Have you ever been so creeped out by something that it peaks your curiosity? Something so dark that the questions it brings about brings some sort of forbiddeness that you have to chase it to the end to see what unfolds? This recently happened to me at a local subway station.
I was awaiting my train to take me to work. I found myself lost in the crowd of people as I attempted to make my way onboard the train just before it departed the station. Eventually, just before the doors closed on me, I got on. I was lucky enough to find a seat close to the window that looked outward to the station I had just escaped from. In looking out I noticed something odd. There was this balding old man in stained grey clothes that appeared to not have been washed for a week. He stared forward toward the train, unblinking with a bored look drawn upon his face. His eyes moved quickly to meet mine and felt the urge to look away, however I was unable to.
The train started moving, forcing his gaze to return to staring forward, unblinking and unmoving. Just before the man left my sight, I swore I caught a glimpse of him locking eyes with me.
***
That night getting off the train to head home from a long and stressful day at work, I remembered the man on the bench. I looked for him for a few brief seconds before leaving the station. It didn't take long, for he was still sitting in the same place as before. I made my way to him and sat down next to him. I tried starting up some small talk, hoping for some kind of response. I was unsuccessful. I tried following his gaze, but found nothing but the wall on the other side of where the subway train comes in. There was nothing special about it, just a brick wall with some chipping blue paint.
I waved my hand in front of his face to not a single hint of movement. I stood from the bench and wished him a good night before heading out.
On my way out the door, a man stopped me. He told me about the guy I was sitting next to. He said the man had been sitting there every day for the past month. He comes in when the place opens and leaves when it closes. He doesn't talk, nor interact with anyone. He said he has yet to see anyone successful in getting him to do anything outside sitting and staring. It gave me some kind of an idea.
***
The next day was my day off. I figured it was a perfect opportunity to sit next to him all day and see what he does. For the first few hours, there was nothing of interest. At one point, I swore I saw him turn his head to me for a brief moment. However, this was from out of the corner of my eye as I was zoning out.
As hours passed, the population of the subway station decreased. Until eventually the sun went down and the station was down to only two people, he and I. I turned to him and asked him why he always sits here. I assured him I was the only one here and would never repeat what he said to anyone. "Because," he started. "The dead man standing on the tracks has been watching me for weeks. Every time I come back he's a few steps closer." I asked him where he was now. "A few feet in front of us. But today has been different." I asked him how it was different. "Because, now he's watching you."
I was awaiting my train to take me to work. I found myself lost in the crowd of people as I attempted to make my way onboard the train just before it departed the station. Eventually, just before the doors closed on me, I got on. I was lucky enough to find a seat close to the window that looked outward to the station I had just escaped from. In looking out I noticed something odd. There was this balding old man in stained grey clothes that appeared to not have been washed for a week. He stared forward toward the train, unblinking with a bored look drawn upon his face. His eyes moved quickly to meet mine and felt the urge to look away, however I was unable to.
The train started moving, forcing his gaze to return to staring forward, unblinking and unmoving. Just before the man left my sight, I swore I caught a glimpse of him locking eyes with me.
***
That night getting off the train to head home from a long and stressful day at work, I remembered the man on the bench. I looked for him for a few brief seconds before leaving the station. It didn't take long, for he was still sitting in the same place as before. I made my way to him and sat down next to him. I tried starting up some small talk, hoping for some kind of response. I was unsuccessful. I tried following his gaze, but found nothing but the wall on the other side of where the subway train comes in. There was nothing special about it, just a brick wall with some chipping blue paint.
I waved my hand in front of his face to not a single hint of movement. I stood from the bench and wished him a good night before heading out.
On my way out the door, a man stopped me. He told me about the guy I was sitting next to. He said the man had been sitting there every day for the past month. He comes in when the place opens and leaves when it closes. He doesn't talk, nor interact with anyone. He said he has yet to see anyone successful in getting him to do anything outside sitting and staring. It gave me some kind of an idea.
***
The next day was my day off. I figured it was a perfect opportunity to sit next to him all day and see what he does. For the first few hours, there was nothing of interest. At one point, I swore I saw him turn his head to me for a brief moment. However, this was from out of the corner of my eye as I was zoning out.
As hours passed, the population of the subway station decreased. Until eventually the sun went down and the station was down to only two people, he and I. I turned to him and asked him why he always sits here. I assured him I was the only one here and would never repeat what he said to anyone. "Because," he started. "The dead man standing on the tracks has been watching me for weeks. Every time I come back he's a few steps closer." I asked him where he was now. "A few feet in front of us. But today has been different." I asked him how it was different. "Because, now he's watching you."
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