A Chance Encounter

A Chance Encounter





‘Ticket please sir. Sir?’

The ticket master gave Terry a gentle tap on the shoulder. ‘Sir? I’d like to see your ticket please.’

Terry nodded grumpily. He hated being woken.

As he pulled his wallet from his back pocket, he couldn’t help but notice the smirk on the face of the old man opposite him. Terry scowled for a second, before returning his attention to his wallet, and the hunt for that ticket. His search was a success, and he triumphantly presented it, victorious against his foes. ‘Thank you Sir.’

The ticket master continued down the train.

Terry looked across the table again. The old man was still smirking. ‘And your problem is?’

Terry was not a laid back bloke. He treated every person with suspicion, and any act of unfriendliness, would be treated with hostility. Growing up in the rough suburbs of the city, he’d had a rough ride in life. Three years in prison hadn’t helped his cause, but recently he had turned his life around, with a good job at a garage, and even had a girlfriend, with whom the relationship was getting serious.

His anger management classes had helped him avoid many a conflict, but there was something about this old man that boiled his blood. Who did he think he was??? Who was he smirking at??? I’ll show the bastard!

Realising he was getting angry, he took a deep breath. This was silly. An old man, perhaps even senile, couldn’t, no, shouldn’t, make him so furious. Remembering his classes, he took two deep inhalations of oxygen, and closed his eyes, counting to ten. When he opened them, the man was gone.

Or so he thought. The old loony had moved seats, so instead of sitting opposite him, he was now sat next to him. His head turned to the side, he looked at Terry with a look of concern. Or perhaps pity. Or maybe both. Whatever it was, Terry didn’t like it.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he stared back at the man. He was old. Very old. He had no hair, none at all, and his head and face was as wrinkled as any Terry had ever seen. His eyes were grey, like a cloudy sky, but it was clear they contained a great knowledge of the world, and that they had seen much in their time. The man no longer wore a smile. His mouth was now still. His face serious.

‘Seriously mate. What do you want?’

The old man smiled again. ‘Nothing of note.’

Nothing of note? What kind of reply was that? ‘Then why are you staring at me?’ asked Terry, a detectable tone of irritation in his voice.

‘You’re interesting.’

Terry laughed. Not a hearty laugh. ‘Am I now? And why is that?’

The old man sighed and shook his head. ‘Tell me Terrance…’

‘Wha-what? How the fuck do you know my name?’

Terry had tensed up, like a cobra ready to strike. He didn’t plan on harming the old man. Not because of his moral boundaries, but because that would certainly mean another prison sentence. And considering the look on the face of the young women sitting on the other side of the aisle, there would be no helpful witnesses. She gave him a look as if he were mad.

‘You’re name is Terrence isn’t it?’

‘Now just hold a minute…’

With a raise of his hand, the old man silenced Terry. This came as a shock. No one had done that to him before apart from the screws when he was inside. That was only with the threat of the batten. Terry couldn’t understand why he had stopped speaking, but something had made him.

‘It doesn’t require an answer. Your name is Terrance. Terry for short. And you have come across me quite by chance Terrance. But you are in luck.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Me? I am no one. My purpose is unimportant to you.’

Although not being a simple plan, Terry was now confused, bewildered even, by this man who sat beside him. He spoke with an authority and wisdom of someone who knows all there is to know. An aura surrounded him which, although initially it didn’t, now commanded respect. Terry didn’t know why.

His heart raced. He could feel the throbbing of his pulse in his neck, so loud and powerful he was sure a miniature drum was being struck inside him. For the first time in years, he was scared. But he couldn’t for the life of him work out why.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘No. You don’t. But relax. Your fear is unprofitable. To both of us. I need you calm. You also need to be calm.’

‘For what?’

The old man grasped Terry’s hand, not nastily, but in a manner not unlike a caring father would grasp a grieving sons. Terry instantly relaxed. He felt a reassuring presence enter him at the touch of this man, and his heart beat began to slow instantly. He had no idea what was happening. But he began to believe that whatever it was would be monumental in his life.

‘Now, when I said my purpose was unimportant, I meant my overall purpose. When it comes to my plans with you, my purpose is very important.’

Terry nodded, pretending to understand. His deceit was silly though, as his face displayed his confusion perfectly.

The woman opposite. She continued to stare. Her look no longer concern. It was as if Terry and this man were not talking, but standing atop the table removing their clothes.

Terry chose it ignore her. More important things were at hand. ‘Terrance. Forget about the woman opposite. She is meaningless to us.’

‘I never…’

‘You don’t need to say anything Terrance. I know who you are. I know you. Who you are, what you are, I know you. You must listen to me.’

Terry did not want to believe what was being said to him. But he found he had no choice. He did believe. And he was now coming to the realization that this was no ordinary man.

‘What are you some sort of mind reader?’ asked Terry, no longer his usual aggressive self.

‘Mind reader? No, not quite. I am no one Terrance. I explained this to you.’

‘You must be somebody?’

‘Call me an entity. A spirit. Whatever your word for it is. As far as you’re concerned, I am no one.’

‘So you’re a ghost.’

‘Ghosts don’t exist Terrance, you know that.’

Although relaxed, almost soothed, by the presence of this old man, or spirit, or whatever he was, Terry couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by what he was hearing. Spirits? Entity’s? I am no one? None of it made sense. I know who you are. Who you are, what you are, I know you.

Terry realized his hand had now been released. He looked out of the window, as fields and trees and hills in the distance whizzed by. His mind was not quite sure of what it was processing.

‘I’m not going away Terrance.’

Terry turned round. ‘Stop calling me Terrance!’

The anger had returned. Terry was returning. Whatever had calmed him, maybe the touch of this, this spirit, had disappeared. He was not happy with the situation he found himself. Not at all.

‘Ok Terry. Is that better? Terry? I shall call you Terry. I am not your enemy. You may be calm.’

Terry lowered his voice to a hiss. ‘May be calm? Your telling me you’re a spirit, or whatever. You expect me to believe you.’

‘You do believe me.’

Terry blinked. Twice. ‘No I…’

‘Yes you do. There is no point in denying the truth. Part of my nature is to speak truth. It is as natural as the air in the world. My truth is pure, and cannot be denied.’

Left speechless again, Terry turned to the window once more. He could see the woman opposite in the reflection, still staring. She looked horrified. ‘What are you looking at missus?’ asked Terry, raising his voice to nearly shouting level.

She snapped her eyes away and faced her front. Her fingers drummed nervously on her lap.

‘She can’t see me Terrance. She thinks you’re talking to yourself. She can’t see or hear me. Only you can.’

More information Terry didn’t want to hear. ‘Great, so I’m talking to myself now.’

Laughter. ‘In her eyes, I guess you are. But you should feel privileged. She will never have the pleasure of contact with me. Or the honour.’

Terry was getting increasingly frustrated now. ‘The honour? Are you being serious? What fucking honour.’

‘There’s no need to swear.’

Terry let out a gasp of exasperation. ‘I thought you were going to tell me something.’

‘I am. I would have told you now but you keep asking questions.’

With a flare of his nostrils, Terry glared angrily at the man. Before he could resist, his hand had been grasped again, and any rage that was building inside him instantly subsided. Calm and tranquillity began to emerge. And it felt good.

‘Ok. I’m listening now.’

‘Good. I’m glad.’

Terry smiled. He hadn’t been this happy for years. But he knew he shouldn’t be happy. It couldn’t be helped. The touch of this man. The effect it had. It was like a drug.

‘Ok. Now Terry, I have played my game with you. My little this is who I am, I know you. It was fun. It always is. I try to do it differently every time.’

There was a distinct difference now to the tone in this voice. It was not soft, as before. It was cold, cruel. Still containing the knowledge of the world, it was however darker than dark. Terry felt fear once more, but it was deep inside him, buried beneath layers of happiness, which were forced upon him yet for some reason welcomed.

‘I am sorry this has happened Terry. You were not chosen for any real purpose. It is just a chance encounter. I resided on this train, and for me to continue my existence in this world, I must feed. It is the way of things unfortunately.’

‘I don’t understand.’

The grip on his hand was tight now, and certainly not of the strength you would expect from an old man.

‘I am like I said Terry. I am nothing. Yet I am something. I exist, because I exist. I feed off the impurities of humanity. You are a perfect example of this impurity.’

Beneath the happiness, the anger attempted to escape. But it was a futile effort. Terry now felt a sense of dread. I must feed. ‘I don’t understand what your talking about.’

He realised he wore a stupid grin on his face. The woman opposite had now disappeared. Perhaps to report him to somebody. It is an unnerving thing to see someone talking to themselves. Terry knew from his time inside.

‘Your soul is more impure than water from the sewers Terrance. I know what you’ve done in the past. I know you. People like you keep my continued existence possible. I am alive in so many ways because of the people in this world such as yourself.’

Terry still didn’t understand. But he realised he didn’t need to. The impurities talked about were completely true, and if this spirit, entity, whatever it was, had a plan for him, it was now obvious to Terry that it would get its way. Fucking old man.

‘I needed someone like you Terry. Your pitiful life, if life is what you want to call it, is over. You won’t be missed by many. In the big picture, you would be like removing a blade of grass from field.’

Terry couldn’t stop smiling. He did not want to. But his body and mind did not seem to be under his control any more. He felt tired. Drained. The grip on his hand got tighter.

His eyes began to feel heavy. The happiness attacked him, almost in waves, forced upon him, with a weight so heavy he collapsed underneath it. This unnatural force was irresistible. He began to understand.

The grip on his hand, tighter still, had created a connection between him and the old man. The spirit. He now understood. He knew what it was. He felt tired because he was ceasing to exist. Not just in mind and soul, but in body as well. And he could feel it.

The feeling was unexplainable. But he knew. Somehow he knew. Maybe it was because of this connection he now had with this mysterious entity, but he knew, he was being wiped from the world. This spirit, was taking him.

‘Not just taking you Terrance. You’re joining me. We will become as one. You could almost say I’m eating you.’

His eyes continued to tire. As he struggled against what felt like sleep, sleep that was so welcomed, yet so forced, he saw the old man for what he really was. Not wishing to look upon this monstrosity for any longer, he let darkness and sleep take him. Euphoria now engulfed him, and he suddenly felt free, as he descended into darkness. Emptiness. Yet freedom.



‘I don’t see him miss. He must have gone.’

The ticket master turned to the woman, who had been so frightened by this man she spoke of. ‘You checked his ticket remember. It was after that happened. He was talking to himself. Speaking such nonsense, but then it became…’

‘I know miss, you told me. He’s obviously left this carriage. I’ll have a look for him.’

‘He’s dangerous! Crazy!’

The ticket master laughed. ‘I’m sure he is miss, I’m sure he is.’

He walked away, smiling to himself. The man probably was crazy, but what was it to him. His mind wandered to warmer thoughts anyway.

The woman last night, tied up, the knife at her throat, the thrill of the moment. He did not worry of police. He didn’t worry of anything, he just wanted another night with that wondrous woman locked in his cupboard.

As he continued down the train, lost in his own thoughts, a presence stirred, unknown to those around it. It followed the man.

Its thoughts were simple. Hungry. Oh, so hungry.





By Callum Jones ©