[center][h1]34[sup]th[/sup] Street Station[/h1][h2]Gateway "Charon"[/h2][h3]7:45 - March 1[sup]st[/sup], 2020[/h3]
[hr][i][h3][sub]“Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.” [/sub][/h3][/i]
― John Milton, Paradise Lost[/center]
[hr]

They say that man's imagination is what can scare him the most, that it is the mind which translate every pitter-patter and every low, windy howl into foot steps and whispers from the darkness and man simply scares himself. There is nothing to fear but fear itself, fear which the human mind creates on its own from the most minute of sensory details. The things we see in the dark is nothing but our eyes playing tricks and the low moans we hear is nothing but our ears deceiving us. Some clam that ghosts aren't real others say they are. But Edward knew better.

There are things worse than ghosts roaming the lost Mythic Line with its purple-lined stations and something even worse than the reborn who clam it home as some say.

It had been well over a day since Edward and his team had slept, nearing the 36 hour mark although all of them had been awake for roughly 48 hours if you count the various catnaps and rests they took across the span of roughly two days. It only takes 3 days without sleep until you start hallucinating, knowing that the 4 man patrol longed for proper bedding but it was their duties as Sentinels to remove those thoughts from their heads until the mission was over. It was just a routine patrol and clean run, go in and take a look, stay a while and kill some locals and hope you aren't driven mad by fear. Simple stuff but when you see moving shadows in flickering lights and footsteps from all angles with no bodies to make them, things get a little hard for those without the strongest of wills.

Thankfully, Edward and his team had not to worry or care about that much longer, not that they did to begin with. It wasn't their first rodeo and it surely wouldn't be their last but they had long gotten used to the unique [i]atmosphere[/i] of the lost Ghost Line. The walls of Gateway Charon welcomed the Sentinels, luring them in with the sweet scent of heated rations. Gateways were the special outpost-stations that sit on old transfer stations to the now lost line that once connect the great underground New York metro system; they were the only thing remotely "civilized" that would sit on the purple line.

"Braveheart!" one of the guards called down from the top of the subway train wall, "How's the ghosty line?"

"Lookin' just fine Travis," Edward heaved a wide grin as the powerful lights shone on him, "Some more reborn on the rails and stuff, nothin' big."

"How 'bout them ghosts and phantoms?" Travis the guard leaned on the barricade and gave a shit eating grin.

"They sure make a hell of lotta noise for being dead 'n all. You wanna come with me next time?" Edward shouldered his SMG and walked under the same train Travis was on as its doors where cranked open to let in the patrol.

"Nah man, I like it up here where I can see 'em ya know."

"'Fraid that ghosts don't care if you can see 'em though Travis, not to my knowledge." Edward chuckled at the banter between him and Travis. Travis was one of the newer kids, one of them "one week wonders" as some of the old guard called them, Rail Guards who got at best a week's worth of training instead of the former month that most of them went through; some old guards even only expected them to last a week too. Edward had nothing of the like seeing as he was never technically trained at all, he was one of the "founders", a title looked at with equal parts awe and snootiness from both the old guard and one week wonders.

"Edward, I need you for a second," Jacob the so called "Station Master" of Gateway Charon -those who acted as the overall head of each individual station- pulled the Sentinel over to the side, "Do you know where Chris's team is? Did you see them in the tunnels? They were suppose to check in a few hours ahead of you but they still haven't arrived."

"No sir." Edward took off and stowed his headlamp, "I haven't seen a trace of Chris or his team but I made contact with Twitch's and Alice's. You sure they didn't get off at 74th and Broadway or 34th and Penn?"

Jacob shook his head and leaned against a wall, "I've sent runners and radio messages to most of the Gateways, they say they haven't seen Chris's team either. Besides, he's also not stupid enough to go into the Times Square line so that's out of the picture, not like nobody goes there anyways."

Scratching his chin, Edward sat down next to a camp fire and thought, "Maybe he-"

"HELP! HELP! THEY'RE COMING! OH GOD HELP ME!", a voice shouted from down the long tunnel followed by frantic pistol shots. Station Master Jacob called everyone to arms with the tired Edward rushing to a spot along the wall. More screaming echoed down the walls as Edward felt his heart rate increase and adrenaline flowing through his veins once more. The Station Master pulled out his own revolver and paced along walls, "Steady men... steady..."

The calm, commanding tone of his voice contrasted sharply against the panicked screams and cries of the men running towards them, "I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY!" another one yelled as their pounding feet banged against the ground. The man suddenly came into view, his clothing all tattered and covered in blood and muck, his face plastered with dust and sweat as his flailing limbs hurtled him down the tracks into the doors.

There was a murmuring amongst some of the men as medics carried the violently twitch man back towards a makeshift medical center, his eyes darting like hunted prey. "Grab hold of yourself soldier!" Station Master Jacob roared before his backhand delivered some sense into the man, "What happened? Where's the rest of your team?" No one said anything, but Edward already knew that that man was part of Chris's team, or what was left of it."

"M-my name i-is... l-l-linemm-man Rivers... m-muh name iz l-lineman Ri-rivers-" River's survival mantra was interrupted by another backhand curtsey of the Station Master. Lineman was the designated term for the rank and file Rail Guardsman or so-called "one week wonders" referring to their station of posts on a certain line. All linemen were taught a survival mantra of their name and rank to keep their heads straight if they felt like they were breaking. Although what the hell a lineman was doing in the Ghost Line was beyond Edward's comprehension.

River's hyperventilation soon slowed as his speech was less and less slurred and could be properly understood, "I was o-on my n-normal patrol route on the R-red line with my squad. Th-then I felt something inside of me but I couldn't find it, I just felt like something was wrong you know? Like when there's a cold down your back in a warm room. So I told my squad leader but then everything went dark like [i]boom[/i]! Nothing, couldn't see anything. I was out cold. When I woke up I saw that there was another like me and we were trapped in a room full of dead bodies. I t-think one of them was a Sentinel? Guy's name was... was... Jim... yeah, Jim. So me and Jim get the hell out of dodge b-but then a whole bunch of [i]them[/i] came after us so we r-ran but then we saw something. Something... scary.. with those haunting yellow eye. Sa-saw nothing really but its big ol' shadow, an outline of something horrifying. I f-fired my gun but they got Jim. Oh god, Jim..."

Rivers started bawling as the nurses began to comfort him, Jacob immediately ordered a fresh team of Sentinels to probe the area, granting them additional members for added protection. Within tense 30 minutes they came back but according to them, they found nothing. No body, no blood, not even foot prints. It was like it didn't even happen. Rivers on the other hand was dead sure that it happened, urging them to look again but his request was denied and Jacob ordered him to be put on the next train back to the Orange Line for proper treatment.

Edward on the other hand just waited all of this out. Sure it unnerved him, but the Purple line was called the Ghost Line for a reason. Such events like this was all too common for his taste, he shuttered a few times during River's story as he pondered his own luck and existence here. Dangerous job this was, but it made him feel worth while, like he was doing something but at the end of the day, Edward knew he'd pay the price for it. 

With his energy sapping, the adrenaline rush long gone, and his eyes droopier than ever, he lumbered his way to the stop and got on the first train that came. He barely got himself into a seat before his head dropped and he began snoring. The day had only technically begun but it felt like it should have ended a long time ago for Edward.