I leaned back in my chair, and sighed. Only another half hour until my shift ended. I looked at the papers in front of me, and double checked the sheet. It didn't look like there were any more scheduled trains for today, but I was also responsible for selling tickets for tomorrow's trains, as well as answering any questions people might have.

Working at Shining Time Station was a nice job. It was a very bright and friendly place. Trains continuously going through, stopping for passengers, and then continuing on their way. In this part of the country, train travel was quite popular. My job was to run the reception and ticket desk inside the station, along with a few other people. I was the closer tonight, however, so it was just me now.

I filled out the remaining paperwork in the silence of the station, and then filed it away for tomorrow. As I looked out the window, I listened. It didn't sound like any trains were nearby.

Shame, a good train always made me smile.

I turned my attention to the artwork on the far wall. A mass amount of it had been painted on the wall, including a small station house, with a tunnel next to it. Locomotives and rails were painted along the length of the wall, as well as scenery. A small ledge ran along the wall as well, an occasional decoration sitting on it.

Any kids that would enter the station always loved to look at the art. I didn't know who had designed it, as it was here when I was hired, but I always enjoyed looking at it. Standing, I walked over to the wall, running my eyes over the details. The small switch house looked so real, and the tunnel next to it looked as if it could lead anywhere. A shiver ran through me, and I ran my hand over the ledge in front of the house.

One time I had done so, and my hand had come up covered in a strange gold powder. Almost like golden glitter, but different somehow. I wasn't sure what it was, or how it got there. Probably a kid who had set something of theirs up there for a moment.

I hummed to myself as I swept the floor one last time, and then polished the windows. I took great pride in the station. It always looked its best, and it would always keep a cheery mood about it.

Finally, it was time for me to lock up. I shut off all of the lights, and walked outside, locking the door behind me. I looked up and down the empty rails that lead off into the distance, before letting out a sigh, and shut off the outside lights.

As I walked to my vehicle, I could practically smell the fog in the air. It was a damp evening, as usual. Shining Time Station was on the edge of the countryside, thus, a lot of free air allowed it to dampen quickly in the area. I didn't mind, for I had gotten used to it some time ago. It was the reason I had equipped roof lights on my pickup truck. That, and the lift kit with the off-road tires. My cottage was far into the country, with only a dirt road allowing access to it. More often than not, it was muddy, and took some traction to be able to make it all the way.

I climbed into the drivers seat, and fired up the engine. A low growl emanated from the exhaust as the RPM's leveled out, and I switched on the radio, letting the gentle music fill the silence as I pulled out of the station parking lot.

The main road wandered around the edge of town for a while, before gradually giving way to large fields and trees. The English countryside was beautiful, even at night. When I first moved here, I specifically wanted a small place to myself in the country, so I could have my peace and quiet. I didn't mind noise, but at the end of the day, a little quiet was always a nice way to relax.

As I stopped at a railroad crossing for a passing night train, my eyes closed as the sounds of the coach's running along the rails filled my ears. Whenever I heard the sounds of a train, I always knew I was home.

Once the train passed, I slowly drove over the tracks, and turned towards the small mountains in the distance.

After a while, the road turned to dirt, and I crawled my way between the fields and trees, the headlights piercing the dark foggy air. There was only a few houses per mile out here, so it was a lot of open land for the fog to hang in.

After another ten minutes of bumping along the dirt road, I slowly turned into my long driveway, and made my way up the hill to my home. I parked the truck out in front, and went to get my mail from the mailbox. I pulled out a wad of envelopes, and filed through them with speed and accuracy.

Bills, advertisements, and other miscellaneous junk. Most of the ads were for electrical appliances, which I ignored. My cottage was old, and had few electrical components. It was made of stone, heated by the fireplace in the living room, and was mostly powered by nature. The biggest electrical appliance I owned was probably my refrigerator.

As I filed through the letters, one in particular caught my attention. It had no return address, and had my name and address written in fancy curly font on the front. I raised an eyebrow.

Nobody I knew would write to me, and certainly not in a font like that. I flipped it over, but didn't find anything on the other side. I finally shrugged, and walked inside with the wad of paper envelopes. I tossed them onto the table, and went to light the fireplace, throwing in some fresh logs and a lit match.

After a while, they caught, and heat began to fill the small room. I nodded in satisfaction, and headed into the kitchen to make myself dinner. I never kept much food on hand at any one time, because I don't want to waste any. I opened my refrigerator, and looked around, before finally settling on a ham sub sandwich I had gotten yesterday, and put it onto a plate, along with a glass of milk. I opened the kitchen window, and let the gentle breeze and sounds of the crickets waft in as I ate.

My eyes wandered back over to the letter with no return address.

Sighing, I finally gave in, and picked it up. After slicing it open with a kitchen knife, a single piece of paper fell out. It was tri-folded, and had no special markings or indications. I unfolded it, to reveal a small amount of writing in the middle of it.

Addressed directly to me. It read as follows:

Dear Mr. Anon,

Have you heard about the abandoned railroad tracks high in Muffle Mountain?

I frowned. That's all that was written. I flipped the paper over, and verified that there was nothing on the other side. Who would waste a stamp just for a single sentence? One that made no sense whatsoever?

A railroad on Muffle Mountain? There was no such thing! The base of Muffle Mountain was a fifteen minute drive from my cottage, and getting to the top by vehicle took longer, as it was a steep climb. I had done it before, as a way of testing my trucks capability when I first modified it, and I hadn't come across any tracks even once!

"Load of bollocks." I muttered, tossing the letter back onto the table, then I went back to my sandwich, and finished it without interruption.

The interruption came afterwords.

Just as I had put my plate and cup into the sink for washing, there was a knocking at the front door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

I jumped slightly at the noise, not expecting to hear anything of the sort. I couldn't even recall the last time I had had a visitor. Living in the country tended to do that. I walked towards the door, and opened it, expecting to find a lost tourist, or the post-man.

But instead, I got no one.

I stepped out, and looked around.

"Hello?" I asked. There was no reply. I sighed, and started to step back inside. "Kids." I grumbled, starting to close the door. But something glinting in the moonlight on the doorstep caused me to stop, and open the door again.

I bent down, and inspected what was sitting on the step. I picked the items up, and looked at them closer.

Another folded piece of paper, and a small kazoo... or something of the sort. As I held the small instrument up, I noticed something come out of it into my hand. I walked back inside, closing the door behind me, and held my hand under the kitchen light.

The substance looked quite similar to the gold powder I had found at Shining Time that one day. A glittery gold substance, small and grainy. I set the kazoo down carefully, as to not spill anymore, and then rubbed my fingers over the powder.

"What is this stuff?" I asked to myself as I inspected it. As far as I could tell, there was nothing special about it, so I brushed it off of my hands, and into the trash. Then I looked at the new paper I had found.

It was smaller, and shaped like a square, folded several times. I gently unfolded it, to reveal a large assortment of lines, landmarks, and icons.

A map, it appeared to be.

As I looked closer, I realized it was a map of the area I lived in, going from the edge of town, all the way to a little past Muffle Mountain. But what was really odd was that there were two locations specifically marked on it. One was a point on Muffle Mountain, and the other...

Was my cottage. Specifically located, and accurately scaled away from the mountain.

"What is this?" I muttered. A dark line was drawn from my house icon, and it wove its way across the map, all the way to the marked point at the mountain. A route, more or less.

But what did it lead to? Could it have something to do with the letter I had received in the mail? It was possible, but then why would they not have just included the map with the letter? It didn't make any sense.

It was possible that maybe one of my co-workers was playing a practical joke on me. Some of them would do something like this for a laugh.

I set the map on the table next to the letter and kazoo, and sighed. I'd have to ask them tomorrow when I arrived for my shift if they knew anything about this.

If they did... then it was all just a simple joke. If they didn't...

Then I had a real mystery on my hands.

. . .

Once I finished washing the dishes, I fiddled with the fireplace a little bit, as to keep the fire roaring for as long as it could into the night, and then headed to my bedroom.

I pulled back the sheets, and changed into my pajamas, before sitting on the bed, and looking out of the window.

I had a decent view, fields and trees splayed out beyond the window frame. During the day, it made a nice picture, and at night, it was relaxing. Hearing the breeze make its way through the trees, and the occasional train whistle piercing the air, it almost guaranteed a good nights sleep.

I picked up the book I was currently reading off of the night stand, and cracked it open. Reading a few chapters of a good book was another good way to relax before bed.

I read for a good while, then I laid down, and switched off the light. As I stared up at the ceiling, I found it difficult to force the mystery of the letter and map from my mind.

Some part of me believed it wasn't a joke, because who would go through all the trouble of drawing such an accurate and detailed map for the sake of a joke? It seemed highly unusual.

And the gold powder. I was sure it was the same as the stuff I had found in the station. It couldn't purely be a coincidence. It must mean something, to someone. And why in the world was it stuffed inside a kazoo?

That was the most bizarre part. What was the significance of that little toy instrument? It was all baffling!

I turned onto my side, and listened to the sounds coming through my window.

A serenade of crickets, a breeze gently making its way through he land, and a screaming steam whistle.

I frowned.

That whistle didn't sound like any of the trains that usually ran this area. It sounded really strange, and out of tune. Make no mistake, it sounded beautiful, and sent a chill down my spine as it changed pitch, high, then lower, then higher. But it didn't sound normal. It sounded far away.

Like, far enough away that I shouldn't have been able to hear it, but I was, loud and clear. Almost as if it had an echo to it, or it was being amplified. It was difficult to explain. I tried to focus on it, but as soon as I did, it ceased, silence filling the air again.

Another difficult thing to explain was that for some reason, it felt that the whistle was being directed at me specifically. As if it was a signal, or a sign. But that was ridiculous. Odds are it was just an off tune whistle on one of the night trains. What else could it be? There were no out of town locomotive's coming through, I had seen the rail schedule for the next day.

I thought about the whistle for a while, and eventually began to succumb to the oncoming slumber. As I drifted off, I finally placed what sounded so off about the whistle.

It almost sounded... magical.

. . .

"Anooooooon..."

I cracked open one eye, and looked around. I could have sworn I had heard someone calling my name. I didn't see anything that looked out of place, so I closed it again.

"Anoooooooon..."

This time, I opened both eyes. I knew I heard that. Sitting up in bed, I looked around.

"Hello?" I asked the seemingly empty room.

"We need you Anon..." the voice whispered. It felt as if it was directly in my ear. I quickly looked to the left, expecting to find someone standing there, but there was no one. I quickly looked to the right, only to see nothing still.

"Is someone in here?" I called, getting out of bed. I flicked on the dim bedroom light, to find that there was no one in the room. Perhaps they were standing outside my bedroom window? I went and checked, but again, there was no one around. I finally sighed, and leaned against the window frame, looking out at the scenery. It was still dark out, probably around two in the morning.

"I must be having a dream or something." I muttered.

Suddenly, the same high pitched steam whistle I had heard earlier interrupted my thoughts, piercing the silent night air once again. Rising higher, and then lower. It still didn't sound familiar, or even natural.

Something about that whistle gave me chills...

I looked around the room, and realized it looked hazy almost. The whistle outside rose and fell again, and I sniffed. The room did indeed smell damp, as if a large amount of water had been steamed in your room or something. Odds are it was just the night fog seeping in through the window. I closed it, and got back into bed, the whistle outside fading away into nothing through the now closed window. This was surely just a strange dream I was having, I was sure of that.

. . .

The next morning, I woke up, and could still remember the strange dream. I stood, and expected to hear the sounds of outside coming through the open window, but I didn't hear anything. I looked over, and found that the window was closed.

I knew I had opened it when I had gone to bed, so that could only mean... what I was remembering actually happened. The voice, the steam like feel in my room... and the whistle.

Now I was starting to get a little nervous. Ever since that stuff had arrived yesterday, a whole bunch of strange things had been happening. I needed to get to the bottom of this, and I was going to start by asking around at work today, and see if anyone knew anything about what was going on. But my shift didn't start for a few hours yet, so I had some time to kill.

I ate breakfast, and then headed outside, half expecting to find another set of strange things on my doorstep, but nothing looked amiss. I walked out to my truck, deciding I would head into town to purchase some groceries, and then head to work.

As I started the engine, the radio began to play again, except this time, it was people talking. It sounded like they were talking about something to do with Muffle Mountain, so I decided to listen in before departing.

"And in other news, several archaeologists arrived in town today to get digging rights on Muffle Mountain. There have been rumors of something in the mountain for quite some time, and it looks like they're here to find out if it's true or not. It will take them some time to gain the permits, as the city isn't sure if they want them digging yet or not." the newscaster said.

I sat in my truck for a few minutes, playing what I had just heard through my mind. Before yesterday, I had never heard any rumors of anything special being in Muffle Mountain, and now I was starting to get a bad feeling in my gut, and I wasn't sure why. It felt as if some unseen force was prodding me to follow the map I had found yesterday, and get to the marked location on the mountain. After hesitating for a few minutes, I finally gave in, and pulled out my phone. I was going to have to miss work today.

As I dialed the number, I felt a little nervous. I rarely ever missed work, so most likely they wouldn't have much of an issue with me missing, but I had never purposely skipped a day before. I enjoyed my job, and didn't want to take it for granted.

Someone on the other end picked up, and I took a deep breath.

"Hey, it's Anon. I'm sick, and I don't think I'll be making it in today. I just came down with it this morning, and was waiting as long as I could before calling so I could determine if I could come in or not. I don't think I'll be able to at this point." I said. After conversing a little bit more, my boss had finally given me the day off. As I expected, she didn't have much of a problem with it, but still. I had never lied for the sake of missing a day before, and it didn't sit particularly well with me.

But the feeling inside wasn't a good one, and it was only getting worse. I stepped out of my truck, and went back into my Cottage. I was going to go to the marked location of the mountain, but first, I was going to need to prepare some things.

. . .

"Map, check. Food, check. Gas, check." I ran through the list of provisions. Climbing the Mountain would take a while, and I wanted to be prepared, just in case I found something that would cause me to be there a while. My truck was equipped with spare gas tanks, and tools, so I just needed to take food, and the things given to me yesterday.

Really, I only felt that I needed the map, but for good measure, I decided to take the kazoo, and the letter as well. Why not? They all seemed to be pointing to the same thing.

I carried the provisions out and set them in the bed of the truck. A sleeping bag, a large container of food and drink, and the parchments.

I locked my house behind me, and started the trucks engine. While its idling thinned out, I opened up the map, and examined it. According to the route, I simply followed dirt roads to the bottom of the mountain, and then climbed up the mountain to the marked spot. I'd have to choose my own route up the mountain. My truck wasn't invincible, after all.

Slowly crawling down the driveway, I turned left onto the dirt road. I carefully followed the route on the map, turning down the roads it told me to. I didn't see what difference it made how I got to the bottom of the mountain, but if it didn't make a difference, then why would they have specifically put a lined route down? I thought it best to follow the instructions.

After twenty minutes of slow driving, and repeatedly checking the map, I found myself at a dead end of the dirt road closest to the base of the mountain. I would be off-roading from here.

I engaged the trucks four wheel drive, and began to crawl through the thick grass. After a while, I slowly started to ascend upwards, and the climb was on.

I put the truck into low gear, and feathered the gas, slowly clawing my way up the side of the mountain. Some parts were more challenging than others, but the truck was up for it. I worked the wheel back and forth as I was bounced about in my seat, the loose things in the cab flying all over the place. The suspension squeaked and rattled as it flexed under the weight of the truck.

Once I found a fairly flat spot, I stopped, and picked up the things in the cab, and put them in the glove box so they couldn't move anymore. According to the map, I was getting close to the location. I looked behind me, and saw that the valley was quite far away. I needed to be extremely careful now. One mistake this high up the mountain could have me rolling down to the bottom.

That certainly wouldn't end well.

I slowly edged the truck forwards, and began to finish the climb.

. . .

Another fifteen minutes, and I put the truck into park. According to the map, I was at the location, but I didn't see anything that looked special. After making sure my truck wasn't going anywhere, I got out, and walked around. It was nothing but grass, dirt, and the occasional tree at the level.

Looking back down, I could see how far I had really come. It must have been at least a mile from the base of the mountain now. I sat, and thought for a few minutes. It never said what I was supposed to find up here, or where specifically it was. Just that there was something, or some reason why it was marked.

The thought of the letter entered my mind. It had said something about a railroad on or in the mountain. If that's what I was looking for, I was wasting my time. There was no way a train could get up this mountain without visible tracks and bridges. And there weren't any.

No tunnels, no bridges, no zig-zagged track, nothing.

I decided to read the letter again. Perhaps I had missed something?

I walked back to the truck, and picked up the folded paper. Upon opening it, I was met with a surprise.

The words on it had changed.

I knew I wasn't crazy, but it did NOT say what it had before. Nothing about a railroad, and nothing about the mountain. Now, it merely read:

Buffers are the end of the line, but the beginning of a journey.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and then opened them, looking at the paper again. No change. It seemed I was on a wild goose chase with magical paper, or something like that. A scavenger hunt, almost.

But what did buffers have to do with anything? They were placed at the end of a rail line, to stop slow moving trains from derailing. It still seemed the letter was adamant about there being tracks somewhere around here.

I looked around again, and narrowed my eyes in the bright sunlight. I could make out something I hadn't noticed before, approximately two hundred feet away.

"What is that?" I asked aloud, starting to walk in that direction. As I neared, my eyes widened.

A set of railway buffers, and a set of rusting railroad trucks, sitting in a cluster of overgrown weeds, well hidden by them. I looked in the direction the tracks went, and scowled.

They ran about one hundred feet, then stopped at the nearly straight vertical side of the mountain.

"What..." I muttered, walking along the rails. I had never heard of any rails being up here. When were they built, and what for? Had there been plans at one point to make a tunnel in the mountain or something? The mountain wall here was far to flat to be natural. And the tracks seemed to go inside, through it, almost. It was most perplexing.

As I walked closer, I accidentally scuffed my foot along the ground, and sent a few rocks flying forwards. The one in particular I happened to be watching flew into the vertical wall... and vanished! In a small flash of light, no less.

My eyes widened again, and I felt my jaw open a little. Had I really just seen that? I stood motionless for a moment, staring where the rock should have hit the ground, and bounced away. I slowly reached down, and picked up another rock, not taking my eyes off of the spot. I tossed the stone towards it, and just as the previous one had, it passed right through the side of the mountain without hesitation, a brief flash of light accompanying its exit.

"What is going on around here?" I whispered to yourself. I slowly backed towards my truck, not taking my eyes off of the buffers, track, and mountain side, for fear that if I looked away, it would vanish. I climbed in my truck, started the engine, and slowly maneuvered it over to the tracks. Once it was next to the rails, I picked up the letter, and opened it.

It had changed AGAIN! It now said:

As unrestricted as the wind crossing an open field, you shall pass through.

I looked from the letter to the side of the mountain. Was I supposed to go through the... portal? Would my truck fit? And where would I end up? There was no way of telling where this lead, and whether I would get to go back or not.

If I drove through, there was a chance I might not be able to come back.

"What about it? Will I be able to come back?" I asked, staring at the letter, as if it would answer.

It did not.

"Guess it's up to me then." I muttered, looking at the steering wheel of my truck in thought. I still had the strange feeling in my gut, although it had considerably lessened the closer I got to the railroad. Maybe that was a sign? A sign that I was destined to cross through?

After a few more moments of thought, I made the decision. I looked out the trucks window, and took in my surroundings as a gentle breeze blew past. I took a mental picture, and then shifted the truck into drive.

With some reversing, and careful positioning, it was now sitting atop the rails, the large tires and lifted suspension allowing me to do so without damaging it. I faced the end of the rails that lead into the side of the mountain, and exhaled. I looked in the rear view mirror at the surroundings behind me, and revved the engine, the exhaust roaring aggressively.

Before I could convince myself otherwise, I released the brake, and the truck launched forwards, engine roaring. As I rapidly approached the side of the mountain at speed, I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact.

But it never came.