Last Night I Boarded the Last Train to Hell

It was my third week living in a small town called Guardala. It wasn't even an option. The company I worked for had just opened a unit in that town, and as one of the senior employees, I was assigned to oversee the opening process. I was required to stay there for three to four months.

Guardala wasn't a bad place. As a matter of fact, it was one of the quietest and most beautiful small towns I had ever been to.

I enjoyed the peacefulness—the chirping sounds of birds, the flowing water in the river, and the rustling of trees swayed by the wind.

The apartment my company rented for me was about a 15-minute train ride away or a 45-minute trip by bus. So, when I had to work overtime until nearly midnight that day and there were no buses available, the only option left to go home was by train.

I stood on the train station platform, raised my hand to check the time on my wristwatch, and wondered when the next train would arrive.

It was 11:45 PM, and I still saw a few people standing there, waiting for the last train.

Then, a few minutes later, precisely at 11:50 PM, I saw an oncoming train entering the station.

"There it is," I thought.

The train stopped and opened its doors. I looked around. There were about five or six other people, but no one seemed to move. I was the only one who stepped inside.

One of the ladies standing just a few meters from me looked startled when she saw me board the train.

"Isn’t this supposed to be the last train?" I wondered as I took a seat. The train car I was in wasn’t full, which made sense since it was nearly midnight. But it was at least half-occupied, which seemed odd for this late hour.

As I waited for the train to arrive at my station, I pulled out my phone to check if I had any messages from friends, family, or colleagues.

There was one. It was from Caleb.

Caleb was my coworker. He was a local and had also worked overtime with me that night. But his place was just around the corner from the office.

"Hey, man," Caleb said in his text. "I don't know if anyone has ever told you this, but I guess it's better to tell you regardless. I forgot to mention it back at the office."

"The last train in this town is precisely at 12:00 midnight," Caleb continued. "The previous one is at 11:15 PM. So, if you ever see a train arriving between 11:15 and 12:00, do not board it."

The message was sent at 11:10 PM—right when I had just left the office.

"Why?" I asked.

Caleb replied quickly. "Let’s just say there's an urban legend about it that’s been around for generations. No one boards a train that arrives between 11:15 and 12:00. Do not get on."

Was that why the lady at the platform seemed startled when she saw me board?

"But why? It's just a train," I texted back. "I mean, I can just get off at the next station if it takes me the wrong way."

"Why do you sound like you're already inside the train?" he asked.

"I am," I replied. "The train arrived at 11:50 PM, and I hopped in. It’s already departed."

It took him a while to respond. Then, he replied with only one word:

"Shit."

Okay. That was odd.

"Care to explain, Caleb?" I typed. But before I could send the message, my phone lost signal. No texts, no calls, no internet. Nothing.

Weird.

I looked out the window and noticed something strange. I had taken this train countless times, but never once had I seen mountains through the windows.

Guardala was a beach town. It didn’t even have a single mountain.

I had no idea where the train was headed, but it didn’t seem like I had any other options.

So I remained seated.

I looked out the window again and saw a tunnel ahead. Within minutes, the train entered. Pitch darkness. Apart from the dim lighting inside the train, there was nothing. No lights. No signs.

Then, I felt the train slowing down. Slowly… slowly… until I saw the light ahead at the end of the tunnel.

I didn’t know why, but I had a bad feeling.

The moment the train exited the tunnel, I immediately saw a train station. That should have been a good thing. But something about the station looked eerie—wrong.

The station’s walls, pillars, and ceilings were decorated with jagged rocks, as if it had been built inside a cave. The train slowed down more and more until it eventually stopped.

I looked out the window. There were people standing on the platform, as if they were waiting to board.

The moment the train stopped and the doors opened, an earthquake suddenly struck. The station’s walls and floor cracked open, and from those cracks, flames burst out.

The station turned scorching hot.

It felt like hell.

The passengers inside the train erupted in chilling cries. They screamed in horror, realizing what was about to befall them.

Then, just seconds after the flames burst from the cracks, the people standing on the platform transformed.

They became monstrous—three meters tall, with red skin and golden horns protruding from their heads.

Demons.

The passengers screamed even louder.

Three demons stood in front of my train car. Each one smashed a window, grabbed a passenger by the head, yanked them through the broken glass, and hurled them into the fiery cracks.

I watched as the passengers struggled, trying to claw their way out of the flames. Their screams of agony echoed through the station. But one of the demons walked up and shoved their heads deeper into the fire.

In seconds, they were gone.

Consumed by fear, I instinctively ran out the train’s door and past the demons, who were too busy grabbing and throwing people into the flaming cracks to notice me.

I had no idea what lay beyond the platform full of enraged demons, but staying there wasn’t an option. So I ran—through the station of hell.

The next chamber I entered was even worse. People were being punched to pieces by the same kind of demons I had seen earlier. But they didn’t die. Seconds after being torn apart, their bodies regenerated—only to be shattered again. Over and over.

Was there any way out of this hellish place?

Anything at all?

I didn’t stop running, despite witnessing countless forms of human torture around me. Strangely, none of the demons seemed to pay attention to me. Or so I thought.

Then, without warning, a giant, red hand grabbed me by the torso.

It was one of the demons.

“This is the end of me”, I thought.

The demon lifted me to its eye level, staring intently, as if trying to observe me. I braced myself, expecting it to bite my head off. Instead, it let out a deafening growl right in my face.

It growled so loud, so close, it felt like my eardrums were about to explode.

Then, unexpectedly, the demon raised its arm—me still in its grasp—and hurled me back toward the train platform. I crashed into the jagged ceiling before plummeting hard to the ground.

Pain shot through my entire body. It felt like some of my bones were fractured, if not already broken. But I forced myself up, thinking of trying to run past the demon, hoping for another way out.

It growled again. Then it charged at me.

What choice did I have?

None.

I turned and ran back to the train. It was still there, its door open. I sprinted as fast as my battered body allowed, diving inside just as the demon reached the threshold.

But it didn’t follow me in.

It stopped right outside the train’s door. It didn’t try to step in. It didn’t even try to reach for me.

It just stood there. Silently.

I took a look around. The car was empty. No one else was there. All of the passengers had been thrown into the fiery cracks. All of them.

No one was left.

No one but me.

Yet none of the demons tried to take me. Not a single one.

From the next train car, I heard the same bloodcurdling screams. It was happening there too.

When the demons were done, silence fell.

Then, as if nothing had happened, the demons transformed back into human forms. All the cracks were reversed and disappeared. The fire was gone. The train station's platform returned to normal.

Seconds later, the train doors closed, and the train departed.

I was alive. But…

What the hell was that?

I stayed in my seat, waiting for the train to stop at the next station. I didn’t know where it would take me, but it could be worse than the last one.

Minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity. Then, finally, the train arrived at another station.

It looked familiar.

It was the station near my office. The very place where I had boarded the cursed train.

As soon as the doors opened, I wasted no time. I leaped onto the platform.

The moment I stepped off, the train pulled away, disappearing into the darkness.

I looked around. No one was there.

I remembered a large digital clock hanging near the platform.

12:01 AM.

Everything I had just experienced had lasted only 11 minutes. But it felt like forever. Then, my phone vibrated. The signal had returned. It was a message from Caleb.

"Well, I can't really tell you for sure where that train goes," he wrote. "I honestly don’t know. The legend has been around for generations. Some of our great-grandparents accidentally boarded it—and, thankfully, returned to tell the story. They said the train took them to hell. Or something like it."

"But that was generations ago," he continued. "We all know there shouldn’t be any trains between 11:15 and 12:00, so no one dares to board one—even if they see it."

"I’ve seen it a few times," he admitted. "But I never got on. And I never planned to."

I thought that was his last message. But then another one came.

"So, I don’t know if the train actually goes to hell or not."

I tapped the reply button on my chat app and responded to Caleb.

"It does."