At noon during sunset, I first encountered Mr Head. I called out to him, saying "Halloa! Below there!" Instead of looking up, he looked towards the tunnel entrance where a red light was present. So, I repeated myself and shouted 'hallao! Bellow!' This time, he looked up. I asked if there was a way for me to descend, and he pointed me in the right direction. Initially, Mr Head appeared as a dark sallow man with a dark beard and thick eyebrows. After our encounter, he asked if I had been near the red light at the beginning of the tunnel because someone had apparently been shouting 'haloa! below there!' from that location. Whenever a train arrived, both a red light and bell on the wall would activate. Without fail, whenever this signal occurred, Mr Head performed his job
...perfectly.
However, on a few occasions, I noticed that the light and bell did not activate, yet he still went outside to perform his duties. As time flew by, I realized the lateness and was about to leave when the signalman requested that I return the following day. Considering him to be a gentleman, I agreed. As soon as I was able to depart, he quietly cautioned me, "When you find the road, refrain from calling out! And when you reach the top, refrain from calling out!" Furthermore, he added, "And when you come back tomorrow, do not call out!" Before bidding farewell, he posed a final question to me, asking why I had exclaimed "Halloa! Below there!" Startled, I replied with no particular reason. He then whispered, "Was it some supernatural force that made you say
it?" I responded with a firm "no."
After bidding good night, he illuminated my path with a light. On the following day, upon returning to the track where the box was located, he was already present at the bottom of the hill, holding the same light as before. Although I hesitated to shout down to him, as I approached closer, I inquired if we could converse. As I reached his side, distant clocks struck eleven. Subsequently, we entered into the box.
The speaker made it clear that he would not need to be reminded about his concerns. He confesses that he mistook the listener for someone else the previous evening, and that is what bothers him. The speaker emphasizes that it is not the mistake alone, but rather his belief that the listener was a different individual.
"Who is it?" I asked, curious about someone who might be similar to me. "I don't know," he responded. "I never saw the face. The left arm covers the face, and the right arm is vigorously waved. The figure said, 'For God's sake, clear the way!'"
He then proceeded to inform me that one night under moonlight, while sitting in this very spot, he heard a voice exclaim, "Hello! Bellow there! Be careful!" He hastily grabbed a lamp and turned it red as he rushed towards the figure shouting, "What's wrong? What has happened? Where?" He mentioned that this figure was positioned outside of the tunnel, so he advanced towards them.
The man was intrigued by the fact that the depicted figure did not remove his hand from his face. Consequently, he decided to move his own sleeve away from his face and,
to his astonishment, the figure had vanished. Acting swiftly, Mr. Head sprinted five hundred yards into the tunnel while holding his lamp above his head. He surveyed the surroundings but could only see the stains of the dripping arches on the walls, flowing down to the ground. Overwhelmed with a profound disgust, Mr. Head hastily escaped from the tunnel. In an effort to inform others, he sent telegrams in both directions declaring, "An alarm has been raised. Is there any reason for concern?"
The response confirmed that both ways were clear. I tried to persuade him that it was a trick of his vision while discussing the idea of mental deception with him. Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and announced, "Within six hours of seeing that figure, the unfortunate incident on this route happened, and within ten hours, the casualties were transported through the tunnel where the figure had been standing." Despite feeling uneasy, I made an effort to suppress it.
Mr Head explained that he had been recovering from the initial shock of encountering the spectre for approximately six or seven months. However, one morning he woke up and saw the spectre once again when he opened the box door and looked towards the red light source. You can discover an analysis of
The Day After Tomorrow
film here. Mr Head paused and gave me a strange stare. To divert his attention, I inquired about any sounds made by the spectre. James Head responded, "No, it was silent." Then I asked if it gestured with its arm, to which he replied, "No, it leaned against the light shaft while covering its face with both hands."
Like
this. "I asked, 'did you approach it?' He responded, 'I entered and sat down, partly to gather my composure, partly because it had made me weak.' When I returned to the door, daylight was above me, and the ghost had disappeared." He continued, "On that exact day, as a train emerged from the tunnel, I observed through a window on my side a jumble of hands and heads, with a waving object."
I managed to see the train just in time and signaled the driver to stop. He quickly stopped the train and activated the brakes, but it still drifted past about 150 feet. I chased after the train and heard horrifying screams and cries along the way. Inside one of the compartments, a young and beautiful lady had died instantly. Her body was brought here and placed on the floor between us.
The man then explained, "Now, sir, pay attention to this and understand how troubled my mind is. The ghost reappeared a week ago. Since then, it has been sporadically present, appearing and disappearing."
"Are you talking about the light?" I asked.
"Yes, the danger-light," James answered.
"What does it appear to do?" He then repeated all the warnings and cautions.
"Did it ring your bell yesterday evening when I was here and you went to the door?" I asked.
"Twice," I continued.
I was still attempting to convince him that the apparition was not real.
"And, when you looked out, did the spectre appear to be there?" I asked. "It was there," Mr. Head repeated firmly, "both times." Mr. Head asked me to go and find the ghost, so we both went to the door to look for it. I strained
my eyes greatly to catch a glimpse of this so-called spectre. I observed his facial expression closely to see if he had seen anything. However, we both ultimately agreed that the spectre was not there. We returned to our chairs to continue our conversation. When we sat down, Mr. Head uttered these troubling words: "By this time, you will fully understand, sir, that what troubles me so dreadfully is the question: what does the spectre mean?" Nervously, I replied, "I was not sure," though I was actually quite sure. He then asked, "What is it warning against? What is the danger? Where is the danger? There is danger hanging over somewhere on the line."
Some dreadful calamity will happen. It is undeniable that this is the third time, following previous occurrences. This haunting of me is incredibly merciless. What options do I have? "We were then wiping sweat off his red-hot and smelly forehead." "If I communicate a message regarding danger, either on one side or both, I cannot provide any justification for it." Response: "What danger? Where?" Message: "I don't know."
Be cautious, but be wary! The signal man expressed his dissatisfaction with the ghost's decision to approach him rather than someone of higher authority. When night descended, I suggested staying with him until morning, but he declined. The following day, my excitement grew upon spotting a man near the tunnel entrance waving his arm. However, my sense of terror swiftly dissipated as I discovered it was merely a group of men practicing their gestures. The danger-light remained unlit.
A small hut made of wooden supports and tarpaulin had been built against the shaft. It was completely
new to me and appeared to be no larger than a bed. Curiously, I inquired about it from a man nearby. He informed me that a signalman had been killed earlier that morning.
He inquired about the man's identity, and was informed that yes, he did belong to that box. The man further questioned if he was the person he was familiar with, receiving a reply stating that he would recognize him if they were acquainted. This was all the information the man could offer due to his limited memory. He mentioned encountering him solely during a dog-walk.
I witnessed a small figure on the track and a large engine emerging from the tunnel. Although I cannot fully remember the details, I distinctly recollect that the engine emerged from the tunnel while the signalman either remained there or faced the wrong direction. Suddenly, there was a piercing scream as the collision occurred. The body was propelled in multiple directions. Consequently, I rushed down to the track to assist the unfortunate man, but unfortunately, it was too late!
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