The Man On The Tracks
The Man On The Tracks mystery stories
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koriday Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
This is a short ghost story that I wrote based on a real story in my towns history. There was a man who was robbed and his almsot dead body left on the tracks to soon be crushed by a passenger train, causing his death. The "man" in my story is suposed to be the ghost of Carl Stiedle, and the story takes place in my own back yard which sits right beside the tracks, just a short ways down from where the crime occured.

The Man On The Tracks

This occurence happened just roughly a week ago, my siblings and I were out in the yard, just minding our own business.

Amongst our conversation we started to hear what sounded like heavy footsteps on gravel.

We figured it was just our neighbor walking on the railroad tracks again like they do frequently, so we thought nothing of it.

We continued talking and tried to pass the time until Mom would eventually call us inside for dinner.

We heard a loud bang as the door to the house next to ours slammed shut and our neighbor, whom I've mentioned early in the story, steps out onto his porch holding his little white Westie.

He gently set the dog down on the lawn and it raced towards the fence closest to the train tracks as if he were going to attack whatever or whomever was there.

It started barking and the footsteps got louder, heavier too, the dog suddenly became quiet and its short tail tucked between its legs.

It whimpered back to its owner and didn't even look back in the direction of the rails.

We imagine something must have spooked it, so I walked over to the extra gate on our fense, that is supposed to be used as a fire escape but we just use it to go explore, and I don't see anyone,

or anything.

I turn around to walk back to my siblings and try to ignore the fact that the sound of footsteps is still there,

they sound like someone trying to run but it’s as if they’re stuck in one spot and the gravel is just being dug into by their feet.

I can hear the sound of a train’s whistle coming, “Amtrak!

” I shout to my siblings, it was a game we started when we first moved in to try and guess what kind of train was going to come by when we heard it’s horn.

We have lived here long enough for me to easily tell the difference. The train got closer and sure enough, I was right.

Although, something odd caught my attention, the footsteps in the gravel suddenly stopped and throughout the whole time the train rushed by,

the only other thing I could hear was the sound of a deep, raspy, scream of a man. As soon as the train had passed by I sprinted through the gate and onto the tracks.

Surely if this man was somehow still alive, he needed help.

When I got to the tracks I stopped suddenly as I noticed that there was no evidence, or any signs, that there was anyone down here at all.

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