SCP-052 - Time-Traveling Train
Object Class: Euclid
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In the dimly lit control room of Site-21, Dr. Martinez leans over a bank of monitors, eyes fixed on the feed from the underground subway station. Outside, the 59th St. station is cordoned off, guarded by armed personnel. The clock reads 11:55 p.m.
Dr. Martinez: (muttering) It's almost time. The train should be here any second.
In the corner, Agent Harris checks his equipment, a grim expression on his face.
Agent Harris: You think it's really going to show up again? After all these years?
Dr. Martinez: (nodding) It always does, precisely at 11:57 p.m. It's like clockwork. The question is, what's it doing when no one's watching?
Suddenly, a faint rumble echoes. The monitors flicker, then stabilize. A sleek, vintage subway train—labeled "A"—appears silently on the tracks.
Agent Harris: (staring) There it is. Looks… pristine. Like it just rolled off the assembly line.
Dr. Martinez: No damage, no rust. No passengers, just the train itself. Remember, no one boards it voluntarily. We've seen what happens to those who do.
The train's doors open with a soft hiss. A five-minute window appears on the timer.
Dr. Martinez: Alright, team, move in. Secure the train.
Two agents board cautiously, scanner guns at the ready. Inside, the train is eerily empty—no signs of life, no noise. The air is thick with an inexplicable stillness.
Agent Harris: (whispering) No one's been inside for years. It's like stepping into a ghost train.
They step further, approaching the driver's cabin. Suddenly, a faint whispering fills the air, as if voices echo from nowhere.
Voice (whispering): The cleverest… shall see the truth.
Agent Harris: (jumps) Did you hear that?
Dr. Martinez: (frowning, voice low) Stay alert. This thing's haunted, or worse.
One of the agents reaches out to examine the control panel. The train suddenly jerks, as if alive. The doors slam shut behind them, and the lights flicker.
Agent Harris: (panicking) It's moving?! How?!
Dr. Martinez: (trying to access the controls) It's not responding to any commands. It's like it's… alive.
The train accelerates smoothly. The agents are thrown back as the train speeds down the tunnel.
Voice (again, whispering): To the cleverest… the secrets of time.
Agent Harris: (clinging to the seat) What the hell is this thing? It's like it's alive, but it's not.
Dr. Martinez: (frantic) We need to shut it down! Or at least track where it's going!
The train suddenly slows and comes to a stop. The doors open again, revealing a platform unfamiliar and strange, filled with flickering, ancient advertisements.
Agent Harris: (looking around) This… isn't New York anymore.
Dr. Martinez: (checking his tablet) Coordinates… this is decades, maybe centuries in the past.
The whispering voices grow louder.
Voice: The past holds the key… to the cleverest.
Agent Harris: (nervously) We're in some kind of temporal loop. We're riding the literal ghost train.
Suddenly, a figure appears on the platform—an elderly man in a tattered coat, staring at the train.
Elderly Man: (softly) You've come for the secrets, haven't you? The train shows you what you seek—truth, power, knowledge.
Dr. Martinez: (raising his gun) Stay back! Who are you?
Elderly Man: (smiling faintly) I've been waiting… for the cleverest to arrive. The train brings those who seek the answer.
The train begins to glow faintly, flickering between worlds. The whispers turn into a chorus.
Voice: The cleverest… will see beyond the veil.
The train's doors close, and it begins to move again, silently disappearing into the tunnel.
Agent Harris: (breathless) Did we just ride into the past? Or is this some kind of nightmare?
Dr. Martinez: (staring at the empty platform) Whatever it is, I think we've just scratched the surface. The train's not just a ghost—it's a messenger.
Outside, the station remains silent. The train vanishes, leaving only questions behind, as the shadows whisper secrets of time and knowledge.
End.