Speaker 1: Welcome to Scary Story podcast. On a late night train home,
a woman steps on, but when does she leave? My
name is Edwin and he's a scary story. It was
one of those late nights. I don't know what I
was doing out at that time. I had no fun
out there, loud music, bad food, and everyone talking to
everyone except for me. I didn't feel bad for myself though.
I was like this all the time, and so I
was grabbing some cold snacks from the vetting machine despite
it being extremely cold above ground. But there was something
about the subway that made it warmer. Too warm. Sometimes
there's only one other person on the platform, a guy
carrying a brown bag stained with oil across from the tracks.
He took out the yellow wrapper, took a huge bite
off of sandwich, stuffed four or five fries in his
mouth all at once, and then made eye contact with me.
He put the food back in the bag and turned
toward the wall before leaning in again, stuffing a bunch
of food into his mouth. I could feel the wind
of the train coming from the tunnel to my left.
One of the last ones of the night. I was
ready to go home. The train operator signaled me to
move back away from the platform as it zoomed past
me and squeaked to a stop. Doors opened. He stepped
inside and sat on the seat immediately to the right
of the door. It was completely empty. My hand instinctively
went for my phone and opened up Instagram. No signal.
I went to my downloaded music, scrolled through the same
playlist I always listened to, and press play. There was
something about being out so late that I loved the
night by myself, and only those who are looking for
something stay out, and those who have it stay indoor.
Unfortunately for me, I hadn't worked out yet, but still
there was comfort I felt in that tube going who
knows how fast, just seven exits away from my stop.
That wouldn't last. At the second stop, a man with
who appeared to be his elderly mother entered through the
door on my far left. On the next cart, I
briefly looked in their direction before switching my attention back
to my phone. There was an itch to look like
when you see a beautiful girl, but didn't quite appreciate
the split second glance you did. I want to see
her again without seeming like a creep. That feeling suddenly
took over me. So I rolled my eyes up to
see them again. When I made eye contact with the
older woman as she smiled at her son and briefly
looked toward me, the lights blinked above them as he
walked slowly toward the connector between the two train cars.
I quickly turned my gaze down on my playlist, the
same seventeen songs I've had for years, with a few
added and others removed every few months. I turned toward
the mom and son again, this time making eye contact
with both. As an inch closer to where I was.
They talked and laughed and giggled like two drunks getting
out of a club. The train beeped and announced the
next stop. They were in front of me, seemingly unaware
of my existence. I could smell the cheap perfume and
alcohol coming from both of them. But when the train
stopped and the door next to me opened, they said
goodbye to each other and away. That clearly told me
that they were not mother and son. The man stepped out,
while she waved like a teenager at him. Doors closed,
and she simply stood there next to me in an
empty train car. I couldn't scroll very much on my
short playlist. So I put my phone away and sat there,
looking at our reflections on the glass windows again, the
darkness of the tunnel, and between the ads for Jesse
u a lawyer, and Jill's or Institute on either side
of the windows across from me, a reflective eye contact,
if you will. When the lights would flicker, I could
tell that her wrinkles were deeper than I had thought,
and even though I was right next to her, I
knew that I could not look up. But then she
made the first move. She grabbed onto the pole next
to me and bent her head toward mine. I looked up,
seeing her deeply stained yellow teeth darkened in between them
as she smiled, her grin almost reaching her ear low,
and her nose large and droopy. It was her eyes
that got me, deep dark, sunken into her face. I
thought of those who were about to go at that instant,
those that sat alone in their wheelchairs and empty dark hallways,
the smell of death only becoming stronger. I could feel
the chill of her body like frost from where she
was standing, and all I could do was watch her
through the glass as her head bobbed up and down
from the movement of the train another weirdo, hopefully, I
thought to myself as I turned my head toward her.
I tried to smile, I really did, but I was
so thrown off by how she was positioned in her face,
almost blocking my way out, that all I did was
roll my eyes and then look down again. Discomfort was
not the right word for this. I thought of fear,
if that helps. My legs went cold as they became
ready to run. I thought of many things at that moment.
I could easily attack, push her back, and deny any wrongdoing.
Maybe self defense, but she was an elderly woman, maybe
losing it. I could scow to see away and show
that I was scared, But instead I looked around. By
pure chance, I had the idea to look behind me
at the window as my eye caught the sign of
the elderly and disabled seating. So I got it. I
stood up and offered my seat. Mind you, there were
dozens of seats all over the train, so I found
it strange that she wanted that specific one. But as
you get older, you start being either pickier with everything
or not caring about anything at all, and this lady
obviously cared about this seat. I put my hand on
the seat to my right and stood up. I looked
down at where I was sitting as I extended my
hand over the seat I had just left. My hand
was still signaling while she kept staring at me with
those cold eyes. As the train came to a stop,
the doors opened and her eyes finally let go of
my face. She stepped out, murmuring something to herself, before
suddenly stopped, turning around and staring right at me. I
could see her entire face now, the crooked lips and
hair coming out of her nose, her missing teeth, and
what looked like hundreds of moles on her neck, dark
and bundled up over each other, like bubbles or grapes
about to burst. I swear that if those doors would
have taken another second longer, I would have ran to
the next car. But just as I got ready, the
doors began to close. She simply stood there, looking into
my eyes and didn't lose sight of me until the
train went back into the tunnels. I was the only
person on the train again, four more stops to go.
It was not uncommon to encounter these types of people
on the train, especially at night, and normally they wouldn't
creep me out like this. There was something about the encounter,
her behavior, and the way she moved around the train
that made me feel very uneasy. Even sitting on the
same seat made me feel uncomfortable. So I stood up,
went across the aisle and sat on the opposite side,
now facing the door that had just closed. I could
now see my own reflection against the glass that separated
me from the dark tunnel once again. But the urge
to look at the window came over me, and so
I looked up, only to see the woman's face against
the glass from the outside of the train. I stood
up and tumbled back toward the door, my elbow hitting
the safety bar hard and didn't even bother with it
at first, so I quickly found my footing it looked
out toward the window again. She was gone. It was late,
I thought to myself. I need to get home now.
The lights were flickering again as I sat there, angry
with myself for coming out that night. It could have
been at home watching something on TV, asleep, maybe trying
out the new pizza place everyone was talking about. But no,
here I was somewhere underground, speeding along in this piece
of metal. As my mind started wondering what had just happened.
I looked over at the end of the train, only
four cars deep, but it looked infinite as the reflections
died from around me and the lights from the station
took over, doors opened and then shut three more stops remaining.
The train did a weird turn at this part of
the ride. When it was crowded during the day, everyone
except for those with suitcases, new to hold on to
dear life around here, but since it was and I
was the only one, I simply sat there, staring at
my own reflection in between flickers. As the train moved
and the turn started. The train squeaked as it pushed
me forward and rattled. The lights turned off completely and
then flickered even more, and then it came to a
complete stop. Train will be starting up in a few seconds.
Stand by, I heard the conductor say. I had my
phone on my hand as I try to find the
position for me to turn on the screen after hitting
the volume button by mistake, and then it finally came on.
But then right in front of me, I started seeing
the strangest formations floating in the air right by my
phone strings waving in and out in an organized chaos,
like a looming orchestra sound waves in the air. They
were exploding into tiny clouds. When suddenly I felt the
cold there again. I turned the screen around so it
faced away from me, and with that amount of light
I was able to see the same dress from earlier.
The woman was right in front of me again. I
turned the phone toward her face and I could see
her features, the deep grooves in her face, the hillow teeth.
And then the train started up again, and in front
of me was nothing but the reflection on the other
side of the train. It was me. My neck was
beginning to sweat, and I could feel it against the
cold dare of the train. I looked around it in
both directions, and stood up briefly to look behind the seats.
There was nothing there. The train stopped with no announcement.
This time. The doors opened for just a second and
then closed two more stops. Now, I tell you I
had no idea what was happening to me that night.
I hadn't drank anything, I had gotten good sleep, Everything
was in order, and I had done this trip many
times before. But I was tired. That's the one doubt
in my mind that I have whenever I relive what
happened that night. I thought it would be a good
idea to walk around, maybe get some blood flowing to
wake me up, although again I was awake, just tired
from walking around and waiting in line with my friends earlier.
But I followed my own advice. I was almost home,
so I walked down toward where the two cars connect,
closer to the front. This time. The lights flickered a
little less there, and I knew there was another person,
another human on the other side of that door at
the end by the sign and the ad for the
lawyer do not block train conductor only the sign said
the train was coming to a stop. Then it walked
over the door to double check the signs at the station.
When I saw her, she was standing by the platform
on the other side of the tracks. I lean back,
not losing her from my sight. And when I tell
you that I saw her rush toward the bus at
an inhuman pace, I know few will believe me. But
it was so quick I thought that I was having
a stroke or losing it. Somehow, she made it. In
those few seconds that the door was opened to the car.
The last one of the train. How she got there
I will never know, unless she had somehow been in
the train the whole time, playing a sick game with
the reflections and flickers of the lights. I stood up
as she started walking toward me, the lights flickering above her.
As she got closer to the connector and between the
last two train cars, her body was twisting, hunched, and fragile.
As she finally made it to the next all I
could do was wait. I looked up at the sign,
hoping that the scrolling announcement for Millard Street would pop
up in those red letters. It was pointless. This woman
was getting closer with every bump and every squeak of
the breaks as my heart flickered along with the lights.
No no, no, no, no no, I said to myself
as I looked up at the fading lights and the
train becoming silent again. The tunnels became quiet and the
bump stopped. I could hear the woman's feet dragging closer
to me as she stumbled around to grab the bars
that went from floor to ceiling. There was a certain
rattle I remember, like wooden jewelry or beads. As she
made her way across the train. She was almost on
the section where I sat. I could sense it, and
those few seconds felt like forever as I heard her
dragging herself, moaning in pain. As she approached. I could
hear the clicks through the door behind me where the
train conductor was training starting back up stand by, I
heard through the speakers. The train started moving as the
lights went back on. The old woman was still there,
her eyes fixated on my face as she moved closer
to me, pain and bad intentions on her face. I
got distracted for an instant by the scrolling letters behind
her and me announcing Millard's Street. The train was slowing
down as she was approaching, and so I stood up,
my back flat against the walls of the train as
I inched over the door, ready to leave. As soon
as they slid open with the breaking of the train,
the woman stumbled forward, hitting her face against the seats
right by me. She got to her knees, looked up
at me, and pulled herself up. Just as the doors opened.
I stepped out, stumbling over the gap of the train
and the platform. I glanced back at the woman as
she gave me a cold, menacing stare and She opened
her mouth slowly you, she started. You can see you
can see me, she said. Fear spread across her face,
sadness of a kind that had never witnessed before, that
of a hopeless, desperate person, of loss, of pure terror.
You can see me, she cried through whispers. You can
see me, you can see me. Tears were rolling down
her face, and then her expression changed to anger, the
kind I had never seen before. She kept yelling, you
can see me, you can see me. You can see
the door shut. She pounded against the glass doors as
I watched her move away from the platform and into
the darkness of the tunnels. Scary Story podcast is written
and produced by me Edwin ko Arubas. You can find
me on Scary Story podcast dot com and across social
media as Edwin cove. That's E d W I n
c V. And if you just found the show, welcome.
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You also send me a message and I'll answer any
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much for listening. Keep it scary everyone see you sooner.