The train had long since retired, leaving the ancient train tracks in Crestwood, a tiny hamlet, as a forgotten relic. However, a strange sound that sounded like a far-off drummer could be heard on the coldest nights. It was a distant, rhythmic clanging.
Emma, then a little girl, and her pals challenged each other to go to the abandoned station one crisp October evening. They gathered close together, the beams from their flashlights shaking as they made their way toward the rusting tracks. The banging grew louder as they got closer, like an old-fashioned clock chiming.
Abruptly, a dim glow emerged in the distance. Emma felt her heart quicken. Trying to appear bold, she muttered, “It’s just a flashlight.” However, when the light intensified, they realized it was not your typical beam. The train was radiant, its
Never talking about what had happened that night, they fled back to town. The ancient station remained deserted, but every October, when the wind howled and the moon was full, they could still hear the rhythmic clanging, which served as a reminder of the mysterious midnight train that only the most courageous people were allowed to board.
