Train ride horror stories - story 2

The train ride home was supposed to be a quiet one. Late evening, nearly empty car—just me, my earbuds, and a book to pass the time. It was the kind of solitude I usually enjoyed, but that night, something felt off. The first time I noticed him was at the third stop. A man in a long, dark coat stepped onto the car, scanning the empty seats. He had that look—you know, the type who seems too focused, like he's on a mission. I shook it off, assuming he’d pick a seat far from mine, like most people do on near-empty trains. But he didn’t. He chose a seat just a few rows back, and from the corner of my eye, I could feel his gaze fixed in my direction. I told myself not to read into it. People are weird; I’d probably never see him again. But then, at the next stop, he moved. The car was nearly deserted by that point, just a handful of scattered commuters who were quickly thinning out with each passing station. I tried to keep reading, but I could feel the weight of his presence as he slipped into a seat closer. I felt a flicker of discomfort but pushed it down. Maybe he was just looking for the best view or wanted a different seat. But then he moved again at the next stop, now only a row behind me. I glanced up, trying to catch his eye in the reflection of the window. He was staring, eyes locked on me with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. My mind raced. Should I move? Get off at the next station? I felt trapped, like a mouse under a cat’s gaze. The train pulled into the next station, and I willed someone—anyone—to board. But no one did. The car was empty now. Just me and him. With a pounding heart, I stood up, clutching my bag, hoping to slip out and change cars before the doors closed. But as soon as I moved, he rose too, blocking the aisle. He didn’t smile or say anything, just stood there, watching me. “Is there a problem?” I asked, my voice steady despite the fear twisting in my stomach. He tilted his head, considering me like a puzzle he was figuring out. “No problem. Just thought you looked…familiar,” he said slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Every instinct screamed for me to get out of there, but I couldn’t move. “I don’t think we’ve met,” I replied, taking a small step back. The train doors slid shut, and the train jolted forward, locking us in the same confined space. He took a step closer, and I felt my pulse quicken. “Are you sure? You seem like someone I’d remember.” I backed away until I hit the side of the car, keeping my eyes on him. He didn’t break his gaze, his expression almost predatory. “Look, I’m just trying to get home,” I said, trying to sound confident, though my hands were trembling. He laughed softly, a sound that sent a chill down my spine. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, though his tone hinted at something darker. He was close enough now that I could see a faint scar across his jaw, the glint of something unsettling in his eyes. My mind raced through my options. We were still a few stops from the end of the line. I could pull the emergency brake or try to dart past him, but he seemed ready for that, watching my every move. Finally, I took a breath, steadying myself. “Why don’t you get off at the next stop?” I suggested, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “Maybe I like this train. Or maybe I just like the company,” he replied with a smirk. His gaze drifted up and down, and I felt my skin crawl. The train slowed down, pulling into the next station. The doors slid open, and I made a snap decision. I darted forward, catching him off guard as I bolted past him toward the exit. I barely squeezed out before the doors closed behind me, and I stumbled onto the empty platform, my heart pounding. I turned around, expecting to see his face pressed against the glass, but the windows were empty. The train rolled away into the night, carrying him with it. I waited, breathless, watching until it disappeared into the distance. The station was silent, the air thick with an eerie calm. Alone on the platform, I finally let out a shaky breath, my mind racing with everything that had just happened. I’ll never know who he was or what he wanted, but one thing was certain: I’d narrowly escaped something far worse than just a creepy encounter. And from that night on, I made sure I was never alone on the train that late again.