The mist poured lazily into the Valley of Dreams but it was not the one that had brought the passengers to the valley. And the valley changed like a fading in and out of the silver screen. Seven passengers stood upon a station platform, ornate, beautiful, old, yet new, over shadowed by rolling gray skies. And now the Conductor, though unchanged in the face wore the uniform of the Orient Express.
He looked at the seven passengers, crowded together at the entrance to the Calais Coach. When the mist faded they could read the station name, Istanbul. “All aboard for Budapest. All aboard for Budapest.” Cried the conductor.
Standing next to him was the hotel manager. “My, they really are anxious to get this business under foot.” He uttered.
“Quiet you fool.” The conductor ordered then, “All Aboard for Budapest and Bran.”
Anna Morris yelped, “Budapest. How did we get here and when is here. It looks like something straight out of an Agatha Christie book.”
“Quiet woman. It is exactly the way it should be in this mad expanse of alter-realities. Haven’t you figured it out yet. This has all being written into our lives because we have stumbled into a madness and have been drafted into some horrifying scenario. Can you not feel the Itch in Your mind.” Trevor Morris countered.
Anna shot back. “Don’t you quiet me. This all your fault and sure, I feel the itch. Its horrible and it is invasive. It has kidnapped me, not drafted. But my real question is, how the hell did we get from the Valley of Dreams to Istanbul, standing on a platform in 1934?”
Inspector Sam Wakes looked around, his mind trained to expect the unexpected taxed to the limit of its training. He stared accusingly at the Conductor and said, “When, or, if we ever get back to reality I am arresting everyone involved in this fiasco, especially you, the hotel manager and…”
The Conductor cut him off. “Did you not consider that your other life was the illusion and this is the true reality. Our destination is not a place exactly. It is an occasion. You will be required to conduct an investigation of the most dire importance, a man hunt for we must find a thief named Gerald Muldock.”
“If this is about some book we already have the thief. He has the book on him now. Why not just wrap it all up and be done with it so I can go home.”
“All aboard the Orient Express. Next stop Budapest.”
A Whistle blew. Lightening flashed and the wheels screech on the track as the engine roared into life.
Somewhere in the expanse of the Transylvanian Mountains the Train of madness grinds to a halt amidst the raging of a winter’s storm and out of the darkness of night, sleepers are awaked by a blood curdling scream and open their sleepy eyes into the depths of chaos and murder.
Be sure to continue your adventure journey aboard the Train Of Madness departing Istanbul at midnight September 21st and plunge full steam into the darkness of insanity and murder.
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