Spoilers: None

Warnings: None

A/N: Stories that are based around London's most haunted; our own London Underground Tube. I started this August 2014, I finished it Xmas eve and now only came back to check spelling mistakes. Gently, does it, I'm a little dyslexic. And I don't have a Beta, don't want one.

Enjoy?

Don't get Ingo wrong, he loved his job as one of Nimbasa Cities Subway Boss. But there were some things in the job where he wish he did just get up and walk out, never to return again. But he couldn't, it came with the job. When he got the position of one of the two subway bosses, it meant being the boss of the whole of the underground system. Which meant looking out for the lower staff members, checking on maintenance, book work and filed reports, trying to keep the trains working smoothly, help through rush hours during mornings, nights and the for the last train of the night, and finally, looking out for the other subway boss, younger brother Emmet.

Ingo was a man who loved his job, working all hours of the day, from the first train of the morning at 4am to the last one half 12am. Working helped him from getting distracted from doing silly things that would normally involve Emmet. Or, if he was just sitting at his desk in Gear Station doing nothing, he'd go off in a daydream, head tilting to a side, looking up, slight smile twitching on his face as he went off into his own world.

As much as Ingo loved being the boss of the underground clad in a black, he also loved coming home to his and Emmets flat in Anvile Town. The first thing he'd do when he'd get into the warm and cozy 2 bedroom flat was take his coat, hat and tie of and throw them on the sofa he'd then go rummaging through the fridge to eat. He'd take that to his room and some how, through his tired state, Ingo would manage to get into his sleeping t-shirt and shorts, go into the bathroom to tend to his pressing needs and brush his teeth before going to bed for the night.

Emmet would wake up at 3 in the morning to get ready for the first train at 4 in the morning that would take him into Gear station. Emmet went in early because he left work early at 6 in the evening. Which meant that the next day he'd being going home late, catching the last train at half 12 in the morning. Because Ingo went to bed late, he got up for work later, giving himself some time for much needed sleep. He'd get up at 9 in the morning and go to work. He'd leave at 6 in the afternoon so he'd go to bed at 9 for 6 hours before getting up at 3 in the morning to get the first train of the morning into town. While that same day, Emmet would wake up late and go home early and then would wake up the next morning early.

That was their ritual every day, they followed that pattern and for the brothers, it some how worked.

Right now, Ingo wished he was the one who went home early, complaining of a sore throat, temperature, stuffy nose and dizzy spells. No. That was Emmet coming up at 6 in the evening, 14 minutes before Ingo got of his shift. Poor Emmet hadn't felt well since 9 in the morning when he was getting ready for work and had gradually gotten worse through the day but had refused to go home because he claimed it wasn't fair on Ingo. Emmet was going to work a late shift, a very late shift. An all nighter actually. He was going to act as a station master for Yeoman Green Station because the station master there had fallen ill the previous night from the the same cold Emmet was suffering from now. Emmet was doing this all nighter from the goodness of his big, ol' red squishy heart.

That all nighter, on Ingo's watch, was NOT going to happen.

In the end, Ingo sent Emmet home after he also most had a fainting spell in front of his brother and two other station staff. After having a 5 minute sit down and a bottle of water, Ingo took no excuses from Emmet and sent him home with a member of staff who was also going home and also happened to live in Anvile Town.

Ingo, instead of finding another staff member to take over Emmets shift, decided to do the all nighter himself. The staff at Gear station could handle the last train without him tonight, he trusted them.

At 12:13 am, he got the train from Gear Station and headed towards Yeoman Green Station. He had phoned ahead to the platform staff at the station and told them he was coming over to take over Emmets night shift. Getting off the train, Ingo wasn't surprised when some people were running towards him and brushing past him to get the last train to Drawbridge station. They got on just in time and off the train went into the dark tunnel.

This station was now officially closed for the night until it's first train the morning.

"The last train's gone!" Ingo had called out up the escalators to the people who were about to go down them. He heard them whisper 'shit' and 'oh bollocks' to each other. "Please find alternate means of transport via the buses and taxis. If help is needed, I am happy to assist in any means possible."

He got to the top of the escalator and the group of friends went over to him to try and ask how they could get home. They looked liked they had come out of a club, smelling of booze, perfume, aftershave, cigarettes and little bit of pot. But, to Ingo's relief, they weren't pissed. He hated dealing with high and drunk people

"Take the N76 towards Parktide road and then….".

This was what Ingo enjoyed, helping people if they needed it. To know they could come to him for help and he can help them was rewarding to him. He was a good natured man like that, he was raised to be like that.

The gang waved him thanks and walked towards the stairs that leads out to the exit and entrance of the station.

The station was deserted now. He would have said quite but the grind of the escalators working was hard to ignore. And the click and clack of his shoes hitting the tiled floor was loud in the slight silence of the empty ticket hall.

The sound of a door caught his attention. Ingo turned to his left to see 3 station staff, one woman and two blokes, come out of the stations main staff room. Each were holding their backs packs over their shoulders, their hats no where in sight so Ingo had to guess they were in their bags. Other then the hats, they wore full uniform, no jackets held in a crock of their elbow or tied at their waist. Gloves pure white, emerald green jackets, trousers and the skirt for the girl crease free even though they had been moving around a lot all day. Their white shirts stood out from the green like a sore thumb, pristine and still as white as the day their brought them from the store.

The girl was handing out a carton of cigarettes to her two colleagues before she looked up and jumped in shock a little at the boss. Her colleagues looked up at her shock, fags dangling from their mouths, and jumped also when seeing their boss. One of the men nearly swallowed his cigarette from the fright.

"Jesus Christ," hissed the woman worker, her hand grabbing at her heart through her green jacket. "Give me a heart attack will ya?!"

"Well that cigarette you got between your fingers won't help you there either, now will it?" Ingo walked towards the 3 workers. "Sorry, I have that effect on people."

"Silent but deadly, I'd say," one of the men mumbled, while he rummaged around his jacket pocket for Ingo would guess is his lighter.

The four subway workers walked towards the stairs and up them, getting a punch to the face of fresh air when they got closer to the top of the stairs. They stopped and looked out towards the usually busy street that now nearly empty except for the group of party goers and occasional person letting their pokemon out of the pokeballs for a roam.

One member of a group screamed at the 3 station staff and their higher ranking boss, high as kite.

"Party all day! Party all night! WHooooooooooooooo!"

"Go home!" shouted the female work, after she lit up her cigarette letting a stream of smoke filter through her teeth that would probably turn yellow in some years if she kept up this disgusting habit.

"Fuck you!"

The group of party doers laughed at their friend and jeered and pointed at the 4 workers of the subway before walking off down the road, to get run over bus or some truck. It was horrible of Ingo to think of this, but some people just really need to be hit by a moving truck to get some common sense and some manners knocked into theirs skulls.

"Tossers," the female worker sighed. "I do hate the living sometimes."

"And still you got a job that requires helping the living and to move them around this city," Ingo pointed out, while he pulled out his own cigarette with his teeth from his own carton of fags. The packet went back into his left jacket pocket and out came the lighter, burning the tip, making the smoke, already poisoning lungs.

"I said sometimes, not always."

The 3 men chuckled, and there a was a comforting silence between the workers as they all smoked their cigarettes. There was just something, Ingo thought, about having a cigarette after a stressful, paperwork filed day. It seemed all the stress slipped out of your body along with the smoke that slipped through lips. But Ingo's working day wasn't over until 4 in the morning, in another 3 hours and 30 minutes.

"Can I have the station keys please?" he asked one of the male workers. Ingo may be the boss of all the subway network, but even he didn't have every key to every station in this huge city.

"Yeah, of course," the worker replied. He placed the fag between clenched teeth while he searched both pockets for the keys to the stations gates, the keys to the staff room, keys to turn the escalators off and keys of other stuff. He produced from his left jacket pocket a ring off keys with a Pokeball key ring on it that had a little bell in it, so it jingled when passed over to Ingo's waiting hand.

"Cheers," Ingo pocketed the keys in his right jacket pocket.

"You're welcome. Dont lose those, they're my only set."

"Right," declared the female worker. "I dont know about you lot, but I'm heading home. I've got a carton of leftover meatballs in my fridge with my name on them and bed waiting for my return. I'm heading for home."

"Nope, I'm coming with," said one of her male colleagues, throwing his nearly burnt out cigarette to the ground stomping it out. Ingo did the same with his cigarette and kicked it to a side while the other co-worked got another fag out and used the old one to light the new one. The old one got the same treatment as Ingo's and his co-workers cigarettes got.

"Same. My Mrs is waiting up for me."

The chain smoker told his co-workers to walk on and he'd catch up in a minute, he just had something to say to Ingo quickly. His colleagues walked off and he turned to his boss.

"Cody said he'd try and get in for 4am on the dot for the first train if he is feeling any better," the worker told his boss. Cody was obviously their sick station master that Emmet was to take over for tonight but instead Ingo was doing the dirty job tonight. "He's got his own keys so he'll get in on his own. If he doesn't turn up, just start opening up the station anyway."

"I get the picture," Ingo told the worker. It wasn't like he hadn't gone through all this before. Before applying for the job of one of the subway bosses, Ingo was a station master for one of the sub-surface stations. Back then, he'd been so used to supervising a station all alone at night till 4 in the morning, waiting for his first co-worker to come into work so he could go to bed and sleep through lunch, dinner and continue to sleep till he had to wake up again at in the morning, the next day.

Doing this one off job tonight was reminding why Ingo hated doing all nighter when he was a common subway worker. The night shift was just so boring and the more bored you became, the tireder you got. Ingo had actually fell asleep one time and was awoken by the thunderous sound of the old subway boss clad in black he now wore. For that stunt, he got suspended till further notice. Ingo didn't understand why he got punished, it wasn't like anyone was going to get in and rob, what, a security locked ticket dispenser?

Yeah, Ingo was not looking forward to tonight's long hours of boredom. Yes, he brought some paper work to do, but that wasn't going to be enough for tonight's waste of time.

"Okay. See you later, sir."

Ingo nodded a see ya and waved of his worker down the road as he caught up with his co-workers. When Ingo was sure he saw the man catch up with his 'friends' he turned on himself and walked into the station and turned around again to face the night air. To the right, he pulled out the metal diamond shaped door guard that fanned out as it was pulled across the entrance and put into a lock, were Ingo got out the keys and locked the guard in place. He shook the guard, to make sure it was in place. It jiggled but it didn't come away from the lock. Good.

Down he went into the ticket hall, the very cold ticket hall now that he noticed. Or it could be because he stood outside in the air for a while and that's why he now felt a chill.

Ingo walked over to the staff room, with his heels going click and clack against the tiles, loud in the nearly silent ticket room. The escalators were still in a grinding motion, going up and down. It sent a chill down Ingo's spine.

He walked into the room. It was nice and warm, with the lights still on, radiator on and so was the radio the staff of this station had obviously left on for his arrival. The 2 cctv telly's were still on, showing black, grey and white pictures of the whole of the ticket hall from a corner and the front of the stations closed exit and entrance. There were no telly's for the cameras looking down the two train platforms. Those cameras looking down the north and south of each platform were used by the line controller, who is based for this particular line that ran through the station is in a room in Gear station, sharing a night with the other line controllers of different lines.

Right, thought Ingo, better make my rounds.

It was necessary, even though they had cameras in the staff room and also in the main control room at gear station, all station masters on the night shift must make a search of the station in case someone was still on the platform or in the tunnel. There are some things cameras can't see. Ingo also had to turn off the escalators and give the all clear to having the current to all electric rails shut down for the night. Nothing gets turned off unless the subway boss gives the word.

Ingo went to the small fridge in the corner and got a bottle of water and poured it into the kettle connected to the wall plug. The switch went on and began a small boil while Ingo searched for a clean mug from the cupboard above the fridge and also brought down the jar of decaffeinated coffee instant granules. It had to be decafe, he may be burning the midnight oil tonight but he didn't want to be wake when he he gets home in 3 hours and 15 minutes time. He had plans to sleep till the next day, like a Cubchoo in a mini hibernation. 2 level teaspoons of the granules will do for now. In they go.

The milk and sugar could wait for now. And while that kettle was slowly boiling, Ingo could go and do his thing. The kettle will be ready by the time he'd get back.

Out Ingo went with the keys to the station in his left pocket, jingling and jangling as he walked towards the grinding escalators. He walked down them, having no intentions to wait on the right hand side like one does during the day were commuters are in a great rush. He got to the bottom and turned to the escalator's door plating and opened it, using the key to turn off the stairs that go down but not the stairs that were still going up. He was too tired to trudge up so many steps without moaning and groaning. Ingo closed the control door and went on his way to platform 1 to check for anything looking suspicious.

His click and clack of his heels echoed the lonely platform as he walked down a small set of stairs from the north side of the platform. He looked down the platform, observing. The lights in the ceiling get dimmer when closing time comes up, its a way of saving power. Ingo turned the corner and looked into the dimly lit up tunnel that was the entrance for the train to come through. He looked hard, looking at everything, even though there was nothing much to see. The tunnel seemed to be clear. Off he went to the other end of the platform to have a look into the south side tunnel for anyone or anything intruding onto the tracks that still had a live current of 200,000 volts running through solid steel, a magnificent conductor for death.

He looked in…. Nope, nothing in there. Platform 1 was clear for the night. On to platform 2 which was just next door to platform 1 through the means of a large square walk through in the middle of the platforms.

Platform 2 smelt strongly of piss when he walked through. Ingo instantly looked to the ground and looked for what was causing the stink, which he knew was that a commuter being a dirty bastard couldn't hold it in and decided to talk a leak up against the wall. While doing so, he walked towards the south end of the platform. He looked into the tunnel and after fruitless search, saw nothing and walked towards the north side of the platform, still searching for the puddle of urine on the floor. Another fruitless search by the time he ended at the other side of the platform. Obviously, it had been cleared up but the smell still lingered. Ingo looked into the tunnel and, again, found nothing in there. Thus, concluded his search. Now all had to do was contact control and have them turn off the power on the whole network.

Ingo walked up to the phone box that contained a red phone that only had one contact in its memory; control centre. His gloved right hand picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear. It rang, and rang and rang and r-

"Sir," came a voice over the phone, a female voice, clear and crisp. This stations line controller. In the background, Ingo could hear the sounds of machines running, bustle of work and people talking. Oh, how he'd wished to be there instead of here if he couldn't get home at this time.

"Yeaoman Green's platforms and tunnels clear," Ingo spoke down the phone to the operator on the other line. "Shut down track current."

"Yes, Sir."

Ingo heard the woman give out the order from her boss to shut down the lines track currents on the subway. The subway was now dead for now. Steel tracks that carry up to 200, 000 volts through your body if you even pressed a fingertip to the the metal was now a complete dead weight, useless metal.

"Anything else, Sir?" came the woman's voice over the phone.

"No, thats all tonight. Thank you."

"Goodnight, Sir."

"I'll try," Ingo let a flicker of a smile grace his face, listening to the woman chuckle before she hung up on him.

Ingo placed the phone back on its hook and closed the box. Off he went back towards the stairs leading up to the main escalators that was going up. Up he went on the wobbly, grinding old moving stairs. They haven't had maintenance check in ages. Ingo knew this because none of the staff had reported in for some engineers to have a service on the escalators in over 7 months. He may have to have a word with one this station's staff. Seriously, how could they let this get so bad?

Ingo finally made it to the top. Now that he had been moving about, the ticket hall didn't seemed to be as cold as when he re-entered after his fag break with the staff at this station.

He turned to the working escalators and like he did with the stairs going down, turned them off with the key. They came to a grinding halt with a creek, the creek echoed in the NOW silent ticket hall. The silence was now golden; Ingo loved it.

The subway boss made a search around the ticket hall, searching for lost items some people many have dropped such as wallet, purses, phone, pokeballs, pokedexs. Pokeballs were the most common dropped items, the second was travels cards and thirdly was mobiles. If there was a mobile found, the staff would normally called the name that was a house phone number and if the owner of the missing phone answered, they'd tell them which station is holding their phone, no need to worry sir or madame, come by in the morning to retrieve it.

There were some nasties that could be found. An actual wild pokemon hiding in fear but then would attack violently when discovered. That one had happened to Emmet once, during a busy day, he wasn't risking a pokemon battle in a busy station and in the end ended up in A&E for deep bites and being poisoned.

The worst possible scenario would be a bomb scare. Both brothers had experienced that 2 years ago. It was something they never really discussed again after the scare of the station, in the trains and at control at Gear Station. It frightened them to death. Their so called bomb turned out to be lost bag filled with electrical equipment. Even so, all lost or forgotten bags on trains, platforms and hidden in ticket halls were taken so seriously it's not even funny.

Ingo poked his head through the door of the assistance and ticket officer that the staff use to hand out information to travelers and tickets to people who would rather get tickets of a human than trust a machine to do it. Yep, the room was clear.

Locking the door after him, Ingo finally walked back into the staff room, where the kettle had finished boiling a minute ago, steamed water rising up through the spout and towards the ceiling. The radio was now playing what seemed to be a love song coming to an end as the radio presenter started to talk over the song, saying that up next an hour hour of 80's classic tunes before 2 whole hours of nothing but love songs until the early breakfast show that will start at 4 in the morning.

Ingo, while pouring the water into the mug and now reaching for a spoon to stir the dirty coffee water, thought that maybe he should change the radio over to something else or keep it on until the love hours come on at 2am. He poured some milk into his coffee and opened a scatchet of sweetener to pour into the mug too. A final stir and poof, it was done, one more chore done. Ingo threw the scatchet in the bin, wiped the sweetener that missed his mug some how, onto the floor and popped the milk back into the fridge. Done, the deed was now over.

Holding his mug, Ingo walked over to the desk that had the 2 cctv cameras and in front of those, the paperwork he had sent over before hand via the use of a colleague who was heading in that direction when he was going home. He didn't have much paper work left to do. He was a bit behind during the day on looking at proposals, complaints, general paperwork. He spent the whole of his shift after lunch trying to catch up on the work. This night shift will be a good time to finish the papers. He only had a small pile left and Ingo felt pretty confident that he will get these done before the love songs start in an hour. And he had noticed a small book shelf half full with books. One was a book on medical use and how to treat a patient. Good, Ingo was glad to see that there incase something does happen and the paramedics aren't there on time to treat the ill. The other 2 were on engineering, one was on personal defence, just in case a member of staff got threatened. The green bounded book was an at hands at all times book and every station must have one in the staff office. It was a old school rule book, a must and mustn't book. It wasn't a thick book, about the the thickness of a thumb and was a suitable size to fit in a pocket.

The other 3 books were normal reading books; a horror novel and two fantasy book. Obviously light reading material for who ever has a night shift or a lunch break. Reading was a no no during work hours.

They will do for when Ingo finished his paperwork and has a few more hours to kill before the night shift was over and the first worker of this station had opened up shop again for commuters rushing to work. It was alway the business men and women who were first in on the first train of the early morning.

Ingo plopped himself down at the table in a rather comfy chair and took a tentative sip of hot coffee. Perfect, he set that down and looked at his paperwork and sighed.

Well then, Ingo thought glumly, picking out a black biro pen from a tin the staff use to store writing materials in. Welcome to the night shift.

Off he went, filling out and signing the paperwork he was determined to finish of within the hour. The radio softly played its hour of 80's classics and its club classics also. It was no distraction. That much. Ingo did find himself lightly mumberling tunes to some songs he knew while doing the paperwork, bobbing his head a little with the bet. Every 5 minutes he took a sip of his slowly cooling coffee and would look for a good 10 seconds at the 2 cctv tellys. After that, it was back to the black and white pages of paper work.

25 minutes into the deed, that thick black coat came of and was hung up at the hat stand near the back of the room. His hat was off too and placed on one of the stands hook. The gloves came off too and was stuffed in one of the pockets and tie was pulled lose to open the top button, revealing a creamy, pale neck. The long shirt sleeve buttons were popped and the sleeves were rolled up above elbows, finally letting his forearms breath.

35 minutes in, the once slicked back hair he always wore under his hat was now flopped over his forehead, kind of over his eyes because of the constant running his hair at one point in frustration because the pen he used finally caved and ran dry. The other reason was because he had an itch and needed to scratch it.

43 minutes and finally, every bit of sodding paperwork was done and he had 17 minutes to spare before the 2 hours of love songs came on. Ingo popped the replacement for his other pen in the tin and leaned back to stretch, which caused something to crack a little as his raised his arms, interlocked his fingers and felt a satisfaction feeling as the tenseness in his muscles melt away.

Ingo downed the last of his cool coffee and got up out of the seat and walked over to the kettle to put it back on again for another well deserved cuppa. While it boiled, Ingo put the paperwork back in a plastic folder it originally came in but was hiding underneath the done pile. He put that to a side and then sat back down, getting out his mobile to see if he had received anything while working. He had it on silent so it would distract him while working. There was a text from Emmet that came through about 1 in the morning, wishing him a good night and a good luck at the all nighter with a mild promise that he'd probably be coming in later on if he felt up to it. At the end was a smiley face and a couple of x's. With love, from Emmet xx.

Ingo smiled and texted back quickly, knowing that probably he'd won't get a reply till 8 in the morning, with a thanks for your good luck and goodnight to you too. So tired. Get well soon. Love you too, Ingo xx

He sent that just a sec before the kettle went off. The phone went back in his coat pocket and his cup was filling with coffee. The mug was set on the table once again that had the 2 cctv cameras set up. Ingo walked to the bookshelf and pulled out one of the fantasy books. He read the back. Something about a princess with a heavy secret. It will do for now. Just 2 more hours and 10 minutes left before he was free. He noted the book already had a bookmark in it; an old day travel card, bright green for an adult traveling. Must be a book one of the staff' that is currently reading, better be careful not to lose their place in the book. He started from the beginning, propping his feet up on the table, minding not to knock over his coffee.

2 in the morning went by, with the now 2 hours of love songs playing to it late night listeners. Ingo did the same thing he did when doing the paperwork and started to murmur the lyrics to the songs that weren't 'so bad while he got into the book. Again, every 10 minutes he looked up and looked at the 2 telly's that played live cctv footage entrance to the station and ticket hall. Nothing suspicious turned up on all cameras so Ingo straightened up, got his mug of coffee for a sip. He set it back down and took up his previous position in the chair and carried on with his awfully cheesy and quite charming book that he was already 34 pages into.

If he kept this up and continued to be glued to this book, while listening to those radio love songs and have occasional sips of his beverage, he could be home in no ti-

Ring Ring!

Ingo jumped, nearly knocking over his half full mug of cooling coffee, and clenched his hand to his chest, over his heart and breathed in shakily.

Ring Ring!

Ingo looked at the cctv telly's and then over to the phone that on the wall that was connected to only one contact; the control room in Gear Station.

"Jesus Christ," he cursed, as he put down his legs and his feet touched the ground while so he grabbed some scrap paper from the side and marked his place in the book and then got up, setting the book aside.

Ring Ring!

He walked over to the phone and picked it up while leaning on the wall. He tried not to yawn while he talked to the line controller down the phone.

"Morning," he said dryly down the phone to the female line controller he spoke to an hour and 16 minutes ago.

"Morning, sir," came the line controllers crisp and clear and not so much tired voice. "How's the night shift going so far?"

"Well, I've managed to finish all my paperwork, ready for documenting tomorrow."

"Really? Well, what you going to do for next hour and 45 minutes?"

"I've been reading one of the staffs novels to take my mind of the next hour and 45 minutes. Its doing the trick so far. Got a cup of coffee too and the radio's on also."

"I see." There was a quick pause from the line controller and before she could get anything in, Ingo beat her to it. Just from the quick silence, he knew something was up.

"What's wrong?" Ingo asked, mildly awake now.

"I've come across something on the north side of platform 1 of the station you're at, Sir," the woman answered his question.

Ingo stood up straight now, taking in the information his line controller was telling him at the moment. Something was happening at the north side of platform 1? What the hell?

"What is it?"

"Standing there, near the edge of the platform, as clear as day, is a man."

….Huh? Ingo moved the phone to the other ear and turned to look through the window that showed the escalators going down deeper into the ground, towards the platforms. Platforms of which apparently had a man standing at like he is waiting for the train. Seriously, what the?

"I'm sorry, but what?" Ingo kind of harshly spoke down into the phone.

"A man in a pair of white paper overalls is standing near the edge of the north side of platform 1, Sir." The line controller paused for a few seconds. "He's just standing there, still, like he's waiting for a train."

"Are you sure it's not a maintenance worker on a night shift?"

"I've thought about that, Sir, and I have gone through the maintenance router on the computer spreadsheet."

Ingo chewed on his bottom lip, "Check again."

The sound of light and fast tapping over the phone was the sound of the controler looking once more through the spreadsheet. Murmured voices of 'what the?' and 'who's that?' come over the phone also.

The controller was back on the line. "I've done a triple check, Sir," the controller confirmed to her boss on the other line. "There isn't any planned engineering work scheduled for Yeoman's Green station till next week."

"Is it a Fluffer* then?"

"Nothing has been scheduled for a station deep clean either, Sir. The only person supposed to be in the station is the station master for a night job. You, sir."

Ingo ran his finger through his hair and thought hard. How was this possible? He had checked the entrance to all four tunnels, south and north and had found nothing down them. If something was down them, the light in the tunnels were powerful enough to light up anyone in the dark to see who the trespassing sod was. There was no one there! How was this likely?!

There's only one thing to it.

Ingo let out a tired sigh slash huff over the phone. "Okay," he calmly said to the line controller. "I'll go an have a look, okay?"

"Thank you, Sir. North end, platform 1. You can't miss him."

"I'll call back with with findings, Okay? Alright, bye."

Ingo put the phone back onto its hook. He walked over to his jacket and shrugged it on, not caring for the hat at the moment, or the gloves or the loose tie around his neck. he checked his pockets for the keys to the station, just to be sure they were still there, before he walked out into the cold ticket hall at coming up for half 2 in the morning, leaving the warmth of the staff room and its music on the warm wind to go down retrieve this git who Ingo still had no idea on how he got in with all the station having been shut a good hour and half ago.

He walked down the long flight of stairs that are the non moving escalators, gripping onto the rubber encased railings so he wouldn't fall down while he made his way down quickly so he could get this problem over and done with. He turned to the left and down the tunnel towards platform 1 after walking down the stairs. He was not looking forward to walking back up those stairs.

Ingo walked out onto the south side of platform 1 and stopped to have a look down the platform. This station had its platforms built rather oddly. Platform 2 was built straight so you could walked down the platform without going around a curve in the wall. Platform 1, for some odd reason was built with a curve. The wall on the other side of the platform jutted out and form a curve around it so when you looked down the platform towards whatever side, you couldn't see the other tunnel entrance, just the bit that was before the tunnel entrance. The curve made the own platform curve. When the train came in, it stopped in the station in the shape of the curve, which made some of carriages have huge gaps between the platforms and the train doors, making it either hard or impossible to get on the train for the elderly and people with buggies. Because of this, Yeoman's Green station was not everyone's favourite station to use.

Because of the curse, Ingo couldn't see the end of the north side platform, so he couldn't tell if someone was at the end of the platform.

Ingo turned to his left and had a look into the tunnel that had trains come in to the station like an entrance. He walked through the gate that was only to be used by the platform staff and was to keep commuters from going onto the track. He walked down the little ramp and was onto the track, in front of the entrance tunnel. He went in, letting the tunnels dimmed lights lead the way. It was hard to see, but it was enough for anyone to see if there were anybody down there, hiding among the shadows and between pillars. He walked in until he reached to where the lights went completely of in the tunnel and where there was no pillars to hide behind and doors to open to get into staff passages.

Ingo looked around, seeing nothing and hearing the silence. Nobody was in this tunnel that was for sure, and he was pretty confident no one was further into the tunnel unless they had a torch with them. It was just completely pitch black down there.

He turned and made his way back towards the light up station platform. Ingo walked up the little ramp, past the safety gate and walked down the curving platform towards the north side exit. His heels clicked on the floor, making a echo around the room.

Click click click click.

Ingo made it to the other side of the platform and stopped at the gate leading to the ramp and into the tunnel. He turned his head around and quickly had a one last glance down the end of the platform. No was there waiting for a train. He was sure of this.

He went through the gate and down the ramp and into the tunnel with the high lights lighting the way into the dark. And then he stopped and looked hard. It was eerily quiet, an odd gust of wind smacked Ingo in the face, blowing his hair out of his eyes. It wasn't a cool blow but a warm gust with the nasty smell of metal, oil and fast food. It made Ingo ill.

No signs of life were to be seen from beyond the tunnel or the staff doors on the side of the tunnel. Ingo was satisfied by this. Seriously, a man waiting on the platform at the northbound end platform, what is wrong with that line controller? Was she that bored to make the story up? Or was she drunk?

Ingo walked back onto the platform and walked towards the box that contained the platform phone that links to the control room in Gear Station and to tonights line controller to give her what he had found. Which was fuck all.

Ingo phoned in and waited.

Ring ring. Ring -

"Sir."

"I have checked both ends of the platform. I have looked in the tunnel and walked into them and I have found no signs of anyone being on the platform or in the tunnels or any other place in the station."

There was no response from the controller on the other line but the light murmur from other staff members in the background. Ingo continued.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he said down the phone, voice stern and accusing. "What are you playing at up there, I swear to god."

"Sir, I swear on my life," the line controller tried to say calmly, but her voice was shaky. Why? "Im not bullshitting you. There is a man on the north side platform on platform 1."

Ingo sighed heavily, running a hand over his tired, grease built-up face, yawning as he did. This was ridiculous, seriously.

"There is no one here," Ingo growled down the phone, getting fed up now.

"But he is!" The controller had finally snapped at that declaration. Ingo jumped a little at that. "He's there on my camera right now, still waiting. Sir, you stood right next to him when you got to the end of the platform and turned to look back. How could you not fucking see him?!"

Right, now, that got going Ingo's brain going. What? He looked up and looked at the spot he was standing at 5 minutes ago. There was no one there. It was only Ingo on the platform.

"You're staring right at him. I am not pulling your leg, sir. The guys with me can see him too."

Ingo shook his head. "There is no one here." He said lightly, trying to calm the woman down. "I can't see anyone here. But, if it satisfies you, I will have another look in the tunnels. Okay?"

"I don't see what the point is. He's not in the tunnels, he waiting on the platform."

"Shut up about that, okay. I'll ring back in a mo."

He put the phone back on the hook and began his walked back to the other side of the platform to look in the tunnel for the intruder. He didn't look into the tunnel on the north side because he had only looked in there a few minutes ago. Also, he was facing that way towards the tunnel entrance while on the phone to the line controller so if anyone had come out of the tunnel while he was on the phone, he would see them.

And Ingo was 100 perfect certain, no one was on the platform or had walked out of that sodding tunnel.

Ingo once again walked down the ramp of the south side platform and walked into the tunnel. He walked further into the tunnel than before, into the dark. His eyes adjusted to the dark, just barely seeing things inside. Nothing came out of the tunnel doors, nothing was emerging from the depths of the black tunnel in front of him and nothing was crawling out of the suicide pits between the main rails.

Nothing was in there.

Ingo half turned and walked back towards the platform. He didn't bother to go back onto the platform via the ramp, instead, he continued to walk along the rails so he could go straight into the tunnel. In he went, doing the same thing he did in the south tunnel, and went further into the darkness. Again, no ghoulies came out from the side doors, up from suicide pits, and from within the dark of the tunnel. NO ONE WAS IN EITHER TUNNELS.

Ingo turned back and walked back into the station, walked up the ramp and onto the platform, towards the phone. He picked it up and turned to face the north tunnel.

He needn't wait long for the phone to pick up on the other line

Rin-

Ingo got a word in before she could.

"I doubled check the tunnels," he said slowly so the controller could actually get it into her head this time. "I even went in deep. There is no one in both tunnels or on the platform. No man, woman, worker or even a pokemon. There's just me."

Ingo waited for a reply which he knew was going to consist of just a constant reply of the line controller claiming there was a man, in white paper overalls standing at the edge of the northside platform. All he got on the other line was an eerie silence that was mixed in with the lightest of murmurs from the other staff working at Gear Station controller room. He knew they were talking about what they could see on the screen and what their boss could see which was right in front of him.

"What are you people playing up there?" Ingo had now lost all patience with the line controller. "What have you been doing up there, do you think this a sodding game? Do you hear me fucking laughing at this joke?"

"No!" shouted the woman on the other side of phone. Ingo was not surprised she had snapped at him in this fashion. "No no no no! This ain't no bullshit I'm spilling on you. We are playing no games up here. We're not making a joke out of you. We would never do that, sir. But I'm telling you the truth. I swear on my mums life that there is someone at the edge of the northbound platform. We watched you walk past 3 times now and you still can't fucking see him."

"Because," Ingo began as calmly as he possibly could, getting more tired all the more he argued with this stations line controller. "There is no one on the platform with me. I'm looking towards the north tunnel. I would have noticed anyone or thing if they walked out of the tunnel and onto the platform." Ingo turned his head to look at the platform, looking at the sight a few feet away from him that controller had claimed to see the man. No one was there, he was definitely sure of this. He turned to face the tunnel entrance. "There is no one standing at the edge of any side of the platform. And I swear on the life of poor Emmet, who's at home with a fever and a nasty cold, that no ones here."

Again, Ingo waited for the repeated comeback for a good 10 seconds before he answered down the phone to the line controller.

"Who would you trust more to get an accurate result on this so called 'mystery', or whatever you twits up there are calling it? Do you just rely on the feed of a cctv camera that, at any time, may crash and malfunction? Causing to get mixed results?." Again, Ingo waited for her answer. It didn't come. "Or, trust the person who is actually on the platform, carrying out the investigation and seeing what is really going on at the scene of the incident?"

Another few seconds of silence, the girl pondering the questions.

"Most importantly," Ingo pointed. "Would you trust your boss, the person investigating the scene?"

That was the winning card right there Ingo had played. Really, If you didn't trust your boss, you trusted no one. And really, he was right about the trust of using a machine and a camera. They aren't very reliable and malfunctions on the equipment alway played on miss judgement on what was really going on.

Ingo felt a bit smug, a left hand sided smile formed on his face as he now lent on the wall next to the phone box, still facing the entrance of the northbound tunnel. Ah, a little victory was alway good. Especially against this line controller. He knew her reputation around the system, she was stubborn, headstrong and took no shit and didn't take no as a form of answer. It was the same for the word 'cant'. This girl, this woman, was a force of nature, of the underground system.

And Ingo finally got the last say in one of their conversations, which normally ended in the line controler getting her own way even though he was the boss. She'd make a great Subway Boss.

"It could be a blip on the monitor, a malfunction of the equipment," the line controler said quietly down the line, admitting her defeat but also kind of not by the way she had said ' it COULD be a blip'. No, Ingo was having none of that.

"It IS a blip on the monitor, missus. Not COULD BE. There IS a blip in the monitor."

Ingo knew he was getting a bit too cocky now and he knew it pissed off the line controller, deep down inside.

"Yes," she managed to strain out through, Ingo knew, gritted teeth. "It's a blip on our monitors….. Right…. Sorry for wasting your time, Sir."

"Its fine, you were just doing your job. But thank you for informing me of the incident. Much appreciated."

Ingo heard the girl sigh and could tell that a small smile was forming on her lips when he heard her boss express his gratitude for doing her job, even though she probably did fuck up big time this time around.

"You're welcome. Good night sir."

"Good night."

Finally, Ingo put the phone back on the hook and closed the phone box and locked it for good this time, not to be used again until the first train in the morning which will not be for another hour and 18 minutes. Ingo looked up and looked at the entrance of the northbound tunnel. He looked hard, fingers tapping onto the metal of the phone box, making a racket that echoed down the platform against the silence.

Why was he still looking there? Seriously, what was he hoping to gain from looking at the a tunnel which he knew no one was currently in? He was looking at the tunnel entrance the whole time he was on the phone and he saw no one coming out of that hole. So why did he have a strange feeling while looking at that sodding hole in the wall….in the ground…. whatever.

"Fuck it," he whispered to himself and pulled himself up to stand up probably. He was still being seen on cctv camera be the controller at Gear Station and he didn't want to giver her the tender, juicy, sweet satisfaction that he was, for some godforsaken reason, having second thoughts. That would be all he needed the next time he went into the main control room to see the women's smug 'I knew it' look on her fucking face.

Ingo yawned and lifted his arms over his head, interlocking his fingers and arched his back for a good, kind of long stretch to get the stiffness out of his tired bones. Only and hour and fifteen minutes to go then he was out of here and heading on home to the comfort of his warm bed and soft, squishy pillow.

Ingo let a small, tired smile grace his face as he thought about going home to his shared flat and to his bed. He loved his bed. Oh how he did. But if he ever was too tired to make it to the bedroom, the living room sofa was just as nice and it didn't give him a bad back when he would wake in the morning. Yes, as much as he loved his bed, he would some times cheat on it and have an affair with the sofa, and he wouldn't feel guilty at about it.

The Boss in black slowly turned towards the platform and began to slowly, like a snail for some reason he didn't even know why, walk back to the other side, towards the staircase which lead to the non moving, long escalators which, fuck did he remember, were turned off and he'd have to walk up them to get to the ticket hall and the staff office.

Ingo let out a loud groan, which sounded louder than what came out of his mouth when let loose in the empty platform. Fucking escalators. He didn't really want to walk 67 steps of the escalator, not in his tired state, but he also didn't want to start the mechanical stairs working because even a simple task like that was still such a chore for the tired likes of him. Maybe they should put in a lift. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea indeed. No more walking up 67 steps to get to the top, no chore of turning on the escalators and turning it off again when at the top. A lift in this station would be a good thing, it would also help with the elderly travelers and the disabled passengers with wheelchairs, crutches, zimmer frames, guide pokemon, those horrid, bulky mobility scooters the elderly and the more obese people who think they are driving a car and think they can get away with everything (except the elderly in those scooters, they have a good reason) becau-

Something caught Ingo's left eye while he was thinking the pros and now cons of having a lift fitted in. Something that was sitting on one of the benches that the customers used while waiting for their train. Ingo turned to the bench and looked at what had caught his eye.

Paper, it was a newspaper that had got his attention, neatly folded on the end bench on the right. It looked as though he hadn't been even read, there were no rips or creases from being read, which it normally would. Somebody had obviously brought it to read while waiting for the train but may have never gotten the chance to read it as maybe their train had just come in before parking their arse down on the seat. The sod couldn't be bothered to take the paper with them so left it for the cleaning crew to dispose of.

Which the cleaning crew failed to do, as the paper is still there on the bench. While the last few trains are ready to come in and out of the station. The cleaning crew do a last clean up of the station, disposing of rubbish like crisp packets, fizzy drink cans, sandwich packets and newspaper, which is what more commonly found rubbish in any station than any other rubbish.

Ingo thought about putting it in the bin on the way back to the staff room upstairs. But, today he never got to read the paper to find out what the city and the rest of the region had been up to yesterday, the past week or month. He could always take the paper with him and have a read of it up in the staff room with a cup herbal tea this time instead of coffee, instead of carrying on reading the novel on hold.

Yeah, that was the plan.

Ingo went over to the bench to pick up the newspaper and slink back up to the main office to have a read before the newspaper company that did the free papers for the underground system gave out their new addition of todays paper.

As Ingo go to the bench, he noticed something odd about the front page of the paper. There was nothing on it. Completely blank. No pictures, no header, no text, no nothing. Strange. But still, he went to picked up the paper, thinking the front page was just a one off mistake or it was supposed to be like that of a special news feed.

But he stopped dead in his tracks, hands near enough to pick up the paper. He had notice some things else wrong with the paper. Call it silly to notice this but the newspaper was white. Normally, papers were that nasty dirty white, this one was absolute pure white clean like a the white, crisp shirt Ingo was wearing now.

The next observation sent a chill down Ingo's spine and his heart started to beat quick faster. He'd notices that this paper, wasn't a paper at all. No it wasn't. Papers don't have neat cut curved, sleeved edges unless someone got bored and decided to give this newspaper a new face lift.

On the bench, neatly folded, was a pair of white paper overalls.

Ingo straightened up fast and, like a meerkat, looked around for any danger or anyone and at the same time, questioned himself.

'No one is here,' he said to himself in his head while he turned and twisted to look at each end of the platform, getting more and more (do he dare say it?) spooked. 'I doubled checked everything. I even went into both tunnels and looked at everything. There was no one there in each tunnel or standing on the platform!'

But there they were, described by what the line controler saw on her blipped camera; a man wearing WHITE PAPER OVERALLS.

'My mind of fucking me over, playing tricks on me. I'm tired, that's all. Yeah, yeah, just tired. Just go back to the office, have a nap, set the alarm on your mobile and you'll be somewhat fresh and awake.'

Ingo nodded to himself and continued to walk back towards the stairs, with a much faster pace then before. But as he did, he couldn't help but look back over his shoulder incase he saw anything else.

He truded back up the stairs, panting as he did and still looking over his shoulder as he tried not to think to himself that maybe someone or something is following him up the stairs.

Reaching the top, he rushed into the staff room and shut the door behind him with a slam and locked it and leaned against it, head falling back on the glass. Sweat from walking up the stairs and from fear, had built up on his forehead and under his armpits. He took in deep breaths and slowly let them out to try and control himself while he listened to the current love song playing around the room from the radio, hoping that would settle his nerves. His hand went through the hair flopping over his forehead, feeling it's nasty, sweaty, greasy built up texture and using it to try and gel it back into it's normally gelled back professional look his staff is normally to see on a days work.

Finally, he's breathing went back to normal but his heart remained beating from, now, not the chore of going up the stairs, but, he'd admit it, the fear roaming in his head.

Yes, for the first time in his life of working as Nimbassa Cities Subway Boss, he was frightened. Frightened of what might be down stairs, lurking in the dark and on the platform.

Ingo pulled his coat around his warm body and pulled the collars up higher around his neck, covering his mouth. Altogether, all nice and warm and cosy, he slid down the door and onto the floor of the office, his legs bent, out in front of him, making his trousers ride up a little so he could see the black of his socks and little bit of white, pearly skin that were lightly dotted with hair.

He listened to the radio and the old song died and a new song began it's slow, romantic tune for its late night listeners either driving home from a long days and nights work or just working from home, at their desk, trying to get a presentation done for tomorrow.

So, there, on the floor, wrapped up in his coat, knees bent, while listening to the radio, Ingo stayed there for the rest of his shift, never moving till someone came in for their first shift of the morning.

He didn't fall asleep like he had promised he would, a quick power nap with the alarm on. Ingo sat there, not really paying attention any more to the radio anymore and had retreated into the back of his mind, only thinking of things that really mattered to him.

The whole subway system could go and fuck itself, that was the last thing on his mind that mattered. What he was thinking of was home, warm, soft bed and pillow, or the sofa with the telly right in front of it. And, most importantly, Emmet. Dear, sweet, funny, lovable dope of a brother, Emmet. Ingo, sadly to say, had forgotten about his brothers cold and fever and could only think about seeing his brother and tackling him with a hug that would send Emmet and his hat flying across somewhere. And Emmet would be confused, happy, but confused cause Ingo wouldn't do that really, he kept to himself. Hugs were a no no on the job, even when it's just them together. Normally, it was a light pat on the shoulder, a 'well done Emmet', and Emmet would beam a smile at his hero, his bigger brother Ingo and Ingo would give a smile back and leave Emmet at the goo-

Knock Knock Knock "Sir?"

Ingo screamed at the knocking on the glass and the voice above him pulled him from his thoughts, completely off guard. He fell on his front and scrambled a bit to pull himself up to grabbed at his shirt through that, feeling his beating heart, gasping out breaths and breathing in deeply to control himself.

"Sir! Sir, are you alright?! Let me in!"

Ingo swallowed and looked up through red, tired, feared eyes to see a man, wearing a green hat and a black hoodie that was over the top of a green jacket with a white shirt and black tie. His hands, which were covered in white gloves were pressed on the glass.

A member of the stations staff. To be more exact, this stations Station Master, Cody.

Cody looked at him from the glass, a expression of panic in his green eyes and on his youthful features. He still looked sickly from when Ingo saw him last time but some how, he had managed to gain the strength to come into work, like he had promised.

Cody swallowed slowly, "Open the door, Sir. Your keys are in the lock. I can't get in."

Keys? Oh yes, the keys. Ingo remembered now, he had locked the door after rushing back in an hour and 5 minutes ago after his panic and forgot to take them out before sliding down the the door.

He got up on his hands and knees and straighten his aching back due to the horrid position he sat in for the past hour till 4 in the morning. His hair, from its greasy lock when he flattened it back down earlier, came out in a few wispy bits. Grey patches can be seen under his eyes from a lack of a good nights sleep. His clothes, already creased, were more creased then they were before. A patch on the collar of his black coat was wet from where he had chewed and sucked on it to kind of keep his mind off things. His hands were cold from not bothering to put his gloves on and they were a horrid, pale colour, that was not normal on Ingo's normally slightly pale skin.

His skin made him look deathly. It concerned Cody and Cody thought that maybe he had come down with the same bug that had made him and Emmet house bound in bed.

Ingo walked 3 steps to the door and leaned on the wall next to it, having very little strength to stand upright, and unlocked the door to the staff office so Cody could come in.

The young Station Master rushed in and dumped his bag on the table before turning to his wrecked boss who was struggling to keep his blueish silver eyes open and keep them focused on him.

"Oh my God, Sir," Cody rasped out with his stinging throaty voice, still suffering with a nasty cold, hands over his mouth when he coughed but also at the sheer shock at looking at the boss in black. "What happened overnight? Did you come down with something, you're as pale as a sheet."

'As a pair of paper overalls, I'd say' Ingo thought to himself, but he wasn't going to say that to Cody because then the younger of the two would ask more questions and he didn't want that. He just wanted to go home, to bed, sleep this all off. So for now…..

"Yes," Ingo said tiredly, yawning behind his right hand, the other on the table he had moved to so it help him not kill over from exhaustion. "Yes, I think I have come down something during the night. It must be that cold everyone's been getting."

"Why were you on the floor?"

Riiiiiight…

"I was having a nap." Sure you was, Ingo, something in the back of his head told him.

"But on the floor?"

Fuck sake, Cody. "The chairs were uncomfortable and….. I kinda felt the exhaustion from doing an allnighter. I hadn't done one of those in years."

"So you fell unconscious? Due to the fever?"

Ingo pressed his lips firmly together, slightly awake more now because of this man's constant questions. "Yes. Because of my fever." What fucking fever? For Godsake Ingo, lighten up. Tell the kid the tru-

NO! No fucking way was he going to tell this Station Master what was really the reason for his sorry sight. No way in hell was he going to tell Cody that he got spooked over a ghost story. Nononononono!

"Ah, well, okay then." Cody seemed to have relaxed after hearing his boss's big, fat lie. Ingo relaxed a little inside too, knowing he had fooled Cody, even though he kind of felt a tiny bit guilty at the lie. Cody was a good man, a good member of staff who could be trusted with all your heart. But Ingo just couldn't tell him all that what had happened with him during the night.

Ingo looked at his watch; it was 12 minutes past 4 in the morning. His night shift had finally ended. Thank God for that. But he was still stuck at this station though. The first train at this station doesn't come in till 10 past 5, nearly another hour till he could properly go home. Unless he got a cab.

No, he will get a cab, even though they charged a ridiculous amount of money. Ingo just wanted to go home.

"I'm heading off then," he had announced, walking over to collect his finished paper work, to put the book he'd left out into its bookshelf and taking over his coffee mug to the place with the other mugs before getting his hat under his arm.

He walked past Cody and got the keys out of the lock and handed them to him.

"Your collages keys. Make sure he gets them back."

"Will do, Sir. Have a good night's sleep sir and we'll see you tomorrow, then."

Ingo snorted, "Hardly doubt it. I'll will be hibernating like a Beartic for the next week. Maybe 2."

Cody laughed which turned into a coughing fit.

"Right -cough-Goodnight-coughcoughcough-Sir."

Ingo waved him off and walked out of the office, shutting it behind him, leaving Cody to do his job of getting the station and up and running for the first batch of commuters of the day in 55 minutes.

The air from the ticket hall hit him hard in the face, partially waking him up. Cold, it was freezing in the ticket hall, no thanks to the open gates up at the entrance. Ingo walked towards the set of stairs and at the top, saw the entrance and the morning sky with all its red, oranges and a bit of blue. It was still mostly dark though, the street lamps were still on. Today was going to a be a horrible rainy day, one which Ingo couldn't wait to sleep through. Once he got a cab home to Anvile that is.

Emmet was up and wearing his black t-shirt and Joltik patterned pj pants when Ingo unlocked the front door to their flat at 49 minutes to 5 in the morning. Ingo was shocked to see his brother up and about so early while hours ago he had suffered from a near fainting spell due to his fever.

His brother was sitting at the breakfast table in the open kitchen space that's in their living room space too. He was currently working through a bowel of some kind of soggy cereal, chewing slowly so it didn't irritate his sore throat and mouth when he swallowed. Next to his left was glass of what looked to be apple juice, something to sooth his red and swollen throat instead of hot, fragrant coffee like usually he would have first thing in the morning.

In front of him, was his laptop, which he was looking at before he heard to front door open. He watched with with a confused look on his face.

Emmet looked up when he heard the front door opened and smiled when he saw his brother walk through the door, looking a mess with his hat in one hand and the paperwork he'd signed while doing the night shift in the other hand. Ingo closed the door and locked it. He turned to face the sofa to throw off his coat, his hat and paper work on the sofa, but from the corner of his eye, saw his brother smiling at him, with a mouth full of cereal and milk.

"Emmet. What are you doing up so early? Shouldn't you be in bed resting?"

"I guess once you get into a routine you don't quite fall out of it," Emmet rasped out after swallowing his mouth full of mush. "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. So here I am with my juice and breakfast."

"You are not seriously thinking of going in for work today, are you?"

"I did think about it. But I kind of had another dizzy spell 15 minutes ago, so I thought better against it. I will go back to work tomorrow if I feel up to it."

Ingo nodded his approval for his brothers logic and just dumped his paperwork, hat and coat on the empty sofa and groaned, rubbing his hands over his face, feeling his cold face against warm hands.

"Don't you look gorgeous."

Ingo frowned and turned to his brother grinning from ear to ear with his glass of juice posed at his lips, waiting to go in a quench his thirst.

"You could talk, I must say," Ingo retaliated, a smirk forming on his tired face, watching Emmet's grin fade and replaced with a pout.

"I have a good reason," Emmet said, head held high as he turned towards the laptop to go back to what he was doing before. "I'm sick. Sickie McBarf Puke."

"Have you actually been sick while I've been gone?"

"Just the once." Emmet didn't turn from his seat to face Ingo but held up his index finger just to show him how many time he had being sick while on his own. "Just barely made it to the bathroom and did it in the bath instead. "Emmet smirked when he heard his brother make a gagging noise. "Don't you worry, brother dear. I washed it out and air freshen the room."

"Good."

Ingo kicked off his shoes and pulled off his tie. The tie joining the rest of his stuff on the sofa and the shoes were picked up and placed near the door. All the time, Emmet was still looking at whatever was on the laptop screen that kept him engrossed enough to ignore his brothers current actions. Ingo walked over to his brothers side and saw what looked to be a film.

"What are you watching?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know really." Emmet looked up at Ingo. "I just got this from a line controler from Gear Station Control room. Its 25 minutes long but she says to have a look. Its a feed from the northbound platform at Yeomans Green station. The place you were doing my all nighter."

Ingo was standing still now, stiff as a board. Oh god, the line controler sent this?

"Um, okay. Why though?"

"Something about a blip in the screen she said something about and wanted my second opinion ab-Oh my gosh! Who's that?"

Ingo was now looking over his brother's shoulder at the cctv feed on the laptop the second he had finished shouting 'gosh'. The film was in black and white, but could be also changed to colour if desired to but the image look perfectly fine in dull black and white. The feed was from a camera that was screwed up above the exit of the northbound platform, which meant it got a good look down the tracks and a clear view of the platform also.

What Ingo was seeing made his heart leap into his throat, pumping like mad, making him almost hyperventilate. He put both hands on the back of Emmets chair to steady himself and to prevent himself from having a heart attack or a fainting spell because that's what he felt like at moment, he felt like a fainting a little.

On the left hand side of the camera a little up from the bottom corner, standing there at the edge of the platform, like it had always seemed to be there, not as a blip in the system, was a man.

A man in white overalls.

*Fluffer - London Underground deep cleaners who clear the track of hair, dust and other rubbish that had blown into the tunnel during the day are called fluffers, as so because they clear mostly the fluff of dust and hair off of tracks before it becomes a fire hazard.

So... I have another ghost story in the making, making them chapters