Nevermore

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Edgar opened one eye to a slit.

The passenger car jostled, and there arose from beneath, one long metal-on-metal cry. The sound squealed above the clatter of tracks, then faded with the hot sooty belch of smokestack steam. It merged, at last, with the staticky whispers that had awoken him.

“Does he sleep?”

Edgar felt his muscles clench. He took pains to stay calm, to not move, to keep his breathing steady, measured.

It had been during the passage through the last tunnel, when the world had once again gone black, that he’d first become aware of their renewed presence. The demons. They had returned. Always they returned. To drag him from this world into the other.

A shudder ran through him. He let his eye slip shut.

“Watch him,” rasped another voice. “He will take the next train.”

Edgar’s hand on the armrest twitched. The sweat of his fever now became the cold sweat of fear, and it beaded on his broad brow until he felt a trickle slide down his temple.

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