, on the hardwood floor, I tried my best to take a few good pictures. It wasn’t easy. These things really were old and cheaply made, and even I had to admit, they looked like shit.

Even worse, my two feline roommates, Keisha and James, seemed to love them to death. The moment I turned away, one of them would’ve crawled into whatever suitcase I’d focused on at the moment.

Keisha and James were both three-year-old tabbies. While Keisha was a bright orange, James was greyish-white. They were the sneakiest little troublemakers I’d ever come upon and they made taking the pictures a living hell.

Still, I couldn’t imagine being out here in the middle of nowhere without them. I loved the two of them to death and they seemed to love these old suitcases to death.

Once I was done with the monumental task of taking a handful of pictures, I uploaded them to eBay.

It took almost a week before the first reply arrived. A young man named Damien messaged me and said he was interested in them. He was a vintage collector and would like to come by and have a look.

What do you know? Guess some people are interested in them?

That’s what I’d thought, at least. The moment Damien arrived, and I showed him the actual suitcases, his mood went sour.

“Yeah, no, that’s some pretty cheap shit. Thanks for wasting my time.”

“Well, you said were interested, so…”

“That’s because of the pictures. You didn’t say the material was shit and, god, these things smell! Those your grandpa’s or something?”

I sighed audibly. What an asshole.

Instead of yelling, however, I tried a different route.

“Tell you what. You can have them for free. That way your trip wasn’t entirely-“

“And what would I do with them? Like I said, they smell like hell. I appreciate the gesture, but I’m good.”

With that, he made his way back outside, and without another word, drove off. No goodbye or anything.

And thus, I was left with hundreds of old, musty, and, most importantly, worthless suitcases.

When I came back to the room to get rid of them, Keisha and James were busy hiding in them.

“How come you guys love those so much?”

All I got for an answer was a loud meow from Keisha before she vanished inside one of them. I watched the two for a while and left the suitcases out for now.

The next evening, after another day of sorting through my uncle’s things, I busied myself on the internet.

For a while I watched some videos on YouTube before I somehow ended up looking at cat toys and climbing trees. I blame James, who’d snuggled up on my lap as I sat on the living room couch.

I was sure they’d love one of them, especially out here in this half-empty house, but those things were pretty expensive. Right now, I couldn’t afford something like that. At least not until I’d sold my uncle’s house, and that could very well take a while.

Then I got another idea. I’d always been a do-it-yourself guy and looked up homemade cat climbing trees. Most of what I found, however, were box fortresses.

Now, I’d loved the idea of a box fortress for Keisha and James, but being in the process of cleaning out a house, I couldn’t afford to waste any boxes.

So much for the box fortress, I thought.

“Sorry, little guy,” I said to James as I scratched his head.

Eventually, I got up to prepare myself something to eat. As I went on my way, I peeked into the next room over. Keisha was still there, sleeping in a half-open suitcase.

Right at that moment, another one of my problems came to my mind, the freaking suitcases. What the hell would I do with them? How’d I even get rid of them?

In that moment, something clicked. I couldn’t build a box fortress because I didn’t have any boxes. What I could do, however, was to build a suitcase fortress. Or, how I came to call it in my head, suitcase land.

While I ate dinner, my mind was already hard at work, thinking about how to build a fort from suitcases. I had hundreds of the damned things just lying around and for all I knew, they weren’t worth a thing. If I wanted to, I could just cut them open and tape them together. Hell, I could use a break from cleaning out the house and sorting through my uncle’s things.

It wasn’t long before I started on my work. At first I tried to use a carpet knife, but those suitcases proved sturdier than I’d thought. After a few minutes, I gave up in frustration, went to my uncle’s old workshop and returned with a saw. This made things much easier.

I cut away the left side of the first suitcase and then the right side. After that, I did the same to the next one and taped the two of them together to create a sort of tunnel.

I don’t know what drove me on, but I was at it for days, and went completely overboard.

What I’d originally planned to be nothing but a circular tunnel comprising a few suitcases soon became bigger. At first, I extended the ground level and made it into a convoluted mess. Then I started on a second level. Eventually I added towers and bridges, all made from suitcases or suitcase parts.

I guess I was bored and frustrated out here and this project helped me to live out my suppressed creative urges.

Once I was done using more than half of the old, musty suitcases, I couldn’t help but be in awe. Suitcase land had expanded from a small, ground-based maze to a room-filling fortress of tunnels, towers and dead ends.

James and Keisha were head-over-heels in love with my creation. The moment I was done, they vanished inside suitcase land and weren’t seen for hours. They must’ve been busy exploring the various tunnels, sneaking up on each other, or simply sleeping in one of the dead ends.

I expected them to tire of it soon enough, but they kept it up for the entire next week, only leaving suitcase land to eat. After a while, I grew more and more curious, wondering what they were up to in there.

After some deliberation and some research on the internet, I bought a cat harness and a GoPro camera in the hopes to learn a little more about their adventures.

The moment I made it home, I couldn’t wait to get going. James was the first victim of my new found curiosity. When I tried to fit the harness on him, however, he cried out and lamented in misery. I had to accept that this wouldn’t work, at least not with James.

When Keisha came out to eat, I tried my luck again. To my surprise, she didn’t seem to mind the harness and, after some early suspicions, accepted it. I fastened the GoPro to her neck and let her roam free.

At first, she was merely walking around the living room, testing her footing. Once she seemed satisfied and had adjusted to the harness, she made her way back to suitcase land where James had vanished hours ago.

While the cats were adventuring, I took care of a few things around the house I’d neglected to create the suitcased monstrosity.

Late in the evening, hours after I’d eaten dinner, I saw Keisha again. What a swift motion I picked her up and put her on my lap.

As carefully as I could, I removed the GoPro and inserted the SD card into my laptop.

I couldn’t wait to watch the footage. I fast-forwarded through Keisha walking around the living until she was on her way to suitcase land.

For a while, she walked around it, scanning and sniffing the suitcases here and there before she walked up to the entrance and ventured inside.

I watched as she crawled through the barely lit entrance tunnel. The moment she’d made it around the first bend, however, the video became too dark to see anything. For a while longer, I continued playing it and listened to Keisha move around before I closed it in frustration.

Well, that was useless. Great idea, but as so often, I wasn’t smart enough to think this through.

The next morning, I got another idea. After I’d gotten a hold of the cats and made sure they were nowhere near suitcase land, I put tiny holes into the first couple of suitcases, hoping to lighten up the footage.

The result proofed less than satisfactory. You could see the tiny glowing circles, but that was about it. The rest was still nothing but darkness.

My last resort was to get a tiny Maglite and fasten it to the GoPro. As a test, I turned off all the lights in the living room and let Keisha walk around for a bit to see if it would work. To my surprise, it worked out well enough.

So once again, I let Keisha go, hoping she’d set out on another adventure into suitcase land. Which she promptly did.

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I saw was James’ little face. He’d crawled up on top of me and was meowing right into my face.

“Well, aren’t you happy to see me, little guy?”

I petted him for a bit and stroked his back, but he didn’t pure like he usually did.

“What’s the matter, little buddy? You hungry?”

I got up and made my way to the feeding bowls, but James didn’t follow me. Instead, he walked halfway through the living room and stared at suitcase land.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you this morning?” I asked, petting him.

The moment I touched him, he jerked up before he realized it was me. He pushed himself against me, almost huddling behind me, but his eyes never moved from suitcase land.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again before I realized I hadn’t seen Keisha.

I called out her name, but got no reaction. Normally, she’d come running the moment I called her.

Eventually, I made my way to the entrance of suitcase land, staring inside and calling for her again. Nothing.

When I turned back, I saw James hadn’t moved and was still keeping a safe distance from the place.

Shit, what if something had happened to Keisha in there? For the first time, I regretted building this entire stupid thing.

I went to the entrance and called out once more. When that didn’t do a thing, I started shaking the first few suitcases in the hopes she’d come out. Still nothing.

Before long, I wandered around the entire construction, leaning in close and calling her again and again.

Finally, I heard it, a quiet, muffled meow, originating from inside.

I rattled more of the suitcases, but she still didn’t come out. The idea of her being hurt was on my mind instantly.

For a moment, I just wanted to tear the entire thing down, but how long would it take before I’d find her? Even worse, what if I’d end up hurting her more? Hell, she might be right there, past the first bend, unable to move.

“Shit,” I cursed, and got myself a flashlight before I pushed my upper body into the first suitcase.

“Keisha,” I called out.

I pushed my arms outward, but there was no way I could reach the first bend.

Then, with little choice, I got down on my hands and knees and pushed myself into the first suitcase. To my surprise, I could actually make it inside. Those things really were huge.

This was ridiculous. I’d built this stupid thing for the cats, not for myself. I’d have laughed about how ridiculous this was if I wasn’t so worried about Keisha.

After a few moments, I’d made it far enough to reach the first bend and could look around it. Using the flashlight, I illuminated the tunnel in front of me, but all I saw were more interconnected suitcases and a mess of inner fabric. I didn’t see a hint of Keisha.

I called out again, and soon, the strangely quiet and muffled meow reached my ears once more.

“Where the hell are you?” I cursed to myself.

Pushing myself past the first bend proved almost impossible. More than once, I entangled myself in the soft inner fabric. As I tore myself free and onward, I could hear the tape I’d used to connect the suitcases stretch and almost tore the entire thing apart. Then I was through.

As I illuminated the tunnel ahead of me again, I realized how big the damned thing was. What the hell kind of monstrosity had I built here? How’d I ever thought that building a room-sized cat fortress was a good idea?

I crawled on, flashlight in hand, but saw no hint of Keisha.

The further I continued, the less difficult it became to move. At first, I could barely fit through the tunnels and had to push myself forward on my stomach. By now, I could crawl forward on my hands and knees.

How was there so much room in here? This shouldn’t be possible.

Maybe it was because of different suitcase sizes, I reasoned. I’d probably used bigger ones for this part. But, had there been any that were bigger than the rest? Hadn’t they all been the same size?

I felt a cold shower running down my spine. For a moment I stopped, took a deep breath, but then I heard Keisha again. This time it was coming from my right. It was still the same, still sounding nearby, but also strangely distant.

As I illuminated the area in front of me, I soon noticed an assortment of different tunnels. I counted six to my left and five to my right. Had I added that many?

One by one, I illuminated them and listened. Before long, I pinpointed Keisha’s meows in the third tunnel to my right.

I pushed myself inside, hoping to find Keisha in a dead-end. Instead, the tunnel continued on. It was bending in various ways before it began slopping upwards. By now, I couldn’t fight the strange feeling that had come over me anymore.

Why was there a slope in here? How was this thing so big? This was ridiculous!

Before long, I felt hot and sweaty, could barely breathe as panic came over me. Claustrophobia, this had to be some sort of hallucination caused by claustrophobia.

In an onset of panic, I tried to get up, tried to tear the damned tunnel apart and escape. As much as I tried, as much as I moved, the suitcases didn’t come apart. I desperately clawed at the inner fabric, trying to find the connections, the tape, but I couldn’t find them. Where the hell was it? My hands dug through more and more of the inner fabric, tearing it apart. The more I did, though, the less it felt like fabric and more like… something different, something almost organic.

I was hyperventilating, close to freaking out, and had to tell myself to calm down and to breathe. And yet, I couldn’t help it. Finally, I threw myself against the side of the tunnel again and again, but it didn’t budge, didn’t move at all.

I stopped my rampage when I heard Keisha meowing again.

“You stupid, freaking cat, this is all because of you!” I cursed out loud.

I was angry now, angry and afraid and in a state of perpetual half-panic.

The slope continued for an impossibly long time. Again and again, I brushed against the inner fabric. By now it felt wet and sticky, almost like skin. Here and there I thought I saw it bulging as if something behind it was breathing and moving.

For a moment I closed my eyes, took another deep breath before I concentrated on the beam of the flashlight in front of me.

Eventually, the tunnel opened up to a wider area. A brief laugh escaped my mouth. There was no way this was real. I had to be imagining this. This wasn’t a cut open suitcase anymore. No, this was a wide, open chamber.

I heard the meow again. It was coming right in front of me. This time, however, I realized it wasn’t muffled, hadn’t been. Instead it was distorted, all wrong, as if it was a faulty recording of Keisha’s meow.

I tensed up as terror gripped me. Something was wrong here.

“K-Keisha…?” I brought out in a shaken voice.

At that moment, the beam of the flashlight illuminated something in front of me. There, on the ground, was a tiny Maglite and next to it, the GoPro. I picked them up and pocketed them before I noticed the harness. How the hell had it come off?

I saw it right away. It was torn apart at the back.

How’d Keisha… No, there was no way she’d been able to tear it apart. Once more, a cold shower went down my spine. If not Keisha, then… what?

As if to answer me, the sound of distant rustling reached me. Then I heard the soft, inner fabric ahead of me being torn apart. It sounded as if something was cutting through it.

My body froze, my fingers were clutching onto the flashlight and I watched in disbelief as a tunnel at the end of the chamber started shaking. The sound of something taking a long, strained breath reached me and with it I heard the distorted version of Keisha’s meow again.

A quiet, high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth, and I scrambled backwards, away from the sounds ahead of me.

When something touched my back, I screamed. For a moment, I flailed around, trying to find whatever was attacking me. Then I heard a well-known meow, this time undistorted, followed by a small hiss. When I turned around, I saw Keisha behind me.

She looked terrified. Her little cat-eyes were wide open and I could see she was limping.

I instantly got a hold of her and cuddled her between my arms. For a second, she let me before she freed herself and snuck past me again.

“No, Keisha, wait,” I called out, but when I looked after her, I was confused. The slope was gone. Instead, I saw the very first bend right behind me.

I crawled back and pushed myself around the bend. Once more, I barely fit, but when I’d made it, Keisha was sitting there, waiting for me.

Half a minute later, I’d made it back outside and had escaped from suitcase land.

Still shaking and sweating, I stared at the construction in front of me and measured it up with my eyes. Even the longest part of this damned thing barely measured more than a few meters. There was no hint of any slope, no hint of a central chamber or the multitude of tunnels I’d seen.

There was no way any of what I’d just witnessed was real. No, it must’ve all been a hallucination.

Remembering Keisha, I turned around and swiftly got a hold of her. She was exhausted and clearly hurt.

I took her to the vet instantly.

When I arrived, the vet told me that Keisha was very agitated and asked me what had happened to her. I was about to tell her about suitcase land, but then I stopped and instead made up a story.

“Well, I let her out yesterday afternoon and she only returned this morning. She was hurt and limping. Maybe she got into a fight with a stray?”

The vet eyed me for a moment.

“She has a bruised leg, but it’s nothing serious. What I’m concerned about is her back. That wound’s not from another cat. It looks more like a cut, maybe from a bird, but I’ve seen nothing like it.”

After a more thorough analysis, it turned out that the back wound wasn’t as bad as initially thought. It was nothing but a scratch and had barely broken the skin.

In that instant, I remembered the torn harness. What the hell had happened to Keisha?

For now, though, I was happy to hear that she wasn’t hurt seriously and that the worst was the agitation. The vet advised me to keep her in the house for at least a week and to make sure she wouldn’t lick the wound excessively.

Once I’d made it back home, the first thing I did was to dismantle suitcase land. It didn’t take long since I tore it apart by force. I was apprehensive the entire time, afraid something or someone hiding inside would attack me.

Nothing like that happened and after only an hour suitcase land was nothing but an enormous stack of cut-open and half torn-apart suitcases.

Before long, I reasoned Keisha must’ve injured herself on one a zipper. Hell, maybe she’d somehow bitten or scratched through the harness after all.

And my experience? Nothing but hallucinations caused by an onset of the claustrophobia I didn’t know I suffered from.

Whit that, the entire story of suitcase land was over, or it would’ve been if I hadn’t remembered the GoPro.

It was still working and when I inserted the SD card into my laptop, I saw that the memory was filled with one giant video file.

It was this video that changed everything.

I watched as Keisha made her way into suitcase land like so many times before. Soon enough, though, things became strange. I watched with wide eyes as she ran through and explored ever-expanding and ever-widening tunnels.

Keisha was traveling far, far further than should’ve been possible. Before long, she ran up and down slopes, crawled through holes, and explored wide, arching chambers. It was an absolute impossibility, and yet, it was all right here, right in front of me on the screen.

And then Keisha froze, and I heard the same rustling and tearing sounds I’d heard myself. It grew closer and closer. I heard the entirety of suitcase land shake before the camera turned dark.

A second later, I heard Keisha meow, heard hear hiss furiously, followed by a snap.

The harness, I thought, that’s when the harness was cut off.

After that, the video comprised nothing but darkness, but I could still hear strained breathing nearby.

And then, to my utter horror, a figure was moving in the darkness and pushed itself closer to the camera.

A moment later, I heard the distorted imitation of Keisha’s meow again and saw a single, alien eye starting right at me.

I always loved the flea market in my city.

It wasn’t so much that I needed anything; it was just nice to go there with friends. We’d have a look around at all the things available, have some beers and enjoy the weather.

The best time to go was during summer. The place was always packed with people and merchants selling all sorts of things. You could find vintage LPs, old classical books, and a lot of strange memorabilia. It was a treasure trove.

Whenever I went there, I was always on the lookout for weird things, things with a certain character. I’d bought strange figurines, weird books, old postcards or photographs, and other similar things.

The last time I was there about a month ago and this visit should end up changing my life forever.

While my friend Martin, an avid collector, had a look at a stall that sold DVDs and CDs, I checked out the other stalls nearby. It wasn’t long before I noticed an old woman who’d propped up a little camping table. On it, she’d placed about two dozen keys.

How weird was that, someone selling keys? I walked up to have a look almost instantly.

Most of the keys for display were old and rusty, yet some were strangely ornate, made of gold or other more expensive materials.

While I studied them, my friend walked up to me. His eyes went to the table in front of me, and he laughed.

“Who the hell’s going to buy a random key?” he asked.

“Oh, they are not random. They are special keys for special places,” the woman behind the table answered.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he replied, shrugged, and wandered off.

“Where are they from? Like those over here, they look really old,” I asked, pointing at one of the more rusty ones.

The woman leaned forward and explained.

“Well, those you just pointed at are from old buildings, houses that are long gone. Those over there,” she pointed at the more ornate ones, “are from old castles and forts. They were used to opening certain, hidden doors.”

My interest was piqued instantly. I don’t know why, but owning a key that used to open a secret door at a castle sounded awesome.

For a while I had a look at all the old, ornate keys before I picked up one that seemed to be made of bronze. It was richly decorated, sprouting various little twirls.

“How much for this one?”

“Dude, why the hell are you buying a stupid old key? What do you want with it?”

I sighed. Martin was back to annoy me.

“I don’t know, it looks cool,” I said, shrugging.

The woman had lifted the key and was gazing at it.

“Now, young man, you’ve picked a very special one,” she said after a while.

I couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. I was sure she was going to tell me a long elaborate story about how it was the key to Ludwig XIV’s personal sex-dungeon in the depths of Versailles.

To my surprise, she told me no such story. No, she simply nodded.

“It’s yours for two euros,” she finally said

“He takes it for one!” Martin, who loved to barter cut in.

The woman eyed him for a moment before she nodded.

“Well, for one then.”

I handed her one euro, and she handed me the key.

“You see, man, that’s how you barter! You always have to barter at the flea market!”

I sighed once more. Martin could go a bit overboard with buying things at the flea market. More than once he’d gotten into an argument over a price or walked off when a merchant didn’t want to chaff of another Euro.

While he rambled on, I looked at the key once more. It sure looked special, with all the little twirls and embellishments.

We were at the flea market for another hour and had two more beers before we made our way home. It was barely two in the afternoon, but because of the heat, I felt quite drunk.

The moment I’d made it back to my apartment, I took a nap. I slept almost all afternoon, but when I got back up in the early evening, I thankfully didn’t feel drunk anymore.

The first thing I did was to go through my backpack and sort through my newest treasures.

I had gotten a strange old picture book depicting the works of M. C. Escher and other similar artists, a framed postcard depicting some sort of surreal motif and finally the ornate bronze key.

I eyed it for a bit and couldn’t help but laugh. You could find the weirdest things at the flea market.

I put away the book, hung up the framed postcard and eventually connected the key to a chain and let it dangle from a small nail in the wall.

I considered going out to meet some friends, but after spending a good part of the day at the flea market, I didn’t feel like it. Instead, I found myself a movie on Netflix and prepared myself for a slow, chilled evening.

When I returned from the toilet at one point, my eyes wandered back to the strange key I’d bought. That design. Why was it so strange? All those little twirls and embellishments, how’d this thing ever fit anywhere?

For a while I sat there, turning it over in my hands before I got an idea. I walked up to my small storage room and to my surprise, the key was an almost perfect fit for the lock.

“Huh, what do you know it actually fits,” I brought out in surprise.

Almost without thinking, I tried turning it and realized I could. The lock clicked, then clicked again before the door sprang open.

I got a hold of the handle to close it again, but when I stared through the crack, I didn’t see my storage room and the haphazardly stocked boxes. Instead, I was staring at an entirely different room. I pushed the door open a bit more and my eyes grew wide. What I saw in front of me was a much bigger, much wider room than my small storage room, or any other room in my apartment.

An icy shiver went down my spine, and I threw the door shut. When I opened it again, the world was normal again, and all I saw was a small storage room and boxes.

It had been nothing but the trick of an eye, an optical illusion. I laughed. Of course it was.

And yet, as I held the strange, twisted key in my hands, I couldn’t help but wonder what had just happened.

‘You’ve picked a very special one,’ the old saleswoman had said.

Almost in a trance, and with slightly shaking hands, I put the key back into the lock. Once more I turned and the lock clicked once, twice, and the door opened again.

This time, I didn’t throw it shut right away, but peeked inside carefully. What I saw was some sort of grand hall. As I looked inside, I saw a rich hardwood table surrounded by hardwood chairs. The walls were clade in fine wood and sprouted ornate paintings. A huge, expensive carpet covered the floor. From where I was, I could see various golden figurines positioned on a small cupboard that stood against one wall.

What the hell? How could there be a room like this here? This was supposed to be my storage room!

Then I thought back to what the old woman had said. Some of those keys used to open hidden rooms in old castles and forts.

So was this… some sort of hidden room in an old castle?

I couldn’t help but laugh. This was silly. No, this was insane.

And yet, the room was right here, right in front of me. I could almost step inside if I so wanted.

The moment this thought crossed my mind, a strange sense of curiosity came over me. Could I really just… enter?

My eyes wandered back to the golden figurines on the cupboard. Could I just take them?

For a few moments, I was unsure and wondered if this was some sort of trick. Maybe whatever this was, was trying to lure me in. I carefully took off one of my slippers, picked it up and pushed it forward, past the threshold of the doorframe.

I don’t know what I expected to happen, but nothing did.

With that, I dropped the slipper and put it back on before I reached out with my hand. Nothing happened. My hand continued on, touching nothing but air. There was no sensation or anything. This room was really here.

Once more my eyes wandered to the cupboard and the riches on top of it.

Leaving the door open, I got a hold of a chair from the living room. Then I propped it against the door to keep it from falling shut.

Excitement washed over me as I pushed my foot forward and brought it down on the rich carpet. Then I took another step.

My heart was beating hard in my chest, and I could feel my blood rushing through my veins. My eyes darted left and right, almost expecting a door to open or someone to storm at me. When nothing happened, I hurried over to the cupboard and picked up the first of the golden figurines, then another, and finally an ornate, golden candle holder as well.

A few seconds later, I was back in my apartment. My heart was still beating fast, and I was panting. I couldn’t believe any of this. For a moment, I stared back before I threw the door in fear of repercussions.

I turned the key twice more and was happy to see my old, dusty storage room again.

A sigh of relief escaped me and I quickly put the strange, multi-dimensional key back on its little nail.

For a moment I wondered if it all had been a dream, a silly flight of fancy conjured by reading too many fantasy novels. But when I turned from the door, I noticed the golden figurines and the golden candle holder.

Almost by instinct, I picked them up and took them with me to the living room.

For long minutes I studied them, tested their weight before I couldn’t help but grin. I had no clue what these things would be worth, but I knew they had to be worth something.

At first I didn’t know what to do with them. I couldn’t very well put them on eBay and I had no clue what any of them would be worth. No, I probably had to take them to some antique store.

For the next few evenings, I busied myself on the internet, reading up on historical figurines, their worth, and searched for a reputable store.

A few days later, I put the figurines and the candleholder in a box and went on my trip.

The owner was impressed. He said this stuff was centuries old, but not shoddy or cheaply made. When he asked me where I’d got it from, I told him an elaborate story about my grandfather having been a collector of old items. I came upon them by accident while cleaning his attic and thought they might be worth something.

The man eyed me for a moment and I could tell he wondered about the authenticity of my story. Soon enough, though, his own greed pushed these doubts aside. He was quick to make me an offer, one that was pretty damn good, but I’d also done my research.

I told him I’d looked at other stores online, and similar items went for much higher prices. The man held my gaze for a few moments before he pretended to give the figurines and the candleholder another look. Then he gave me another, higher offer.

I was sure he was still ripping me off, but the four figure numbers he gave me were too good to pass for someone like me. And so, I sold. Before I could leave, however, the man smiled at me and told me if I found any other valuables amongst my grandfather’s collection, I should pay him a visit. He’d be more than happy to have a look at them.

I told him I’ll see what I can find.

It is often said that money poisons people, and after my experiences those past weeks, I wholeheartedly agree. The moment I had sold those figurines and that candleholder, the moment I’d tasted riches, was the moment I knew I’d open that door again.

The instant I was back inside my apartment, the key was in my hands again. I turned once, then twice, and the moment the door sprang open, I pushed the little box I’d still been holding between door and doorframe and ventured inside. My eyes darted left and right, back and forth, in search of anything valuable.

There were paintings. There was some silver tableware and an ornate dagger I hadn’t noticed before.

In a swift motion I got a hold of the dagger and as much of the silverware I could carry and dumped them into my hallway. A few minutes later, I had taken down all the paintings. I stared back and for a moment I considered taking even the rich hardwood chairs. Then I told myself enough was enough for today. I’d have to sell all those items first, anyway.

During my search online, I soon found another reputable buyer. The silverware turned out to lend me a good price and so did two of the paintings. The dagger, however, was the most valuable of all items I’d plundered so far because it was jeweled with various stones of value.

I couldn’t help but grin on my entire drive back. This was crazy. I was freaking rich!

The third time I ventured into the room, however, I found little of value anymore. There were a few smaller silver items I hadn’t taken until now, and an ornate vase at the end of the hall, but that was about it.

Once I had closed the door again, I couldn’t help but frown at my measly yield. Maybe I could take some chairs after all at a later point.

It wasn’t long before I wondered what else the key could do. The more money you have, the easier it is to spend it. After making a few, as I told myself, necessary purchases, I knew I could use a bit more.

The first thing I tried was my kitchen door. The key fit perfectly and I turned it once, then twice. When it sprang open, I expected to find the same room. Instead, I was greeted by what I assumed to be a small study. I couldn’t help but grin at the various items I saw there. I saw golden candle holders, an ornate oil lamp, a globe, and various other richly decorated items.

It didn’t take me long to plunder the room for everything it was worth. After that, I tried the key at my bedroom door. This time, however, it led me to a musky, dark room, most likely a cellar or something.

I cursed in frustration and threw the door shut again. Even after two more tries, the door never led me to a different room.

I realized that I’d just learned a valuable piece of information. This key, it could open the doors to rooms in a different place and time, but a single door could only ever open to a single room.

Over the course of an evening, I tried all the doors in my small apartment. While some doors led me to other dark or empty rooms, I discovered that my bathroom door led to a dressing room stacked with rich jewelry.

And yet, even though my living room table was covered in rich antique items, I wanted more.

It wasn’t long before I resorted to using different doors. The first ones I opened were the doors in my apartment building’s basement. One night, at three in the morning, I descended and tried every single door I could find.

While some of these doors led me to more valuables, I also discovered different rooms, rooms similar to that old, musty cellar my bedroom door led to.

While some of them were nothing but old sheds or musty basements, others were stranger, creepy even.

One door opened up to nothing but oppressive darkness. It wafted outside in heavy, thick swaths. I froze when I saw the outlines of something stirring in the back. For the blink of an eye, before I threw the door shut again, my eyes met something else, something staring at me from the back of the room.

It should’ve been at this moment I called it quits and gave up, but of course I didn’t. After all, only a single door could ever open to a single room, right?

And so, a few days later, all signs of danger were forgotten and any repercussions for my actions were gone. No, I told myself, if I ever noticed something strange again, I could throw the door shut and that was it.

Before long, I increased the scale of my operations. It wasn’t so much in terms of sales, but in terms of doors. I couldn’t just go around and use random doors. Eventually someone would notice what I was doing and there was no telling what would happen.

At first, I went on Airbnb and rented out random apartments in my city, using their doors to check for rooms that contained riches.

Slowly but steadily my stock of values increased and before long I had boxes upon boxes of valuables in my small apartment. I was still careful in selling them. I never went to the same store twice, never sold more than a few select items and always came prepared with a story.

But even as I made more and more money, even as I filled box upon box of valuables, my greed increased tenfold. I wouldn’t stop or give up. No, I had plans, dreams, and ideas that I’d already mapped out in my mind.

Eventually, I found what I’d been looking for.

Here, in Eastern Germany, there are many old, abandoned industrial areas. Remnants of companies that went bankrupt after the unification that were left to rot. There were entire factory complexes and old office buildings like this in my city.

Sure, they had been stripped of most of their valuables, but those weren’t of interest to me. No, what I was looking for was doors, as many as I could find. While many of the old doors had been broken down, I still found as many that were still functioning.

That’s how I came to spend many days and nights traversing old, abandoned complexes, hunting for doors and the riches behind them.

However, not every door led me to a room filled with treasures and the more doors I tried and the greedier I got, the more often I encounter other rooms.

More than once I found musty basements, or old, rotten attics. At one point, I even found myself in what was, without a doubt, a torture chamber. The smell of blood and other body fluids hung heavy in the air. I retched audibly when I opened the door and as a result I could hear rattling chains and a quiet, broken shriek that made me throw the door in an instant.

At another time, I pushed open the door, only to be greeted by a small, otherworldly study. It was only lit by few bluish candles and the moment I peeked inside, I found myself face to face with a man sitting behind a desk. When he saw me, he smiled at me and bade me to enter and join him.

As I stared at him, there was something strange about him. He was wearing a pair of thick, heavy spectacles, but even in the low light of the room, it seemed there were no eyes behind them. When he opened his mouth, I saw thick, heavy teeth that differed from any I’d ever seen. His voice, too, was almost too human, too studied.

For a long second he simple sat there, smiling at me. Then he pushed himself off his chair, throwing his body forward in my direction. I screamed and in shock and terror, I threw the door shut and locked it.

I stumbled backward, shaken and scared. What the hell was that? That man or that… thing?

I told myself to let it all go. This was getting dangerous, and I’d gathered more than enough valuables, hadn’t I? What if I encountered something worse than this man?

And yet, I couldn’t.

My mind was too filled with money, tainted by it, and only a few days later, I made my way to yet another complex.

After I’d pocketed another few handfuls of what I assumed to be rich jewelry, I’d already forgotten about the strange man-thing I’d encountered.

It was the next door, however, that changed everything.

As so often, I found a door at the end of a hallway. I turned the key twice and waited for the door to unlock. Then I carefully pushed it open.

All I could see was oppressive darkness, a darkness so heavy it wafted outside in thick swaths. For a moment, the strangest sense of Déjà vu washed over me. Hadn’t I seen this before?

Before I could do anything, a face pushed itself from the darkness ahead and came to a rest mere inches in front of me. It was a female face, but it was all wrong and strangely elongated. The moment I saw it, I cringed back.

“My oh my, I’ve been wondering when you’d be back,” it brought out in a distorted, high-pitched voice.

Every fiber in my body screamed at me to run, to get away, but I rushed forward to close the door to pull it shut in front of whatever this thing was.

I clung to the rotten door, was about to pull it shut when two giant, ghastly hands pushed themselves between door and doorframe. With a single swift motion, the door was torn from my hands and then torn from the doorframe.

The face started giggling before it vanished again in darkness. And yet, I’d never seen a body. But as I stood there, when my eyes finally got used to the darkness, I realized why. That face, that head, it was connected to an elongated neck.

Behind it, in the darkness, loomed a terrible thing, a giant, twisted abomination. I saw more faces, more mouths, more eyes, all connected to a single bloated body sprouting hundreds of arms and legs.

To the side of the creature I noticed another door, and then another.

And as the giggling grew louder as I heard it from a multitude of mouths, I realized my mistake.

A single door can never open more than one specific door. But if a room has more than one door, then… Oh god, I’d had it all wrong. And this creature, this creature knew, and it had waited for me just to make this single mistake.

When the giant creature rose, when it pulled itself closer to the door, I stumbled backward. As I dashed away and rushed down the hallway in sheer and utter terror, I heard the doorframe giving way, heard as the creature was pulling itself through it.

I only turned back once, only once. I saw dozens of heads on elongated necks, saw a disgusting bloated body and watched as a multitude of hands and feet dragged it from whatever twisted dimension this creature had been trapped in.

Then I ran. I ran and fled from the industrial area as fast as I could.

The industrial area was on the news the next day. A building had collapsed for unknown reasons, causing massive destruction. Thankfully, the area had been abandoned years ago, and no one had been harmed.

At first I was relieved, thinking that the crumbling building must’ve crushed the creature.

Sometime later, however, the first of the many missing people reports were on the news. All around this abandoned industrial area, people had disappeared and ghastly remains had been found.

By now, more than a dozen people have gone missing. Not only there, but also in other areas of my city. I don’t know what that creature is, I don’t know how it’s able to stay hidden.

But I know a single thing. It’s only because of my greed that it was unleashed upon our world.