Chapter One - Beginning

Harsh words pierced the dreary silence and echoed round the empty train station. A small boy with yellow hair looked down at the dirty tiled floor, twisting his fingers together, trying to ignore the woman stood over him. She was shrieking all sorts of horrible things. How could she say such horrible words? The boy was barely five years old, not even started school yet.1

When the woman stopped to draw in breath, he raised his head and started screaming bloody murder. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to cover his mouth with her hands. Her long, red nails scraped his delicate cheeks painfully, but he pushed against them in a desperate bid to get free. Saliva spattered his face as she started screaming, drowning out the boys pitiful wails. He heard a train rumbling down the tracks.2

Please, please let it stop here! the toddler thought, but it whizzed past in a moment. One moment could have made such a huge difference, maybe switching the boys mind to an actual toddlers, destroying the brain that was years older than it should be.3

Just then, the mad woman bent down to his shoulder. The toddler thought she was going to pick him up for one scary second. But all she did was simply whisper ‘Sweet dreams, Mihael.’ in his ear. He stepped back in shock when her claw-like fingers gripped his waist, slipping off the platform and onto the tracks. He landed on his back, but quickly scrambled to his tiny feet and ran over to the platform edge. The madwoman was laughing at the poor childs fear and panic arose when he heard the faint sounds of a train clattering towards them.4

‘Hey!’5

The blond childs heart skipped a beat. Someone had heard the crazy womans screams! He mgiht have a chance of escaping a tragic death! He kept screeching whilst the security guard wrestled with the woman, acknowledging the fact the train sounded very close by now. The guard slipped out of the woman’s’ reach and jumped onto the tracks to get the screaming child. She came down too. She was gripping the guards sleeve like her life depended on it.6

Oh, the irony.7

Almost as soon as the toddler was up on the platform, the train shot out of the tunnel like a bullet. A terrible crunching sound ensued, along with splatters of blood and the last remnants of a crazy woman’s scream dying out quickly. The edge of the platform was dripping with blood. It had spattered the boy as well, but he neither noticed nor cared. He sat on the floor, well away from the edge of the platform, and waited until someone came to find him.8

A shadow of the child that had been there just minutes ago.9