First Trial

I stepped through the door and found myself aboard a dimly lit, antique train. The train was in motion, its rhythmic clatter echoing through the carriages.

Huh?

I looked around, confused by the unexpected change in the setting. I couldn't have been dazed for longer than a couple of seconds, but by the time I turned around, the entrance I passed through had closed and been replaced by a train door, leaving Hannes behind. Curious I tried to slide the door open again but the thing didn't budge.

I was alone.

I turned back around, taking a moment to gather myself before continuing forward. Two walls ran straight, creating a small hallway that obstructed my view.

I took a few slow steps forward, cautious of what might lay ahead. In front of me, there was a doorway opening in the middle of the wall that I assumed led to the hall of carriages. There was no such opening on the opposite wall, so that meant I was in the back of the train.

It didn't take long to reach the opening. Once I did, my thoughts were confirmed.

Ahead of me was the rearmost carriage of the train. The seats were filled with unmoving individuals, all deadly quiet and facing a specific direction. Somewhat apprehensive and unnerved by the sight, I began making my way through.

A red carpet with black lines in a neat pattern sprawled on the floor across the hall. Black cushioned seats faced each other like booths with tables in between. The walls were comprised of polished wooden tiles, and the ceiling was entirely painted black. Windows were placed right between every single booth, each with its own pull-down roller shade at the top.

What I found odd was that every window blind was open, revealing a distorted scenery that seemed warped and twisted, as if seen through a funhouse mirror. Trees, hills, and distant mountains bent and contorted unnaturally, their reflections rippling like water. The more I tried to make sense of the scene outside, the more my eyes began to ache.

Eventually, I tore my eyes away from the sight, closing my eyelids tightly to push away that subtle feeling of pain. When I opened them, my gaze settled on the faces of the many people aboard this train.

Just like Hannes, all these people seemed to lack a portion of what made them human. Their eyes were vacant, devoid of any emotion. Their faces were gaunt and hollow. They were all dead after all, or rather, a part of themselves was already dead. Only remnants of their consciousness remained.

If I didn't know better, I would have assumed them all to be corpses at first glance. My arrival was met with indifferent faces. None of them reacted to my presence. The only way I could tell they were not completely dead was their rhythmic breathing and occasional blinking. Every person here represented a failed challenger who was consumed by the trials.

I took a deep breath and began to walk down the narrow aisle between the rows of seats. The hollowed individuals continued to sit in their eerie stillness, their vacant eyes staring ahead. As I passed each one, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking through a gallery of lost souls.

I stopped in front of one of the hollowed, a woman with stringy hair and a pale face. Her eyes were glassy, reflecting the dim light in the carriage. I knelt down to her level, trying to see if there was any spark of life left within her.

"Hello?" I spoke softly, not really expecting an answer.

The woman's eyes did not shift or focus on me. She remained as still as a statue, her breath barely perceptible. I waved a hand in front of her face, but there was no reaction. It was as if she was trapped in some eternal, unchanging moment.

"Can you hear me?" I pressed on, a bit louder this time.

Still, there was no response. I straightened up, feeling a subtle hint of frustration. It was clear that these hollowed were beyond any normal communication. Whatever remnants of consciousness they had were not enough to interact with the world around them.

I continued down the aisle, pausing occasionally to try and engage with the other hollowed. Each attempt was met with the same eerie silence and unresponsiveness. It was unsettling to be surrounded by so many people and yet feel so completely alone.

As I moved through the carriages, I noticed that the scenery outside the windows remained the same distorted landscape. The warped and twisted images played tricks on my mind, making it difficult to concentrate.

Eventually, I reached a door at the end of the carriage. I hesitated for a moment before pushing it open and stepping into the next section of the train.

This carriage was different. It had the same red carpet and black cushioned seats, but there was an added element, a food bar was stationed along one side. The bar was made of dark, polished wood, with a row of stools in front of it. Behind the bar, shelves were lined with bottles and jars, their contents unclear in the dim light.

I approached the bar, my footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent carriage. As I got closer, I could see that the bar was attended by a hollowed figure, a tall man with a skeletal frame and sunken eyes. He stood behind the bar, his hands resting on each side of his frame, staring blankly ahead.

"Hey," I said, trying to get his attention. "Is this place… operational?"

The hollowed bartender did not respond. I leaned over the bar, trying to see if there was anything useful or edible. The bottles and jars were filled with strange, unidentifiable liquids and substances. Nothing looked particularly appetizing.

I grabbed one of the bottles and held it up to the light, trying to make out what was inside. The liquid looked foggy white within the clear glass. I uncorked the bottle with less effort than I'd thought it would take and sniffed cautiously. The smell was sharp and acrid, making my nose wrinkly.

I must be crazy if I ever decide to drink this.

I set the bottle back down and continued to look around the rest of the bar area. There were a few scattered plates and utensils, but nothing that seemed edible. The whole setup felt more for show than an actual functioning food bar.

Feeling a bit disheartened, I turned away from the bar and continued to explore the carriage. As I walked, I couldn't shake a sense of unease that had settled over me since I first boarded the train. The silence was overbearing, and the presence of the hollowed was a constant reminder of the consequence of failure.

As I moved further down the aisle, I began to hear faint whispers. At first, I thought it was just my imagination, a trick of the mind in the oppressive silence. But the whispers persisted, growing slightly louder with each step.

I paused, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. The whispers seemed to be coming from all around me, a faint murmur that filled the air. I turned in a slow circle, scanning the carriage for any sign of movement or life.

"Is… is someone there?" I called out, my voice filling the silence around me.

The whispers grew louder, but I still couldn't make out any specific words. It was as if the air itself was alive with the soft, hissing sounds. I took a step forward, then another, drawn by the eerie, almost hypnotic source of the whispers.

Without much thought, I snapped open the door to the next section of the train and moved through the carriage a step faster than before, the relentless whispers urging me forward.

They seemed to subside and flow, sometimes almost disappearing, only to come back stronger than before. My heart was pounding in my chest, a mix of fear and curiosity driving me onward.

As I reached the far end of the third carriage, I saw a door leading to the next section of the train. The whispers were loudest here, almost as if they were coming from the other side. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the door handle.

With a deep breath, I grasped the handle and pulled the door open. The whispers seemed to rush past me, filling the space with an almost tangible presence. I stopped for a moment, the scene before me similar to the previous carriages, red carpet, black seats, and hollowed people.

The whispers had stopped completely. I looked around and swallowed a gulp, feeling sweat beginning to form on my forehead. Cautiously, I stepped through the doorway and into the next carriage.

I didn't rush to the end of the hall this time. I took my time, moving slowly forward in response to my paranoia. Now that all the whispers had shut off completely, the silence returned more deafening than ever.

I couldn't even concentrate on what was around me. All my focus settled on the door at the end of the hallway as if the door itself demanded my attention. Each step I took seemed to resonate loudly against my ears, muting the background clattering of the moving train.

Before I knew it I reached the end and stopped before the door. Something about it seemed off. The more I stared at it, the more the world around me drowned in silence and once again faint, inaudible whispers echoed in my mind.

My heart began racing, and a cold sweat trickled down the side of my face. An eerie sense of foreboding settled over me. Something told me that I was not supposed to go through that door. Yet at the same time, I knew I had to cross it to pass whatever this trial entailed.

I turned around and left behind this area of the train. I headed back to the first carriage, to the spot I started in since that was the only part of this long vehicle where I could be by myself. Even though there were individuals filling every seat on this train, I still didn't wish to be in their presence.

Once I reached the spot, I lowered myself down against the back wall and decided to rest. It had been a long day.

I woke up early in the morning and attended school, the last day of school, in fact, before summer vacation began. Not many students show up when school is ending but I did since I didn't want to be at home, my father would have sent me on endless errands, knowing full well the physical state of my condition.

I had to put up with a boring, lonesome day of doing nothing, just sitting around in a classroom. If that wasn't bad enough, by the time school ended, I had missed the bus, my only ride home.

Reluctantly, I began to walk home. My pace was irritatingly slow, the day was quickly coming to an end and, to make it worse, the sky became cloudy it was about to rain.

But possibly the worst part about this day was that, halfway through, I was spotted by a few unwanted individuals when making my way past a park.

Near that park was a small cliff of survivable height. Those idiots thought it would be a funny idea to show me the dangers of straying too far.

One thing led to another, and I ended up being pushed around until I fell down that cliff. I don't think it was their intention to make me fall but I was already tired from walking that my legs gave out. The last thing I remember is falling head-first, straight onto a protruding rock.

Then, I was dead.

Currently, it was not about me being physically tired but rather the mental strain. All of it from the start to now seemed to finally catch up. My breath grew slower and my eyes began to droop. In the end, I couldn't fight against the urge to lie down and rest.